This is a modern-English version of A Righte Merrie Christmasse: The Story of Christ-Tide, originally written by Ashton, John.
It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling,
and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If
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Contents
A righte Merrie Christmasse!!!
The Story of Christ-tide
By John Ashton.
Copperplate Etching of
"The Wassail Song," by
Arthur C. Behrend.
London: published by the Leadenhall
Press, Ltd., 50 Leadenhall Street;
Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent
& Co., Ltd. New York: Charles
Scribner's Sons, 153-157 Fifth Avenue.
[1894]
London: published by the Leadenhall
Press, Ltd., 50 Leadenhall Street;
Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent
& Co., Ltd. New York: Charles
Scribner's Sons, 153-157 Fifth Avenue.
[1894]
Transcriber's Note: This text contains passages using the Anglo-Saxon thorn (þ, equivalent of "th"), which should display properly in most browsers. This text also contains the Anglo-Saxon yogh (equivalent of "y," "g," or "gh"), which may not display properly in some browsers. A mouse-over pop-up transliteration has been provided for words containing a yogh, e.g., Ȝe. In addition, the text contains two instances of a single m with a macron over it, signifying a double m. This is represented here as "m[m]."
Transcriber's Note: This text includes passages that use the Anglo-Saxon thorn (þ, which stands for "th"), and it should show up correctly in most browsers. It also features the Anglo-Saxon yogh (representing "y," "g," or "gh"), which might not display correctly in some browsers. A mouse-over pop-up transliteration is available for words with a yogh, such as You. Additionally, there are two instances of a single m with a macron over it, indicating a double m. This is shown here as "m[m]."
TO THE READER
I do not craue mo thankes to haue, than geuen to me all ready be; but this is all, to such as shall peruse this book. That, for my sake, they gently take what ere they finde against their minde, when he, or she, shal minded be there to look. Tusser. |
PREFACE
It is with a view of preserving the memory of Christmas that I have written this book.
I wrote this book to preserve the memory of Christmas.
In it the reader will find its History, Legends, Folk-lore, Customs, and Carols—in fact, an epitome of Old Christ-tide, forming a volume which, it is hoped, will be found full of interest.
In it, the reader will find its History, Legends, Folklore, Customs, and Carols—in fact, a summary of Old Christmas, creating a volume that, hopefully, will be engaging.
JOHN ASHTON.
JOHN ASHTON.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
Date of Christ's Birth discussed—Opinions of the Fathers—The Eastern Church and Christ-tide—Error in Chronology—Roman Saturnalia—Scandinavian Yule—Duration of Christ-tide 1
Date of Christ's Birth discussed—Opinions of the Fathers—The Eastern Church and Christmastime—Error in Chronology—Roman Saturnalia—Scandinavian Yule—Duration of Christmastime 1
CHAPTER II
Historic Christ-tides in 790, 878, and 1065—William I., 1066-1085—William II.—Henry I., 1127—Stephen—Henry II., 1158-1171—Richard I., 1190—John, 1200—Henry III., 1253—Edwards I., II., and III.—Richard II., 1377-1398—Henry IV.-V., 1418—Henry VIII., his magnificent Christ-tides 9
Historic Christmastimes in 790, 878, and 1065—William I., 1066-1085—William II.—Henry I., 1127—Stephen—Henry II., 1158-1171—Richard I., 1190—John, 1200—Henry III., 1253—Edward I., II., and III.—Richard II., 1377-1398—Henry IV-V., 1418—Henry VIII., his magnificent Christmastimes 9
CHAPTER III
Historic Christ-tides—Edward VI., 1551—Mary—Elizabeth—James I.—The Puritans—The Pilgrim Fathers—Christmas's Lamentation—Christ-tide in the Navy, 1625 19
Historic Christ-tides—Edward VI., 1551—Mary—Elizabeth—James I.—The Puritans—The Pilgrim Fathers—Christmas's Lamentation—Christ-tide in the Navy, 1625 19
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
The popular love of Christmas—Riots at Ealing and Canterbury—Evelyn's Christmas days, 1652, '3, '4, '5, '7, Cromwell and Christ-tide—The Restoration—Pepys and Christmas day, 1662—"The Examination and Tryal of old Father Christmas" 34
The popular celebration of Christmas—Riots in Ealing and Canterbury—Evelyn's Christmas days, 1652, '3, '4, '5, '7, Cromwell and Christmas—The Restoration—Pepys and Christmas day, 1662—"The Examination and Trial of old Father Christmas" 34
CHAPTER VI
Commencement of Christ-tide—"O Sapientia!"—St. Thomas's day—William the Conqueror and the City of York—Providing for Christmas fare—Charities of food—Bull-baiting—Christ-tide charities—Going "a-Thomassing," etc.—Superstitions of the day 45
Commencement of Christmas season—"O Wisdom!"—St. Thomas's day—William the Conqueror and the City of York—Getting ready for Christmas meals—Food charities—Bull-baiting—Christmas charities—Going "a-Thomassing," etc.—Day's superstitions 45
CHAPTER VII
Paddington Charity (Bread and Cheese Lands)—Barring-out at Schools—Interesting narrative 53
Paddington Charity (Bread and Cheese Lands)—Barring-out at Schools—Interesting narrative 53
CHAPTER VIII
The Bellman—Descriptions of him—His verses. The Waits—Their origin—Ned Ward on them—Corporation Waits—York Waits (17th century)—Essay on Waits—Westminster Waits—Modern Waits 63
The Bellman—Descriptions of him—His poems. The Waits—Their origins—Ned Ward on them—Corporation Waits—York Waits (17th century)—Essay on Waits—Westminster Waits—Modern Waits 63
CHAPTER IX
Christ-tide Carols—The days of Yule—A Carol for Christ-tide—"Lullaby"—The Cherry-tree Carol—Dives and Lazarus 70
Christmastime Carols—The days of Yule—A Carol for Christmastime—"Lullaby"—The Cherry-tree Carol—Dives and Lazarus 70
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
Christmas Eve in North Notts—Wassailing the Fruit Trees—Wassail Songs—Wassailing in Sussex—Other Customs—King at Downside College—Christ-tide Carol—Midnight Mass—The Manger—St. Francis of Assisi 84
Christmas Eve in North Notts—Wassailing the Fruit Trees—Wassail Songs—Wassailing in Sussex—Other Customs—King at Downside College—Christmas Carol—Midnight Mass—The Manger—St. Francis of Assisi 84
CHAPTER XII
Decorating with Evergreens—Its Origin and Antiquity—Mistletoe in Churches—The permissible Evergreens—The Holly—"Holly and Ivy"—"Here comes Holly"—"Ivy, chief of Trees"—"The Contest of the Ivy and the Holly"—Holly Folk-lore—Church Decorations—To be kept up till Candlemas day 91
Decorating with Evergreens—Its Origin and History—Mistletoe in Churches—Allowed Evergreens—The Holly—"Holly and Ivy"—"Here Comes Holly"—"Ivy, Chief of Trees"—"The Contest of Ivy and Holly"—Holly Folklore—Church Decorations—To be kept up until Candlemas day 91
CHAPTER XIII
Legends of the Nativity—The Angels—The Birth—The Cradles—The Ox and Ass—Legends of Animals—The Carol of St. Stephen—Christmas Wolves—Dancing for a Twelve-months—Underground Bells—The Fiddler and the Devil 97
Legends of the Nativity—The Angels—The Birth—The Cradles—The Ox and Ass—Legends of Animals—The Carol of St. Stephen—Christmas Wolves—Dancing for a Year—Underground Bells—The Fiddler and the Devil 97
CHAPTER XIV
The Glastonbury Thorn, its Legend—Cuttings from it—Oaks coming into leaf on Christmas day—Folk-lore—Forecast, according to the days of the week on which Christmas falls—Other Folk-lore thereon 105
The Glastonbury Thorn, its legend—Cuttings from it—Oaks budding on Christmas day—Folklore—Predictions based on the days of the week that Christmas falls on—Other folklore related to it 105
CHAPTER XV
Withholding Light—"Wesley Bob"—Wassail Carol—Presents in Church—Morris Dancers—"First Foot"—Red-haired Men—Lamprey Pie—"Hodening"—Its Possible Origin—The "Mari Lhoyd" 111
Withholding Light—"Wesley Bob"—Wassail Carol—Gifts in Church—Morris Dancers—"First Foot"—Red-haired Men—Lamprey Pie—"Hodening"—Its Possible Origin—The "Mari Lhoyd" 111
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
Ordinance against out-door Revelry—Marriage of a Lord of Misrule—Mummers and Mumming—Country Mummers—Early Play—Two modern Plays 125
Ordinance against outdoor celebrations—Marriage of a Lord of Misrule—Performers and performances—Country performers—Early plays—Two modern plays 125
CHAPTER XVIII
A Christmas jest—Ben Jonson's Masque of Christmas—Milton's Masque of Comus—Queen Elizabeth and the Masters of Defence 138
A Christmas joke—Ben Jonson's Masque of Christmas—Milton's Masque of Comus—Queen Elizabeth and the Masters of Defense 138
CHAPTER XIX
The Lord of Misrule—The "Emperor" and "King" at Oxford—Dignity of the Office—Its abolition in the City of London—The functions of a Lord of Misrule—Christmas at the Temple—A grand Christmas there 143
The Lord of Misrule—The "Emperor" and "King" at Oxford—Dignity of the Office—Its abolition in the City of London—The roles of a Lord of Misrule—Christmas at the Temple—A grand Christmas there 143
CHAPTER XX
A riotous Lord of Misrule at the Temple—Stubbes on Lords of Misrule—The Bishops ditto—Mumming at Norwich 1440—Dancing at the Inns of Court—Dancing at Christmas—The Cushion Dance 155
A chaotic Lord of Misrule at the Temple—Stubbes on Lords of Misrule—The Bishops too—Mumming in Norwich 1440—Dancing at the Inns of Court—Dancing at Christmas—The Cushion Dance 155
CHAPTER XXI
Honey Fairs—Card-playing at Christmas—Throwing the Hood—Early Religious Plays—Moralities—Story of a Gray's Inn Play—The first Pantomime—Spectacular drama—George Barnwell—Story respecting this Play 162
Honey Fairs—Playing cards at Christmas—Tossing the hood—Early religious plays—Moralities—Tale of a Gray's Inn play—The first pantomime—Dramatic spectacle—George Barnwell—Story about this play 162
CHAPTER XXII
Profusion of Food at Christ-tide—Old English Fare—Hospitality—Proclamations for People to spend Christ-tide at their Country Places—Roast Beef—Boar's Head—Boar's Head Carol—Custom at Queen's College, Oxon.—Brawn—Christmas Pie—Goose Pie—Plum Pudding—Plum Porridge—Anecdotes of Plum Pudding—Large one—Mince Pies—Hackin—Folk-lore—Gifts at Christ-tide—Yule Doughs—Cop-a-loaf—Snap-dragon 169[Pg xi]
Profusion of Food at Christmas—Old English Fare—Hospitality—Invitations for People to celebrate Christmas at their Country Homes—Roast Beef—Boar's Head—Boar's Head Carol—Tradition at Queen's College, Oxford—Brawn—Christmas Pie—Goose Pie—Plum Pudding—Plum Porridge—Stories about Plum Pudding—Large ones—Mince Pies—Hackin—Folk-lore—Gifts at Christmas—Yule Doughs—Cop-a-loaf—Snap-dragon 169[Pg xi]
CHAPTER XXIII
The First Carol—Anglo-Norman Carol—Fifteenth-Century Carol—"The Twelve Good Joys of Mary"—Other Carols—"A Virgin most Pure"—Carol of Fifteenth Century—"A Christenmesse Carroll" 180
The First Carol—Anglo-Norman Carol—Fifteenth-Century Carol—"The Twelve Good Joys of Mary"—Other Carols—"A Virgin most Pure"—Fifteenth-Century Carol—"A Christenmesse Carroll" 180
CHAPTER XXIV
Christmas Gifts forbidden in the City of London—Charles II. and Christmas Gifts—Christmas Tree—Asiatic Descent—Scandinavian Descent—Candles on the Tree—Early Notices of in England—Santa Claus—Krishkinkle—Curious Tenures of Land at Christmas 186
Christmas gifts banned in the City of London—Charles II. and Christmas gifts—Christmas tree—Asian descent—Scandinavian descent—candles on the tree—early mentions in England—Santa Claus—Krishkinkle—interesting land tenures at Christmas 186
CHAPTER XXV
Christ-tide Literature—Christmas Cards—Their Origin—Lamplighter's Verses—Watchman's Verses—Christmas Pieces 194
Christmastime Literature—Christmas Cards—Their Origin—Lamplighter's Verses—Watchman's Verses—Christmas Pieces 194
CHAPTER XXVI
Carol for St. Stephen's Day—Boxing Day—Origin of Custom—Early examples—The Box—Bleeding Horses—Festivity on this Day—Charity at Bampton—Hunting the Wren in Ireland—Song of the Wren Boys 201
Carol for St. Stephen's Day—Boxing Day—Origin of Custom—Early examples—The Box—Bleeding Horses—Festivity on this Day—Charity at Bampton—Hunting the Wren in Ireland—Song of the Wren Boys 201
CHAPTER XXVII
St. John's Day—Legend of the Saint—Carols for the Day—Holy Innocents—Whipping Children—Boy Bishops—Ceremonies connected therewith—The King of Cockney's Unlucky Day—Anecdote thereon—Carol for the Day 207
St. John's Day—Legend of the Saint—Carols for the Day—Holy Innocents—Disciplining Kids—Boy Bishops—Ceremonies related to them—The King of Cockney's Unlucky Day—Anecdote about it—Carol for the Day 207
CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXIX
New Year's Day—Carol—New Year's Gifts—"Dipping"—Riding the "Stang"—Curious Tenures—God Cakes—The "Quaaltagh"—"First foot" in Scotland—Highland Customs—In Ireland—Weather Prophecies—Handsel Monday 220
New Year's Day—Carol—New Year's Gifts—"Dipping"—Riding the "Stang"—Curious Tenures—God Cakes—The "Quaaltagh"—"First foot" in Scotland—Highland Customs—In Ireland—Weather Prophecies—Handsel Monday 220
CHAPTER XXX
Eve of Twelfth Day—Thirteen Fires—Tossing the Cake—Wassailing Apple-Trees—The Eve in Ireland—Twelfth Day, or Epiphany—Carol for the Day—Royal Offerings 232
Eve of Twelfth Night—Thirteen Fires—Tossing the Cake—Wassailing Apple Trees—The Eve in Ireland—Twelfth Night, or Epiphany—Carol for the Day—Royal Offerings 232
CHAPTER XXXI
"The King of the Bean"—Customs on Twelfth Day—Twelfth Cakes—Twelfth Night Characters—Modern Twelfth Night—The Pastry Cook's Shops—Dethier's Lottery—The Song of the Wren—"Holly Night" at Brough—"Cutting off the Fiddler's Head" 238
"The King of the Bean"—Traditions on Twelfth Day—Twelfth Cakes—Twelfth Night Characters—Contemporary Twelfth Night—The Pastry Chef's Shops—Dethier's Lottery—The Wren Song—"Holly Night" at Brough—"Beheading the Fiddler" 238
CHAPTER XXXII
St. Distaff's Day—Plough Monday—Customs on the Day—Feast of the Purification 246
St. Distaff's Day—Plough Monday—Traditions on the Day—Feast of the Purification 246
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CHAPTER 1 Date of Christ's Birth discussed—Opinions of the Fathers—The Eastern Church and Christ-tide—Error in Chronology—Roman Saturnalia—Scandinavian Yule—Duration of Christ-tide. |
The day on which Jesus Christ died is plainly distinguishable, but the day of His birth is open to very much question, and, literally, is only conjectural; so that the 25th December must be taken purely as the day on which His birth is celebrated, and not as His absolute natal day. In this matter we can only follow the traditions of the Church, and tradition alone has little value.
The day Jesus Christ died is clearly identifiable, but the exact day of His birth is highly debatable and is really just a guess; therefore, December 25th should be viewed purely as the day we celebrate His birth, not as the definitive date of His birth. In this case, we can only rely on the traditions of the Church, and tradition by itself holds little significance.
In the second and early third centuries of our æra, we only know that the festivals, other than Sundays and days set apart for the remembrance of particular martyrs, were the Passover, Pentecost, and the Epiphany, the baptism or manifestation of our Lord, when came "a voice from Heaven saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." This seems always to have been fixed for the 6th of January, and with it was incorporated the commemoration of His birth.
In the second and early third centuries of our era, we only know that the festivals, aside from Sundays and days dedicated to remembering specific martyrs, were Passover, Pentecost, and Epiphany, which celebrates the baptism or manifestation of our Lord, when "a voice from Heaven said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." This has always been observed on January 6th, and it also included the commemoration of His birth.
Titus Flavius Clemens, generally known as Clemens of Alexandria, lived exactly at this time, and was a contemporary of Origen. He speaks plainly on the subject, and shows the uncertainty, even at that early epoch of Christianity, of fixing the date:[1] "There are those who, with an over-busy curiosity, attempt to fix not only the year, but the date of our Saviour's birth, who, they say, was born in the twenty-eighth year of Augustus, on the 25th of the[Pg 2] month Pachon," i.e. the 20th of May. And in another place he says: "Some say that He was born on the 24th or 25th of the month Pharmuthi," which would be the 19th or 20th of April.
Titus Flavius Clemens, commonly referred to as Clemens of Alexandria, lived around this time and was a contemporary of Origen. He clearly addresses the issue and highlights the uncertainty, even at such an early stage in Christianity, about determining the date:[1] "There are those who, with excessive curiosity, try to establish not just the year, but the exact date of our Savior's birth, claiming He was born in the twenty-eighth year of Augustus, on the 25th of the[Pg 2] month Pachon," i.e. the 20th of May. He also states in another place: "Some say that He was born on the 24th or 25th of the month Pharmuthi," which would be the 19th or 20th of April.
But, perhaps, the best source of information is from the Mémoires pour servir à l'histoire ecclésiastique des six premiers Siècles, by Louis Sebastian le Nain de Tillemont, written at the very commencement of the eighteenth century,[2] and I have no hesitation in appending a portion of his fourth note, which treats "Upon the day and year of the birth of Jesus Christ."
But maybe the best source of information is from the Mémoires pour servir à l'histoire ecclésiastique des six premiers Siècles, by Louis Sebastian le Nain de Tillemont, written at the very beginning of the eighteenth century,[2] and I have no doubt in including part of his fourth note, which discusses "Upon the day and year of the birth of Jesus Christ."
"It is thought that Jesus Christ was born in the night, because it was night when the angel declared His birth to the shepherds: in which S. Augustin says that He literally fulfilled David's words, Ante luciferum genuite.
"It is believed that Jesus Christ was born at night, since it was night when the angel announced His birth to the shepherds. In this, St. Augustine says that He literally fulfilled David's words, Ante luciferum genuite.
"The tradition of the Church, says this father, is that it was upon the 25th of December. Casaubon acknowledges that we should not immediately reject it upon the pretence that it is too cold a season for cattle to be at pasture, there being a great deal of difference between these countries and Judæa; and he assures us that, even in England, they leave the cows in the field all the year round.
"The tradition of the Church, this father says, is that it was on the 25th of December. Casaubon admits that we shouldn't dismiss it right away just because it's too cold for cattle to graze, noting that there's a significant difference between these countries and Judea; and he points out that, even in England, they keep cows in the fields all year long."
"S. Chrysostom alleges several reasons to prove that Jesus Christ was really born upon the 25th of December; but they are weak enough, except that which he assures of, that it has always been the belief of the Western Churches. S. Epiphanius, who will have the day to have been the 6th of January, places it but at twelve days' distance. S. Clement of Alexandria says that, in his time, some fixed the birth of Jesus Christ upon the 19th or 20th April; others, on the 20th of May. He speaks of it as not seeing anything certain in it.
"S. Chrysostom offers several reasons to show that Jesus Christ was actually born on December 25th, but they’re pretty weak, except for the one he insists on: that it has always been the belief of the Western Churches. S. Epiphanius, who claims the date was January 6th, is only twelve days off. S. Clement of Alexandria mentions that, during his time, some dated the birth of Jesus Christ to either April 19th or 20th; others said it was on May 20th. He notes that he doesn't find anything certain about it."
"It is cited from one John of Nice, that it was only under Pope Julius that the Festival of the Nativity was fixed at Rome upon the 25th of December. Father Combesisius, who has published the epistle of this author, confesses that he is very modern: to which we may add that he is full of idle stories, and entirely ignorant of the history and discipline of antiquity. So that it is better to rest upon the[Pg 3] testimony of S. Chrysostom, who asserts that, for a long time before, and by very ancient tradition, it was celebrated upon the 25th of December in the West, that is, in all the countries which reach from Thrace to Cadiz, and to the farthest parts of Spain. He names Rome particularly; and thinks that it might be found there that this was the true day of our Saviour's birth, by consulting the registers of the description of Judæa made at that time, supposing them still to be preserved there. We find this festival placed upon the 25th of December in the ancient Roman Calendar, which was probably made in the year 354....
"It is mentioned by one John of Nice that it was only under Pope Julius that the Festival of the Nativity was established in Rome on December 25th. Father Combesisius, who published the letter of this author, admits that he is quite modern. To this, we can add that he is full of trivial tales and completely unaware of the history and practices of the past. Therefore, it is better to rely on the[Pg 3] testimony of S. Chrysostom, who states that for a long time before, and by very ancient tradition, it was celebrated on December 25th in the West, meaning in all the regions stretching from Thrace to Cadiz and the farthest parts of Spain. He specifically mentions Rome and believes that it might be proven there that this was the actual day of our Savior's birth by checking the records of the census of Judea made at that time, assuming they are still preserved there. We see this festival marked on December 25th in the ancient Roman Calendar, which was likely created in 354....
"We find by S. Basil's homily upon the birth of our Lord that a festival in commemoration of it was observed in Cappadocia, provided that this homily is all his; but I am not of opinion that it appears from thence either that this was done in January rather than December or any other month in the year, or that this festival was joined with that of the Baptism. On the contrary, the Churches of Cappadocia seem to have distinguished the Feast of the Nativity from that of the Epiphany, for S. Gregory Nazianzen says, that after he had been ordained priest, in the year 361, upon the festival of one mystery, he retired immediately after into Pontus, on that of another mystery, and returned from Pontus upon that of a third. Now we find that he returned at Easter, so that there is all imaginable reason to believe that he was ordained at Christmas, and retired upon the Epiphany. S. Basil died, in all probability, upon the 1st of January in the year 379, and S. Gregory Nyssen says that his festival followed close upon those of Christmas, S. Stephen, S. Peter, S. James, and S. John. We read in an oration ascribed to S. Amphilochius, that he died on the day of the Circumcision, between the Nativity of Jesus Christ and His Baptism. S. Gregory Nyssen says that the Feast of Lights, and of the Baptism of Jesus Christ, was celebrated some days after that of His Nativity. The other S. Gregory takes notice of several mysteries which were commemorated at Nazianzium with the Nativity, the Magi, etc., but he says nothing, in that place, of the Baptism. And yet, if the festival of Christmas was observed in Cappadocia upon the 25th of December, we must say that[Pg 4] S. Chrysostom was ignorant of it, since he ascribes this practice only to Thrace and the more Western provinces....
"We find from St. Basil's homily on the birth of our Lord that a festival to commemorate it was celebrated in Cappadocia, assuming this homily is entirely his. However, I don’t think it indicates that this celebration occurred in January rather than December or any other month, nor that it was combined with the Baptism. On the contrary, the churches in Cappadocia appear to have marked the Feast of the Nativity separately from the Epiphany, as St. Gregory Nazianzen mentions that after his ordination as a priest in 361, he left immediately following the festival of one mystery, went to Pontus for another, and came back from Pontus for a third. We know he returned at Easter, which strongly suggests he was ordained at Christmas and left after the Epiphany. St. Basil likely died on January 1 in 379, and St. Gregory Nyssen notes that his festival came soon after those of Christmas, St. Stephen, St. Peter, St. James, and St. John. An oration attributed to St. Amphilochius states that he died on the day of the Circumcision, between the Nativity of Jesus Christ and His Baptism. St. Gregory Nyssen also mentions that the Feast of Lights, and the Baptism of Jesus Christ, were celebrated a few days after His Nativity. The other St. Gregory notes several mysteries that were commemorated at Nazianzium alongside the Nativity, the Magi, etc., but he doesn’t mention the Baptism in that context. Yet, if the Christmas festival was celebrated in Cappadocia on December 25, we must conclude that St. Chrysostom was unaware of it, since he attributes this practice only to Thrace and the more Western provinces...."
"In the year 377, or soon after, some persons who came from Rome, introduced into Syria the practice of celebrating our Lord's Nativity in the month of December, upon the same day as was done in the West; and this festival was so well received in that country that in less than ten years it was entirely established at Antioch, and was observed there by all the people with great solemnity, though some complained of it as an innovation. S. Chrysostom, who informs us of all this, speaks of it in such a manner as to make Father Thomassin say, not that the birth of Jesus Christ had till then been kept upon a wrong day, but that absolutely it had not been celebrated there at all.
"In the year 377, or shortly after, some people who came from Rome introduced the practice of celebrating our Lord's Nativity in December, on the same day as it was done in the West; and this festival was so well received in Syria that within less than ten years it was fully established in Antioch, observed by everyone with great solemnity, though some complained that it was a new thing. St. Chrysostom, who tells us all this, explains it in such a way that Father Thomassin notes not that the birth of Jesus Christ had been celebrated on the wrong day until then, but that it had not been celebrated there at all."
"S. Chrysostom seems to say, that this festival was received at the same time by the neighbouring provinces to Antioch; but this must not be extended as far as to Egypt, as we learn from a passage in Cassian. This author seems to speak only of the time when he was in Scetæ (about 399), but also of that when he wrote his tenth conference (about the year 420 or 425). But it appears that, in the year 432, Egypt had likewise embraced the practice of Rome: for Paul of Emesa, in the discourse which he made then at Alexandria upon the 29th of Coiac, which is the 25th of December, says it was the day on which Jesus Christ was born. S. Isidore of Pelusium, in Egypt, mentions the Theophany and the Nativity of our Saviour, according to the flesh, as two different festivals. We were surprised to read in an oration of Basil of Seleucia, upon S. Stephen, that Juvenal of Jerusalem, who might be made bishop about the year 420, was the first who celebrated there our Saviour's Nativity."
"S. Chrysostom appears to suggest that this festival was adopted around the same time by the neighboring provinces of Antioch; however, this should not be interpreted to include Egypt, as indicated by a passage from Cassian. This author seems to refer only to the period when he was in Scetæ (around 399), as well as when he wrote his tenth conference (circa 420 or 425). Nevertheless, it seems that by the year 432, Egypt had also embraced the Roman practice: Paul of Emesa, in a speech he gave in Alexandria on the 29th of Coiac, which is December 25th, states it was the day Jesus Christ was born. S. Isidore of Pelusium in Egypt mentions the Theophany and the Nativity of our Savior as two separate festivals. We were surprised to read in a sermon by Basil of Seleucia on S. Stephen that Juvenal of Jerusalem, who could have been made bishop around the year 420, was the first to celebrate the Nativity of our Savior there."
The Armenian Church still keeps up the eastern 6th of January as Christmas day—and, as the old style of the calendar is retained, it follows that they celebrate the Nativity twenty-four days after we do: and modern writers make the matter more mixed—for Wiesseler thinks that the date of the Nativity was 10th January, whilst Mr. Greswell says it occurred on the 9th April B.C. 4.
The Armenian Church still observes January 6th as Christmas Day—and since they continue to use the old calendar, they celebrate the Nativity twenty-four days after we do. Modern writers complicate things further—Wiesseler believes the Nativity date was January 10th, while Mr. Greswell claims it happened on April 9th, 4 B.C.
It is not everybody that knows that our system of chronology is four years wrong—i.e. that Jesus Christ must[Pg 5] have been born four years before Anno Domini, the year of our Lord. It happened in this way. Dionysius Exiguus, in 533, first introduced the system of writing the words Anno Domini, to point out the number of years which had elapsed since the Incarnation of our Lord; in other words he introduced our present chronology. He said the year 1 was the same as the year A.U.C. (from the building of Rome) 754; and this statement he based on the fact that our Saviour was born in the twenty-eighth year of the reign of Augustus; and he reckoned from A.U.C. 727, when the emperor first took the name of Augustus. The early Christians, however, dated from the battle of Actium, which was A.U.C. 723, thus making the Nativity 750. Now we believe that that event took place during Herod's reign, and we know that Herod died between the 13th March and 29th March, on which day Passover commenced, in A.U.C. 750, so that it stands to reason that our chronology is wrong.
Not everyone knows that our system of dating is four years off—that Jesus Christ must have been born four years before Anno Domini, the year of our Lord. Here's how it happened. Dionysius Exiguus introduced the Anno Domini system in 533 to indicate the number of years since the Incarnation of our Lord; in other words, he created our current way of keeping time. He claimed that year 1 was the same as year A.U.C. (from the founding of Rome) 754, based on the belief that our Savior was born in the twenty-eighth year of Augustus's reign, beginning his count from A.U.C. 727, when Augustus first took that title. However, early Christians dated from the battle of Actium, which was A.U.C. 723, putting the Nativity at 750. We now believe that this event took place during Herod's reign, and records show that Herod died between March 13 and March 29, the day Passover began, in A.U.C. 750, so it’s clear that our dating system is incorrect.
Some think that the date of 25th December, which certainly began in the Roman Church, was fixed upon to avoid the multiplication of festivals about the vernal equinox, and to appropriate to a Christian use the existing festival of the winter solstice—the returning sun being made symbolical of the visit of Christ to our earth; and to withdraw Christian converts from those pagan observances with which the closing year was crowded, whilst the licence of the Saturnalia was turned into the merriment of Christmas.
Some believe that the date of December 25th, which definitely started in the Roman Church, was chosen to reduce the number of celebrations around the spring equinox and to Christianize the existing festival of the winter solstice—the returning sun being seen as a symbol of Christ's arrival on earth; it was also meant to draw Christian converts away from the pagan customs that filled the end of the year, while the indulgence of the Saturnalia was transformed into the joy of Christmas.
This festival of the Saturnalia (of which the most complete account is given by Macrobius in his Conviviorum Saturnaliorum) dated from the remotest settlement of Latium, whose people reverenced Saturnus as the author of husbandry and the arts of life. At this festival the utmost freedom of social intercourse was permitted to all classes; even slaves were allowed to come to the tables of their masters clothed in their apparel, and were waited on by those whom they were accustomed to serve. Feasting, gaming, and revelry were the occupations of all classes, without discrimination of age, or sex, or rank. Processions crowded the streets, boisterous with mirth: these illuminated the night with lighted tapers of wax, which were also used as gifts between friends in the humbler walks of life. The season was one for the exchange[Pg 6] of gifts of friendship, and especially of gifts to children. It began on the 17th December, and extended virtually, to the commencement of the New Year.
This festival of Saturnalia (with the most detailed account provided by Macrobius in his Conviviorum Saturnaliorum) originated from the earliest settlements of Latium, where people respected Saturnus as the god of farming and the arts of living. During this festival, total freedom of social interaction was allowed for everyone; even slaves could join their masters at the table dressed in their own clothes and were served by those they usually helped. Everyone engaged in feasting, games, and fun, regardless of age, gender, or social status. The streets were filled with lively processions that lit up the night with wax torches, which were also given as gifts between friends in lower social classes. This was a time for exchanging gifts of friendship, especially for children. It started on December 17th and lasted until just before New Year's Day.
Prynne[3] speaks thus of Christmas: "If we compare our Bacchanalian Christmasses and New Year's Tides with these Saturnalia and Feasts of Janus, we shall finde such near affinytie betweene them both in regard of time (they being both in the end of December and on the first of January), and in their manner of solemnizing (both of them being spent in revelling, epicurisme, wantonesse, idlenesse, dancing, drinking, stage playes, and such other Christmas disorders now in use with Christians), were derived from these Roman Saturnalia and Bacchanalian Festivals; which should cause all pious Christians eternally to abominate them."
Prynne[3] says this about Christmas: "If we compare our wild Christmas and New Year celebrations to the Saturnalia and the Feasts of Janus, we’ll find a close connection between the two, both in terms of timing (occurring at the end of December and on the first of January) and in how they’re celebrated (both involve partying, indulgence, lewdness, laziness, dancing, drinking, performances, and other chaotic Christmas practices that are now common among Christians), which originated from the Roman Saturnalia and Bacchanalian Festivals; this should make all devout Christians reject them completely."
The Anglo-Saxons and early English knew not the words either of Christmas or Christ-tide. To them it was the season of Yule. Bede (de temporum ratione, c. 13), regards it as a term for the winter solstice. "Menses Giuli a conversione solis in auctum dici, quia unus eorum præcedit, alius subsequitur, nomina acceperunt": alluding to the Anglo-Saxon Calendar, which designated the months of December and January as æerre-geola and æftera-geola, the former and the latter Yule. Both Skeat and Wedgwood derive it from the old Norse jól, which means feasting and revelry. Mr. J.F. Hodgetts, in an article entitled "Paganism in Modern Christianity" (Antiquary, December 1882, p. 257), says:—
The Anglo-Saxons and early English didn't use the words Christmas or Christ-tide. To them, it was the season of Yule. Bede (de temporum ratione, c. 13) sees it as a term for the winter solstice. "Menses Giuli a conversione solis in auctum dici, quia unus eorum præcedit, alius subsequitur, nomina acceperunt": referring to the Anglo-Saxon Calendar, which named the months of December and January as æerre-geola and æftera-geola, meaning the former and the latter Yule. Both Skeat and Wedgwood trace it back to the old Norse jól, which signifies feasting and celebration. Mr. J.F. Hodgetts, in an article titled "Paganism in Modern Christianity" (Antiquary, December 1882, p. 257), says:—
"The ancient name (Yule) for Christmas is still used throughout all Scandinavia. The Swedes, Danes, and Norwegians wish each other a 'glad Yule,' as we say 'A merry Christmas to you.' This alone would serve to draw our attention to Scandinavia, even if no other reason existed for searching there for the origin of our great Christian Feast. The grand storehouses of Pagan lore, as far as the Northern nations of Teutonic race are concerned, are the two Eddas, and if we refer to the part, or chapter, of Snorri Sturlson's Edda, known as Gylfa Ginning, we shall find the twelfth name of Odin, the Father of the Gods, or Allfather, given as Iàlg or Iàlkr (pronounced yolk or yulg). The Christmas[Pg 7] tree, introduced into Russia by the Scandinavians, is called ëlka (pronounced yolka), and in the times just preceding, and just after, the conquest of Britain by the English, this high feast of Odin was held in mid-winter, under the name of Iàlka tid, or Yule-tide. It was celebrated at this season, because the Vikings, being then unable to go to sea, could assemble in their great halls and temples and drink to the gods they served so well. Another reason was, that it fell towards the end of the twelve mystic months that made up the mythical, as well as the cosmical, cycle of the year, and was therefore appropriately designated by the last of the names by which Odin is called in the Edda."
The ancient name (Yule) for Christmas is still used across all of Scandinavia. The Swedes, Danes, and Norwegians wish each other a "glad Yule," similar to how we say "Merry Christmas." This alone would draw our attention to Scandinavia, even if there weren't any other reasons to explore the origins of our significant Christian celebration there. The main repositories of Pagan stories, regarding the Northern nations of Teutonic descent, are the two Eddas. If we look at the part, or chapter, of Snorri Sturlson's Edda called Gylfa Ginning, we find the twelfth name of Odin, the Father of the Gods or Allfather, listed as Iàlg or Iàlkr (pronounced yolk or yulg). The Christmas[Pg 7] tree, brought into Russia by the Scandinavians, is called ëlka (pronounced yolka), and during the times just before and after the conquest of Britain by the English, this grand feast of Odin was celebrated in mid-winter, known as Iàlka tid, or Yule-tide. It was held during this season because the Vikings, unable to sail, could gather in their grand halls and temples to toast the gods they honored so well. Another reason it was celebrated then was that it aligned with the end of the twelve mystical months that made up both the mythical and cosmic cycles of the year and was therefore fittingly marked by the last of the names for Odin in the Edda.
There are different opinions as to the duration of Christ-tide. The Roman Church holds that Christmas properly begins at Lauds on Christmas Eve, when the Divine Office begins to be solemnised as a Double, and refers directly to the Nativity of our Lord. It terminates on the 13th of January, the Octave day of the Epiphany. The evergreens and decorations remain in churches and houses until the 2nd of February, the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
There are various views on how long the Christmas season lasts. The Roman Church believes that Christmas officially begins at Lauds on Christmas Eve, when the Divine Office is celebrated as a Double and relates directly to the birth of our Lord. It ends on January 13th, the eighth day of the Epiphany. The evergreens and decorations stay up in churches and homes until February 2nd, the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord.
But I think that if we in England are bound by ecclesiastical law as to the keeping of Christ-tide, it should, at least, be an English use—such as was observed before the domination of Rome in England. And, previous to the Natale, or Festival of the Nativity, the early Church ordained a preparatory period of nine days, called a Novena. These take the commencement of Christ-tide back to the 16th December, on which day the Sarum use ordained the Anthem, which commences, "O Sapientia, quæ ex ore Altissimi prodidisti," and at the present time this day is marked in the Calendar of the English Church Service Book as "O Sapientia." That this was commonly considered the commencement of Christ-tide is shown by the following anecdote of the learned Dr. Parr:—A lady asked him when Christmas commenced, so that she might know when to begin to eat mince pies. "Please to say Christmas pie, madam," replied the Doctor. "Mince pie is Presbyterian." "Well, Christmas pie—when may we begin to eat them?" "Look in your Prayer-book Calendar for December and there you will find 'O Sapientia.' Then Christmas pie—not before."[Pg 8]
But I think that if we in England are bound by church law regarding the celebration of Christmas, it should at least be an English practice—like what was followed before Rome took over in England. And before the Natale, or Festival of the Nativity, the early Church established a preparation period of nine days, called a Novena. This dates the start of Christmas back to December 16th, on which day the Sarum rite mandated the Anthem that begins, "O Sapientia, quæ ex ore Altissimi prodidisti," and today this day is noted in the Calendar of the English Church Service Book as "O Sapientia." The fact that this was commonly seen as the beginning of Christmas is illustrated by the following story about the well-known Dr. Parr:—A lady asked him when Christmas started, so she would know when to begin eating mince pies. "Please say Christmas pie, madam," the Doctor replied. "Mince pie is Presbyterian." "Well, Christmas pie—when can we start eating them?" "Check your Prayer-book Calendar for December, and you'll see 'O Sapientia.' Then you can have your Christmas pie—not before." [Pg 8]
The Festival was considered of such high importance by the Anglo-Saxons that the ordinary Octave was not good enough; it must be kept up for twelve days. And Collier (Eccl. Hist., 1840, vol. i. p. 285) says that a law passed in the days of King Alfred, "by virtue of which the twelve days after the Nativity of our Saviour are made festivals." This brings us to the feast of the Epiphany, 6th January, or "Twelfth Day," when Christmas ends—for the Epiphany has its own Octave to follow, and I think the general consensus of opinion is in favour of this ending.
The Festival was considered so important by the Anglo-Saxons that the usual Octave wasn’t enough; it had to be celebrated for twelve days. Collier (Eccl. Hist., 1840, vol. i. p. 285) mentions that a law passed during King Alfred's reign "established the twelve days after the Nativity of our Saviour as festivals." This leads us to the feast of the Epiphany on January 6th, known as "Twelfth Day," when Christmas officially concludes—since the Epiphany has its own Octave to follow, and I believe the general agreement supports this conclusion.
The earliest historic Christmas in England was 790, when the Welsh suddenly attacked the soldiers of Offa, King of Mercia, who were celebrating Christ-tide, and slew many of them; and in 878, when Alfred was doing likewise at Chippenham, that Guthrum and his Danes fell upon him, destroyed his forces, and sent him a fugitive. In 1065, at this season, Westminster Abbey was consecrated, but King Edward was not there, being too ill. Next year, in this same Church of St. Peter, was William I. crowned on Christmas day by Aldred, archbishop of York; for he would not receive the crown at the hands of Stigand, archbishop of Canterbury, "because he was hated, and furthermore judged to be a verie lewd person, and a naughtie liver." In 1085 he kept his Christ-tide at Gloucester, where he knighted his son Henry.
The earliest recorded Christmas in England was in 790, when the Welsh unexpectedly attacked the soldiers of Offa, King of Mercia, who were celebrating Christmastime, killing many of them; and in 878, when Alfred was doing the same at Chippenham, Guthrum and his Danes attacked him, defeated his forces, and forced him to flee. In 1065, during this season, Westminster Abbey was consecrated, but King Edward wasn’t there because he was too ill. The following year, in this same Church of St. Peter, William I was crowned on Christmas Day by Aldred, archbishop of York; he refused to accept the crown from Stigand, archbishop of Canterbury, "because he was hated, and also regarded as a very corrupt and immoral person." In 1085 he celebrated Christmastime in Gloucester, where he knighted his son Henry.
William II. followed the example of his father, and kept the festival in state; as did Henry I. at Westminster, Windsor, and elsewhere. But that of 1127 at Windsor was somewhat marred by a quarrel between two prelates. It seems that Thurston, archbishop of York (in prejudice of the right of William, archbishop of Canterbury), would have set the crown on the king's head as he was going to hear Mass, but was pushed back with some violence by the followers of the other archbishop, and his chaplain, who was bearing the archiepiscopal crozier, was ignominiously and contemptuously[Pg 10] thrust out of doors, cross and all. The strife did not end there, for both the prelates, together with the bishop of Lincoln, went to Rome to lay their case before the Pope for his decision.
William II followed his father's example and hosted the festival with great ceremony, just like Henry I did at Westminster, Windsor, and other places. However, the event in 1127 at Windsor was somewhat spoiled by a dispute between two archbishops. It seems that Thurston, the archbishop of York, wanted to place the crown on the king's head just before he was about to attend Mass, despite William, the archbishop of Canterbury, having that right. Thurston was violently pushed back by the followers of the other archbishop, and his chaplain, who was carrying the archbishop's crozier, was harshly and contemptuously thrown out, along with the cross. The conflict didn’t stop there; both archbishops and the bishop of Lincoln traveled to Rome to present their case to the Pope for a ruling.
Stephen, for a short time, kept Christ-tide royally; but the internal dissensions of his kingdom prevented him from continuing celebrating the festival in state. Henry II. kept his first Christ-tide at Bermondsey, where, to conciliate his subjects, he solemnly promised to expel all foreigners from England, whereupon some tarried not, but went incontinently. A curious event happened at Christmas 1158, when the king, then at Worcester, took the crown from his head and deposited it on the altar, never wearing it afterwards. In 1171 he spent the feast at Dublin, where, there being no place large enough, he built a temporary hall for the accommodation of his suite and guests, to which latter he taught the delights of civilisation in good cookery, masquings, and tournaments. The most famous Christ-tide that we hear of in the reign of Richard I. is that in 1190, when "the two Kings of England and France held their Christmasse this yeare at Messina, and still the King of England used great liberalitie in bestowing his treasure freelie amongst knights and other men of warre, so that it was thought he spent more in a moneth than anie of his predecessours ever spent in a whole yeare."
Stephen, for a short time, celebrated Christmas in a grand way; however, the internal conflicts in his kingdom made it impossible for him to continue celebrating the festival with the same grandeur. Henry II celebrated his first Christmas at Bermondsey, where, to win over his subjects, he officially promised to remove all foreigners from England, prompting some to leave immediately. An interesting incident took place at Christmas 1158, when the king, then in Worcester, took off his crown and placed it on the altar, never wearing it again. In 1171, he celebrated the holiday in Dublin, where, since there wasn’t a large enough venue, he built a temporary hall to accommodate his entourage and guests, whom he entertained with fine cooking, masquerades, and tournaments. The most notable Christmas during Richard I's reign occurred in 1190, when "the two Kings of England and France celebrated Christmas this year at Messina, and the King of England displayed great generosity by freely giving his treasure to knights and other warriors, to the extent that it was believed he spent more in a month than any of his predecessors ever spent in an entire year."
John kept Christ-tide in 1200 at Guildford, "and there gave to his servants manie faire liveries and suits of apparell. The archbishop of Canturburie did also the like at Canturburie, seeming in deed to strive with the king, which of them should passe the other in such sumptuous appareling of their men: whereat the king (and not without good cause) was greatlie mooved to indignation against him, although, for a time, he coloured the same." John took a speedy and very curious revenge. "From thence he returned and came to Canturburie, where he held his Easter, which fell that yeare on the day of the Annunciation of our Ladie, at which feast he sat crowned, together with his wife, queen Isabell, the archbishop of Canturburie bearing the charges of them and their trains while they remained there." Next year he held the feast at Argenton in Normandy.
John celebrated Christmas in 1200 at Guildford, "and there gave his servants many fine liveries and outfits. The Archbishop of Canterbury did the same in Canterbury, seemingly trying to outdo the king in the lavish dressing of their men: this greatly upset the king (and not without good reason), although he initially concealed his anger." John took swift and clever revenge. "From there he returned to Canterbury, where he held his Easter, which that year fell on the Feast of the Annunciation of Our Lady, at which celebration he sat crowned, along with his wife, Queen Isabel, the Archbishop of Canterbury covering the expenses for them and their attendants while they were there." The following year he held the feast at Argenton in Normandy.
Henry III. celebrated the Nativity right royally in 1253[Pg 11] at York, "whither came Alexander the young King of Scots, and was there made knight by the King of England; and, on Saint Stephan's day, he married the ladie Margaret, daughter to the King of England, according to the assurance before time concluded. There was a great assemblie of noble personages at that feast. The Queene dowager of Scotland, mother to King Alexander, a Frenchwoman of the house of Coucie, had passed the sea, and was present there with a faire companie of lords and gentlemen. The number of knights that were come thither on the King of England's part were reckoned to be at the point of one thousand. The King of Scots had with him three score knights, and a great sort of other gentlemen comparable to knights. The King of Scots did homage to the King of England, at that time, for the realme of Scotland, and all things were done with great love and favour, although, at the beginning, some strife was kindled about taking up of lodgings. This assemblie of the princes cost the archbishop verie deerelie in feasting and banketting them and their traines. At one dinner it was reported he spent at the first course three score fat oxen."
Henry III celebrated Christmas in 1253[Pg 11] at York, where Alexander, the young King of Scots, came and was knighted by the King of England. On Saint Stephen's Day, he married Margaret, the daughter of the King of England, as previously agreed. A large gathering of noble figures attended the feast. The dowager queen of Scotland, who was the mother of King Alexander and a Frenchwoman from the house of Coucie, crossed the sea and was there with a handsome group of lords and gentlemen. The number of knights who came on behalf of the King of England was counted to be nearly one thousand. The King of Scots brought with him sixty knights and many other gentlemen comparable to knights. The King of Scots paid homage to the King of England at that time for the realm of Scotland, and everything was conducted with great affection and goodwill, although there was initially some conflict about accommodation. This gathering of princes cost the archbishop quite a lot in entertaining them and their entourages. It was reported that he spent three score fat oxen on the first course of one dinner.
Edward I. had, at two separate times, as Christmas guests Llewellyn of Wales and Baliol of Scotland. Edward II. kept one feast of the Nativity at York in 1311, revelling with Piers Gaveston and his companions; but that of 1326 was spent in prison at Kenilworth, whilst his wife and son enjoyed themselves at Wallingford. Strange and sad guests, too, must the captive King of France and David of Scotland have been at Edward III.'s Christ-tide feast in 1358 at Westminster.
Edward I had, on two separate occasions, Llewellyn of Wales and Baliol of Scotland as Christmas guests. Edward II held a Christmas feast in York in 1311, celebrating with Piers Gaveston and his friends; however, in 1326, he spent the holiday in prison at Kenilworth, while his wife and son had a good time at Wallingford. It must have been strange and sad for the captive King of France and David of Scotland to be guests at Edward III's Christmas feast in 1358 at Westminster.
Richard II. came to the throne 21st June 1377, a boy of eleven years, and I think Stow has made a mistake in a year in the following account, because at the date he gives he would have been king instead of prince.
Richard II came to the throne on June 21, 1377, when he was just eleven years old, and I believe Stow made an error in the year in his account because at the date he provided, Richard would have been a king instead of a prince.
"One other show, in the year 1377, made by the citizens for the disport of the young prince Richard, son to the Black Prince, in the feast of Christmas, in this manner:—On the Sunday before Candlemas, in the night, one hundred and thirty citizens, disguised and well horsed, in a mummery, with sound of trumpets, sackbuts, cornets, shalmes, and other minstrels, and innumerable torch lights of wax, rode from Newgate through[Pg 12] Cheape, over the bridge, through Southwarke, and so to Kennington beside Lambheth, where the young prince remained with his mother and the Duke of Lancaster, his uncle, the Earls of Cambridge, Hertford, Warwicke, and Suffolke, with divers other lords. In the first rank did ride forty-eight in the likeness and habit of Esquires, two and two together, clothed in red coats and gowns of say or sandal, with comely visors on their faces; after them came forty-eight Knights, in the same livery of colour and stuff; then followed one richly arrayed like an Emperor; and, after him some distance, one stately attired like a Pope, whom followed twenty-four Cardinals; and, after them, eight or ten with black visors, not amiable, as if they had been legates from some foreign princes. These maskers, after they had entered Kennington, alighted from their horses, and entered the hall on foot; which done, the prince, his mother, and the lords, came out of the chamber into the hall, whom the said mummers did salute, showing by a pair of dice upon the table their desire to play with the prince, which they so handled, that the prince did always win when he cast them. Then the mummers set to the prince three jewels, one after the other, which were a bowl of gold, a cup of gold, and a ring of gold, which the prince won at three casts. Then they set to the prince's mother, the duke, the earls, and other lords, to every one a ring of gold, which they did also win. After which they were feasted, and the music sounded, the prince and lords danced on the one part with the mummers, which did also dance; which jollity being ended, they were again made to drink, and then departed in order as they came."
One other event, in 1377, was organized by the citizens for the entertainment of young Prince Richard, son of the Black Prince, during the Christmas feast. On the Sunday before Candlemas, at night, one hundred thirty citizens, dressed up and well-mounted, participated in a performance. They made a grand entrance accompanied by trumpets, sackbuts, cornets, shalmes, and other musicians, with countless wax torches illuminating the way. They rode from Newgate through[Pg 12] Cheape, over the bridge, through Southwark, and on to Kennington near Lambeth, where the young prince was with his mother, the Duke of Lancaster (his uncle), the Earls of Cambridge, Hertford, Warwick, Suffolk, and various other lords. In the front line rode forty-eight men disguised as squires, paired together, dressed in red coats and gowns of say or sandal with elegant visors covering their faces. Following them were forty-eight knights, dressed in the same color and material. Next came one person dressed richly like an Emperor, and a little distance behind, another elegantly attired like a Pope, followed by twenty-four Cardinals. After them were eight or ten with black visors who looked unfriendly, as if they were envoys from foreign princes. Once the maskers arrived at Kennington, they dismounted their horses and entered the hall on foot. After they did so, the prince, his mother, and the lords came out of the chamber into the hall, and the mummers greeted them. They showed their intention to play with the prince using a pair of dice placed on the table, skillfully rolling so that the prince always won. The mummers then presented the prince with three treasures, one after the other: a golden bowl, a golden cup, and a golden ring, all of which the prince won in three rolls. Then they offered the prince’s mother, the duke, the earls, and other lords each a golden ring, which they also won. Following this, they were treated to a feast, music played, and the prince and lords danced alongside the mummers, who also danced. Once the festivities concluded, they were prompted to drink again before departing in the same order they had arrived.
When he came to the throne as Richard II. he had very enlarged ideas on expenditure, and amongst others on Christmas feasts. He held one at Lichfield in 1398, where the Pope's Nuncio and several foreign noblemen were present, and he was obliged to enlarge the episcopal palace in order to accommodate his guests. Stow tells us: "This yeere King Richarde kept his Christmas at Liechfield, where he spent in the Christmas time 200 tunns of wine, and 2000 oxen with their appurtenances." But then he is said to have had 2000 cooks, and cookery was then elevated into a science: so much so, that the earliest cookery book that has[Pg 13] come down to us is The Forme of Cury, which "was compiled of the chef Mairt Cok of Kyng Richard the Secunde, Kyng of .nglond[4] aftir the Conquest." Twenty-eight oxen, three hundred sheep, an incredible number of fowls, and all kinds of game were slaughtered every morning for the use of his household. It seems incredible, but see what old John Hardyng, the metrical chronicler, says:—
When he became king as Richard II, he had big ideas about spending, especially on Christmas celebrations. In 1398, he held one in Lichfield, where the Pope's envoy and several foreign nobles attended. He even had to expand the bishop's palace to fit all his guests. Stow tells us: "This year King Richard celebrated Christmas in Lichfield, where he spent 200 tons of wine and 2,000 oxen along with all their accompaniments." He reportedly had 2,000 cooks, and cooking was seen as a serious skill; so much so that the earliest cookbook we have is The Forme of Cury, compiled by the master cook of King Richard II, King of England after the Conquest. Every morning, twenty-eight oxen, three hundred sheep, an astonishing number of birds, and all sorts of game were slaughtered for his household. It might sound unbelievable, but look at what the old chronicler John Hardyng says:—
Truly I herd Robert Ireleffe saye, Clerk of the green cloth, that belongs to the household, Came euery daye for moost partie alwaye, Ten thousand people counted by his messengers, That folowed the hous aye as thei would, And in the kitchen, three hundred servants, And in each office, there are many occupants; And ladies faire with their gentilwomen, Chambermaids and laundresses, Three hundred of them were occupied then. |
Of the Christ-tides of Henry IV. there are no events recorded, except that Stow states that "in the 2nd of his reign, he then keeping his Christmas at Eltham, twelve aldermen and their sons rode in a mumming, and had great thanks," but Henry V. had at least one sweet Christmas day. It was in the year 1418, when he was besieging Rouen, and Holinshed thus describes the sufferings of the garrison. "If I should rehearse (according to the report of diverse writers) how deerelie dogs, rats, mise, and cats were sold within the towne, and how greedilie they were by the poore people eaten and devoured, and how the people dailie died for fault of food, and young infants laie sucking in the streets on their mother's breasts, lieng dead, starved for hunger; the reader might lament their extreme miseries. A great number of poore sillie creatures were put out at the gates, which were by the Englishmen that kept the trenches, beaten and driven backe againe to the same gates, which they found closed and shut against them. And so they laie betweene the wals of the citie and the trenches of the enimies, still crieing for helpe and releefe, for lacke whereof great numbers of them dailie died.
Of the Christmas times during Henry IV's reign, there are no events recorded, except that Stow mentions, "in the 2nd year of his reign, he was celebrating Christmas at Eltham, and twelve aldermen and their sons went out mumming and received great thanks." However, Henry V had at least one memorable Christmas day. It was in the year 1418, while he was besieging Rouen, and Holinshed describes the suffering of the garrison: "If I were to recount (based on reports from various writers) how dearly dogs, rats, mice, and cats were sold within the town, and how eagerly the poor people consumed them, as well as how people died daily from lack of food, and young infants lay sucking at their dead mothers' breasts, starved from hunger, the reader would surely lament their extreme miseries. A large number of poor, miserable creatures were put out at the gates, only to be beaten and driven back by the Englishmen who held the trenches, returning to the very gates they found closed against them. And so they lay between the city walls and the enemy trenches, continually crying for help and relief, which was lacking, causing many of them to die daily."
"Howbeit, King Henrie, moved with pitie, upon Christ[Pg 14]masse daie, in the honor of Christes Nativitie, refreshed all the poore people with vittels, to their great comfort and his high praise."
"However, King Henry, filled with compassion, on Christmas Day, in honor of Christ's birth, provided all the poor people with food, bringing them great comfort and earning him much praise."
There are no notable Christ-tides until we come to the reign of Henry VIII. In the second year of his reign he kept Christmas quietly at Richmond, the queen being near her confinement, which event taking place on the first of January, she was sufficiently recovered to look at the festivities on Twelfth day. "Against the twelfe daie, or the daie of the Epiphanie, at night, before the banket in the hall at Richmond, was a pageant devised like a mounteine, and set with stones; on the top of which mounteine was a tree of gold, the branches and boughes frised with gold, spreading on everie side over the mounteine, with roses and pomegranates, the which mounteine was, with vices, brought up towards the king, and out of the same came a ladie apparelled in cloth of gold, and the children of honour called the henchmen, which were freshlie disguised, and danced a morice before the king; and, that done, re-entered the mounteine, which was then drawen backe, and then was the wassail or banket brought in, and so brake up Christmasse."
There aren't any significant Christmas celebrations until the reign of Henry VIII. In his second year on the throne, he spent Christmas quietly in Richmond, with the queen close to giving birth. She actually gave birth on January 1st, and by Twelfth Night, she was well enough to enjoy the festivities. "On Twelfth Night, or the Day of the Epiphany, in the evening before the banquet in the hall at Richmond, a pageant was arranged to look like a mountain, covered in stones; at the top of the mountain stood a golden tree, its branches and boughs decorated with gold, spreading out over the mountain, adorned with roses and pomegranates. The mountain, along with some performers, was brought up to the king, and from it emerged a lady dressed in gold fabric, accompanied by the children of honor known as the henchmen, who were freshly disguised and danced a morris before the king. After that, they went back into the mountain, which was then pulled away, and the wassail or banquet was brought in, marking the end of Christmas."
However the queen was better next year, and "In this yeare the king kept his Christmasse at Greenewich, where was such abundance of viands served to all comers of anie honest behaviour, as hath beene few times seene. And against New Yeeres night was made in the hall a castell, gates, towers, and dungeon, garnished with artillerie and weapon, after the most warlike fashion: and on the front of the castell was written Le forteresse dangereux, and, within the castell were six ladies cloathed in russet sattin, laid all over with leaves of gold, and everie one knit with laces of blew silke and gold. On their heads, coifs and caps all of gold. After this castell had beene caried about the hall, and the queene had beheld it, in came the king with five other, apparelled in coats, the one half of russet sattin, the other halfe of rich cloth of gold; on their heads caps of russet sattin embrodered with works of fine gold bullion.
However, the queen was feeling better the following year, and "This year the king celebrated Christmas at Greenwich, where there was such an abundance of food served to everyone of good character that it has rarely been seen. And for New Year's Eve, they built a castle in the hall, complete with gates, towers, and a dungeon, decorated with artillery and weapons in a very warlike manner: and on the front of the castle was written Le forteresse dangereux, and inside the castle were six ladies dressed in russet satin, covered all over with gold leaves, each tied with laces of blue silk and gold. On their heads, they wore coifs and caps made entirely of gold. After the castle had been paraded around the hall and the queen had seen it, the king entered with five others, dressed in coats that were half russet satin and half rich cloth of gold; on their heads were caps made of russet satin embroidered with patterns of fine gold bullion.
"These six assaulted the castell. The ladies seeing them so lustie and couragious, were content to solace with them, and upon further communication to yeeld the castell, and so[Pg 15] they came downe and dansed a long space. And after, the ladies led the knights into the castell, and then the castell suddenlie vanished out of their sights. On the daie of the Epiphanie at night, the king, with eleven other, were disguised, after the manner of Italie; called a maske, a thing not seene before, in England; they were apparelled in garments long and broad, wrought all with gold, with visors and caps of gold. And, after the banket done, these maskers came in, with six gentlemen disguised in silke, bearing staffe torches, and desired the ladies to danse: some were content, and some refused. And, after they had dansed, and communed togither, as the fashion of the maske is, they tooke their leave and departed, and so did the queene and all the ladies."
"These six attacked the castle. The ladies, seeing them so lively and brave, were happy to spend time with them, and after some conversation, agreed to surrender the castle. So they came down and danced for a long time. Afterwards, the ladies led the knights into the castle, which then suddenly vanished from their sight. On the night of Epiphany, the king, along with eleven others, disguised themselves in the Italian style known as a masquerade, something never seen before in England; they wore long, broad garments all adorned with gold, complete with masks and gold caps. After the banquet, these masked figures entered, accompanied by six gentlemen clad in silk, carrying torch staffs, and invited the ladies to dance. Some agreed, while others declined. After they had danced and chatted together, as is customary in a masquerade, they took their leave and departed, as did the queen and all the ladies."
In 1513, "The king kept a solemne Christmasse at Greenwich, with danses and mummeries in most princelie manner. And on the Twelfe daie at night came into the hall a mount, called the rich mount. The mount was set full of rich flowers of silke, and especiallie full of broome slips full of cods, the branches were greene sattin, and the flowers flat gold of damaske, which signified Plantagenet. On the top stood a goodlie beacon giving light; round about the beacon sat the king and five others, all in cotes and caps of right crimsin velvet, embrodered with flat gold of damaske, their cotes set full of spangles of gold. And foure woodhouses (? wooden horses) drew the mount till it came before the queene, and then the king and his companie descended and dansed. Then, suddenlie, the mount opened, and out came six ladies in crimsin sattin and plunket, embrodered with gold and pearle, with French hoods on their heads, and they dansed alone. Then the lords of the mount tooke the ladies and dansed together; and the ladies re-entered, and the mount closed, and so was conveied out of the hall. Then the king shifted him, and came to the queene, and sat at the banket, which was verie sumptuous."
In 1513, "The king hosted a grand Christmas at Greenwich, with dances and performances in a very royal way. And on Twelfth Night, a mount called the rich mount entered the hall. The mount was covered with luxurious silk flowers, especially filled with broomsticks full of pods, the branches were green satin, and the flowers were flat gold damask, symbolizing Plantagenet. At the top stood a beautiful beacon providing light; around the beacon sat the king and five others, all in crimson velvet coats and caps, embroidered with flat gold damask, their coats decorated with gold spangles. Four wooden horses drew the mount until it reached the queen, and then the king and his companions got down and danced. Suddenly, the mount opened, and six ladies in crimson satin and blue, embroidered with gold and pearls, wearing French hoods on their heads, danced by themselves. Then the lords of the mount took the ladies and danced together; afterward, the ladies re-entered, and the mount closed, and was then taken out of the hall. The king then changed his clothes and came to the queen, sitting at the banquet, which was very lavish."
1514, "This Christmasse, on New Yeares night, the king, the Duke of Suffolke, and two other were in mantels of cloath of silver, lined with blew velvet; the silver was pounced in letters, that the velvet might be seene through; the mantels had great capes like to the Portingall slops, and[Pg 16] all their hosen, dublets, and coats were of the same fashion cut, and of the same stuffe. With them were foure ladies in gowns, after the fashion of Savoie, of blew velvet, lined with cloath of gold, the velvet all cut, and mantels like tipets knit togither all of silver, and on their heads bonets of burned gold: the foure torch-bearers were in sattin white and blew. This strange apparell pleased much everie person, and in especiall the queene. And thus these foure lords and foure ladies came into the queenes chamber with great light of torches, and dansed a great season, and then put off their visors, and were all well knowne, and then the queene hartily thanked the king's grace for her goodlie pastime and desport.
In 1514, "This Christmas, on New Year's Eve, the king, the Duke of Suffolk, and two others were dressed in silver cloaks lined with blue velvet; the silver was patterned with letters so that the velvet could be seen through. The cloaks had large capes similar to those worn by Portuguese men, and all their stockings, doublets, and coats were similarly styled and made from the same fabric. With them were four ladies in gowns, following the fashion of Savoy, made of blue velvet lined with gold cloth, the velvet all cut, and cloaks like scarves knitted together all in silver, with bonnets of burnished gold on their heads. The four torchbearers wore white and blue satin. Everyone was quite taken with this strange attire, especially the queen. Thus, these four lords and four ladies entered the queen's chamber with a great light from the torches, danced for a long time, then removed their masks, and were all recognized. The queen then sincerely thanked the king for providing her with such delightful entertainment."
"Likewise on the Twelve night, the king and the queene came into the hall at Greenewich, and suddenlie entered a tent of cloath of gold; and before the tent stood foure men of armes, armed at all points, with swords in their hands; and, suddenlie, with noise of trumpets entered foure other persons all armed, and ran to the other foure, and there was a great and fierce fight. And, suddenlie, out of a place like a wood, eight wild men, all apparelled in greene mosse, made with sleved silke, with ouglie weapons, and terrible visages, and there fought with the knights eight to eight: and, after long fighting, the armed knights drove the wild men out of their places, and followed the chase out of the hall, and when they were departed, the tent opened, and there came out six lords and six ladies richlie apparelled, and dansed a great time. When they had dansed their pleasure, they entered the tent againe, which was conveied out of the hall: then the king and queene were served with a right sumptuous banket."
"Similarly, on the Twelfth Night, the king and queen entered the hall at Greenwich and suddenly walked into a tent made of gold fabric; before the tent stood four fully armored knights, holding swords. Suddenly, with the sound of trumpets, four more armed figures charged in and went straight for the first four, leading to a loud and fierce battle. Out of a wooded area, eight wild men dressed in green moss and silk, with frightening weapons and terrifying faces, emerged and fought the knights in pairs. After a long struggle, the armored knights managed to drive the wild men away and chased them out of the hall. Once they left, the tent opened, and out came six lords and six ladies elegantly dressed, who danced for a long time. After they finished dancing, they re-entered the tent, which was taken out of the hall, and then the king and queen were served a lavish banquet."
In 1515, "The king kept a solemne Christmasse at his manor of Eltham; and on the Twelfe night, in the hall was made a goodlie castell, wounderously set out: and in it certeine ladies and knights; and when the king and queene were set, in came other knights and assailed the castell, where manie a good stripe was given; and at the last the assailants were beaten awaie. And then issued out knights and ladies out of the castell, which ladies were rich and strangelie disguised; for all their apparell was in braids of gold, fret with moving spangles of silver and gilt, set on crimsin sattin, loose and not[Pg 17] fastned; the men's apparell of the same sute made like Julis of Hungarie, and the ladies heads and bodies were after the fashion of Amsterdam. And when the dansing was done, the banket was served in of five hundred dishes, with great plentie to everie bodie."
In 1515, "The king hosted a grand Christmas at his manor in Eltham; and on Twelfth Night, a beautiful castle was created in the hall, wonderfully decorated. Inside it were certain ladies and knights; and when the king and queen were seated, other knights came in and attacked the castle, resulting in many good blows being exchanged; ultimately, the attackers were driven away. After that, knights and ladies emerged from the castle, with the ladies richly and strangely dressed; their outfits featured braids of gold adorned with shimmering silver and gilt, set on crimson satin, loose and not secured; the men's outfits were of the same style, resembling those of the Julep of Hungary, while the ladies’ heads and bodies were styled after the fashion of Amsterdam. Once the dancing was finished, a banquet was served with five hundred dishes, offering ample feasting for everyone."
In 1517, "the king kept his Christmasse at his manor of Greenwich, and on the Twelfe night, according to the old custome, he and the queene came into the hall; and when they were set, and the queene of Scots also, there entered into the hall a garden artificiall, called the garden of Esperance. This garden was towred at everie corner, and railed with railes gilt; all the banks were set with flowers artificiall of silke and gold, the leaves cut of green sattin, so that they seemed verie flowers. In the midst of this garden was a piller of antique worke, all gold set with pearles and stones, and on the top of the piller, which was six square, was a lover, or an arch embowed, crowned with gold; within which stood a bush of roses red and white, all of silk and gold, and a bush of pomegranats of the like stuffe. In this garden walked six knights, and six ladies richlie apparelled, and then they descended and dansed manie goodlie danses, and so ascended out of the hall, and then the king was served with a great banket."
In 1517, "the king celebrated Christmas at his manor in Greenwich, and on Twelfth Night, following the old custom, he and the queen entered the hall; and once they were seated, along with the queen of Scots, a man-made garden was brought into the hall, called the garden of Esperance. This garden featured towers at every corner and was surrounded by gilded rails; all the banks were adorned with silk and gold artificial flowers, and the leaves were crafted from green satin, making them look like real flowers. In the center of this garden stood an ornate gold pillar embellished with pearls and stones, and on top of this six-sided pillar was a lover, or an arch, crowned with gold; within it was a bush of red and white roses, all made of silk and gold, along with a bush of pomegranates of the same material. In this garden, six knights and six elegantly dressed ladies danced many delightful dances before ascending out of the hall, after which the king was served a lavish banquet."
In 1518 was the fearful plague of the "sweating sickness," and the chronicler says "this maladie was so cruell that it killed some within three houres, some merrie at dinner, and dead at dinner." It even invaded the sanctity of the Court, and the king reduced his entourage, and kept no Christmas that year.
In 1518, there was the terrifying plague known as the "sweating sickness," and the chronicler notes, "this disease was so cruel that it killed some within three hours, some cheerful at dinner, and dead by dinner." It even breached the sanctity of the Court, prompting the king to cut back on his entourage and forgo Christmas that year.
In 1520, "the king kept his Christmas at Greenwich with much noblenesse and open Court. On Twelfe daie his grace and the earle of Devonshire, with foure aids, answered at the tournie all commers, which were sixteene persons. Noble and rich was their apparell, but in feats of armes the king excelled the rest."
In 1520, "the king celebrated Christmas at Greenwich with great grandeur and an open court. On Twelfth Night, he and the Earl of Devonshire, along with four assistants, competed in the tournament against all challengers, who numbered sixteen. Their attire was noble and lavish, but in the feats of arms, the king outshone everyone else."
The next one recorded is that of 1524, when "before the feast of Christmasse, the lord Leonard Graie, and the lord John Graie, brethren to the Marquesse Dorset, Sir George Cobham, sonne to the lord Cobham, William Carie, Sir John Dudleie, Thomas Wiat, Francis Pointz, Francis Sidneie, Sir Anthonie Browne, Sir Edward Seimor, Oliver Manners,[Pg 18] Percivall Hart, Sebastian Nudigate, and Thomas Calen, esquiers of the king's houshold, enterprised a challenge of feats of armes against the feast of Christmas, which was proclaimed by Windsore the herald, and performed at the time appointed after the best manners, both at tilt, tourneie, barriers, and assault of a castell erected for that purpose in the tilt-yard at Greenewich, where the king held a roiall Christmasse that yeare, with great mirth and princelie pastime."
The next one recorded is from 1524, when "before Christmas, Lord Leonard Grey and Lord John Grey, brothers of the Marquis Dorset, Sir George Cobham, son of Lord Cobham, William Cary, Sir John Dudley, Thomas Wyatt, Francis Pointz, Francis Sidney, Sir Anthony Browne, Sir Edward Seymour, Oliver Manners, Percival Hart, Sebastian Nudigate, and Thomas Calen, gentlemen of the king's household, organized a challenge of feats of arms ahead of the Christmas feast. This was announced by Windsor the herald and took place as scheduled in the best manner, at the tilt, tournament, barriers, and assault of a castle set up for that purpose in the tilt-yard at Greenwich, where the king celebrated a royal Christmas that year, with great joy and princely entertainment."
Of the next Christ-tide we are told, "In this winter there was great death in London, so that the terme was adjourned: and the king kept his Christmasse at Eltham, with a small number, and therefore it was called the Still Christmasse."
Of the next Christmas, it was said, "During this winter, there was a significant amount of death in London, so the term was postponed: and the king celebrated his Christmas at Eltham, with only a few people, which is why it was referred to as the Still Christmas."
In 1526, "the king kept a solemne Christmasse at Greenewich with revelles, maskes, disguisings and bankets; and the thirtith daie of December, was an enterprise of iusts made at the tilt by six gentlemen, against all commers, which valiantlie furnished the same, both with speare and sword; and like iustes were kept the third daie of Januarie, where were three hundred speares broken. That same night, the king and manie yoong gentlemen with him, came to Bridewell, and there put him and fifteene other, all in masking apparell, and then tooke his barge and rowed to the cardinal's place, where were at supper a great companie of lords and ladies, and then the maskers dansed, and made goodlie pastime; and when they had well dansed, the ladies plucked awaie their visors, and so they were all knowen, and to the king was made a great banket."
In 1526, "the king had a grand Christmas celebration at Greenwich with revels, masks, disguises, and banquets; and on the thirtieth day of December, there was a jousting event held by six gentlemen, facing all challengers, who bravely participated with spear and sword; similar jousts took place on the third day of January, where three hundred lances were broken. That same night, the king and many young gentlemen with him went to Bridewell, where they put on masks and costumes, then took his barge and rowed to the cardinal's place, where a large group of lords and ladies were having supper. The maskers danced and created a lively atmosphere; after they danced well, the ladies removed their masks, revealing their identities, and a grand banquet was prepared for the king."
This is the last recorded Christ-tide of this reign, and, doubtless, as the king grew older and more sedate, he did not encourage the sports which delighted him in his hot youth.
This is the last recorded Christmas of this reign, and, without a doubt, as the king got older and more serious, he didn’t promote the games that he enjoyed in his fiery youth.
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CHAPTER 3 Historic Christ-tides—Edward VI., 1551—Mary—Elizabeth—James I.—The Puritans—The Pilgrim Fathers—Christmas's Lamentation—Christ-tide in the Navy, 1625. |
Only one is noted in the reign of Edward VI., that of 1551, of which Holinshed writes, "Wherefore, as well to remove fond talke out of men's mouths, as also to recreat and refresh the troubled spirits of the young king; who seemed to take the trouble of his uncle[5] somewhat heavilie; it was devised, that the feast of Christ's nativitie, commonlie called Christmasse, then at hand, should be solemnlie kept at Greenwich, with open houshold and frank resorte to Court (which is called keeping of the hall), what time of old ordinarie course there is alwaies one appointed to make sport in the Court, called commonlie lord of misrule: whose office is not unknowne to such as have beene brought up in noble men's houses, and among great house-keepers, which use liberall feasting in that season. There was, therefore, by orders of the Councell, a wise gentleman, and learned, named George Ferrers, appointed to that office for this yeare; who, being of better credit and estimation than commonlie his predecessors had beene before, received all his commissions and warrants by the name of the maister of the king's pastimes. Which gentleman so well supplied his office, both in shew of sundrie sights and devises of rare inventions, and in act of diverse interludes, and matters of pastime plaied by persons, as not onely satisfied the common sort, but, also, were very well liked[Pg 20] and allowed by the councell, and others of skill in the like pastimes; but, best of all, by the yoong king himselfe, as appeered by his princelie liberalitie in rewarding that service.
Only one event is recorded during the reign of Edward VI, specifically in 1551. Holinshed writes, "To rid people of idle gossip and to uplift the troubled spirits of the young king, who seemed burdened by the issues concerning his uncle[5], it was arranged that the feast of Christ’s nativity, commonly known as Christmas, which was approaching, should be celebrated in a grand manner at Greenwich, with an open household and welcoming atmosphere at Court (which is referred to as keeping of the hall). Traditionally, there is someone appointed to entertain at Court during this time, known as the lord of misrule; this role is familiar to those who have grown up in noble households and among great hosts who practice generous feasting during the season. Consequently, the Council appointed a wise and learned gentleman named George Ferrers to this role for the year, who was held in higher regard than his predecessors. He received all his commissions and directives under the title of the master of the king’s pastimes. This gentleman excelled in his duties, showcasing various performances and inventive displays, along with several plays and entertainments, not only satisfying the general public but also gaining approval from the Council and others skilled in such pastimes. Most importantly, he won the favor of the young king himself, as shown by his princely generosity in rewarding that service. [Pg 20]
"On mondaie, the fourth of Januarie, the said lord of merie disports came by water to London, and landed at the Tower wharffe, where he was received by Vanse, lord of misrule to John Mainard, one of the shiriffes of London, and so conducted through the citie with a great companie of yoong lords and gentlemen to the house of Sir George Barne, lord maior, where he, with the cheefe of his companie dined, and, after, had a great banket: and at his departure the lord maior gave him a standing cup with a cover of silver and guilt, of the value of ten pounds, for a reward, and also set a hogshed of wine, and a barrell of beere at his gate, for his traine that followed him. The residue of his gentlemen and servants dined at other aldermen's houses, and with the shiriffes, and then departed to the tower wharffe againe, and so to the court by water, to the great commendation of the maior and aldermen, and highlie accepted of the king and councell."
"On Monday, January 4th, the lord of merriment arrived in London by boat and landed at the Tower wharf, where he was welcomed by Vanse, the lord of misrule, to John Mainard, one of the sheriffs of London. He was then escorted through the city with a large group of young lords and gentlemen to the home of Sir George Barne, the lord mayor, where he dined with the heads of his company. Afterwards, there was a grand banquet, and upon his departure, the lord mayor presented him with a standing cup with a silver and gilt cover valued at ten pounds as a reward. He also set up a hogshead of wine and a barrel of beer at his gate for his entourage. The rest of his gentlemen and servants dined at other aldermen's houses and with the sheriffs, and then returned to the Tower wharf again, and then to the court by boat, receiving high praise from the mayor and aldermen and greatly appreciated by the king and council."
Mary does not seem to have kept up state Christ-tide except on one occasion, the year after her marriage with Philip, when a masque was performed before her.
Mary doesn't appear to have celebrated Christmas much, except for one time, the year after she married Philip, when a masque was performed for her.
Elizabeth continued the old tradition, but they are only mentioned and known by the Expenses books. It is said that at Christmas 1559 she was displeased with something in the play performed before her, and commanded the players to leave off. There was also a masque for her amusement on Twelfth Night.
Elizabeth followed the old tradition, but they are only mentioned and known by the expense books. It's said that at Christmas 1559, she was unhappy with something in the play performed for her and ordered the actors to stop. There was also a masque for her entertainment on Twelfth Night.
Of James I.'s first Christ-tide in England we have the following in a letter from the Lady Arabella Stuart to the Earl of Shrewsbury, 3rd December 1603:—
Of James I's first Christmas in England, we have the following from a letter written by Lady Arabella Stuart to the Earl of Shrewsbury on December 3, 1603:—
"The Queen intendeth to make a mask this Christmass, to which my lady of Suffolk and my lady Walsingham have warrants to take of the late Queen's apparell out of the Tower at their discretion. Certain gentlemen, whom I may not yet name, have made me of theyr counsell, intend another. Certain gentlemen of good sort another. It is said there shall be 30 playes. The king will feast all the Embassadours this Christmass."[Pg 21]
"The Queen plans to throw a masquerade this Christmas, for which Lady Suffolk and Lady Walsingham have permission to take clothing from the late Queen's wardrobe at their discretion. Some gentlemen, whom I can't name just yet, have given me their advice and plan to host another event. Other respectable gentlemen have plans for yet another. It's said there will be 30 plays. The king will host a feast for all the ambassadors this Christmas." [Pg 21]
The death of the infant Princess Mary in September 1607 did not interfere with James I. keeping Christmas right royally in that year. There were masques and theatricals—nay, the king wanted a play acted on Christmas night—and card-playing went on for high sums, the queen losing £300 on the eve of Twelfth night.
The death of baby Princess Mary in September 1607 didn’t stop James I from celebrating Christmas lavishly that year. There were masques and theater performances—actually, the king wanted a play performed on Christmas night—and card games were played for large amounts, with the queen losing £300 on the eve of Twelfth Night.
It was, probably, the exceeding license of Christ-tide that made the sour Puritans look upon its being kept in remembrance, as vain and superstitious; at all events, whenever in their power, they did their best to crush it. Take, for instance, the first Christmas day after the landing of the so-called "Pilgrim Fathers" at Plymouth Rock in 1620, and read the deliberate chilliness and studied slight of the whole affair, which was evidently more than the ship's master could bear.
It was likely the excessive indulgence of Christmas that caused the strict Puritans to view its celebration as pointless and superstitious; in any case, whenever they had the chance, they did everything they could to put a stop to it. For example, look at the first Christmas Day after the so-called "Pilgrim Fathers" landed at Plymouth Rock in 1620, and notice the intentional coldness and deliberate disregard for the whole celebration, which clearly was more than the ship's captain could tolerate.
"Munday, the 25 Day, we went on shore, some to fell tymber, some to saw, some to riue, and some to carry, so that no man rested all that day, but towards night, some, as they were at worke, heard a noyse of some Indians, which caused vs all to goe to our Muskets, but we heard no further, so we came aboord againe, and left some twentie to keepe the court of gard; that night we had a sore storme of winde and raine. Munday the 25 being Christmas day, we began to drinke water aboord, but at night, the Master caused vs to have some Beere, and so on board we had diverse times now and then some Beere, but on shore none at all."
"On Monday, the 25th, we went ashore—some to cut timber, some to saw, some to split wood, and some to carry. No one rested all day. Towards evening, while working, a few of us heard noises from some Indians, which made us grab our guns, but we didn’t hear anything more, so we went back aboard and left about twenty people to keep watch. That night, we had a strong storm with wind and rain. Monday the 25th, being Christmas Day, we started drinking water on the ship, but at night, the captain had some beer brought to us, so we had beer on board from time to time, but none on shore at all."
That this working on Christmas day was meant as an intentional slight—for these pious gentlemen would not work on the Sunday—is, I think, made patent by the notice by William Bradford, of how they kept the following Christmas.
That working on Christmas Day was meant as a deliberate insult—because these devout gentlemen wouldn’t work on Sunday—is, I believe, clearly shown by William Bradford’s account of how they celebrated the next Christmas.
"One ye day called Christmas-day, ye Gov'r caled them out to worke (as was used), but ye most of this new company excused themselves, and said it went against their consciences to worke on ye day. So ye Gov'r tould them that if they made it a mater of conscience, he would spare them till they were better informed. So he led away ye rest, and left them: but when they came home at noone from their worke, he found them in ye streete at play, openly; some pitching ye barr, and some at stoole ball, and such like sports. So he went to them and tooke away their implements, and told[Pg 22] them it was against his conscience that they should play, and others worke. If they made ye keeping of it matter of devotion, let them kepe their houses, but there should be no gameing or revelling in ye streets. Since which time nothing hath been attempted that way, at least, openly."
"One day called Christmas Day, the Governor called them out to work (as usual), but most of the new group excused themselves and said it went against their consciences to work on that day. So the Governor told them that if they made it a matter of conscience, he would spare them until they were better informed. He led the rest away and left them, but when they returned home at noon from their work, he found them playing in the street, openly; some were pitching the bar, and others were playing stool ball and similar sports. He went to them, took away their equipment, and told them it was against his conscience that they should play while others worked. If they made the observance a matter of devotion, let them stay in their homes, but there should be no gaming or reveling in the streets. Since that time, nothing has been attempted in that way, at least not openly."
But we shall hear more of the Puritans and Christ-tide, only my scheme is to treat the season chronologically, and, consequently, there must be a slight digression; and the following ballad, which must have been published in the time of James I., because of the allusion to yellow starch (Mrs. Turner having been executed for the poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury in 1615), gives us
But we'll hear more about the Puritans and Christmas later; my plan is to discuss the season in chronological order, so there will be a slight digression. The following ballad, which must have been published during the reign of James I. because it refers to yellow starch (Mrs. Turner was executed for poisoning Sir Thomas Overbury in 1615), gives us
Christmas's Lamentation
Christmas's Lament
Christmas is my name, far have I gone, Without concern; without concern. Whereas great men by flocks there be flown, To London—toward London. There they in pomp and pleasure do waste That which Old Christmas was wonted to feast, Well, what a day! Houses where music was wont for to ring, Nothing but bats and owlets do sing. Well, what a day! What a day! Wow, where should I stay? Christmas beef and bread is turn'd into stones, Into stones and silk rags; And Lady Money sleeps and makes moans, And makes sounds in the bags of the stingy; Houses where pleasures once did abound, Nought but a dog and a shepherd is found, What a day! Places where Christmas revels did keep, Now are become habitations for sheep. Well, what a day, what a day, Well, what a day! Where should I stay? Pan, the shepherds' god, doth deface, Destroys Lady Ceres' crown, And the tillage doth go to decay, [Pg 23]To rot in every town; Landlords their rents so highly enhance, That Pierce, the ploughman, barefoot may dance; Wow, what a day! Farmers that Christmas would still entertain, Scarce have wherewith themselves to maintain, Well, a day, etc. Come to the countryman, he will protest, Will protest and brag about bull beef; And, for the citizen, he is so hot, It's so hot, he'll ruin the roast. The courtier, sure good deeds will not scorn, Nor will he see poor Christmas forlorn? What a day! Since none of these good deeds will do, Christmas had best turn courtier too, Well, a day, etc. Pride and luxury they do devour, Do housekeeping well; And soon beggary they do beget, Please father many knights. Madam, forsooth, in her coach must wheel Although she wear her hose out at heel, What a day! And on her back wear that for a weed, Which me and all my fellows would feed. Well, what a day! Since pride came up with the yellow starch, People want yellow starch. And nothing the rich men will to them give, Give to them, but don't mock them; For Charity from the country is fled, And in her place hath nought left but need; Wow, what a day! And corn is grown to so high a price, It makes poor men cry with weeping eyes. Well, a day, etc. Briefly for to end, here do I find, I truly find such a great calling, That most great houses seem to attain, To achieve a thorough cleansing; Where purging pills such effects they have shew'd, That forth of doors they their owners have spued; [Pg 24]Wow, what a day! And where'er Christmas comes by, and calls, Nought now but solitary and naked walls. Well, a day, etc. Philemon's cottage was turn'd into gold, Into gold, for hosting Jove: Rich men their houses up for to keep, To maintain, might their greatness influence; But, in the city, they say, they do live, Where gold by handfulls away they do give;— I'll be away, And thither, therefore, I purpose to pass, Hoping at London to find the Golden Ass. I'm leaving, I'm leaving, I'm leaving because there's nothing to stay for. |
A little light upon this ballad may possibly be found in a letter from John Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton (21st December 1627):—"Divers lords and personages of quality have made means to be dispensed withall for going into the Country this Christmas according to the proclamation; but it will not be granted, so that they pack away on all sides for fear of the worst."
A bit of insight into this ballad can be gathered from a letter from John Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton (December 21, 1627):—"Several lords and prominent figures have tried to get permission to go into the countryside this Christmas as per the proclamation; but it won’t be allowed, so they’re escaping in every direction to avoid the worst."
As we are now getting near the attempted suppression of Christmas under the Puritan régime, it may be as well to notice the extreme licence to which the season's holiday and festivities had reached—and perhaps a more flagrant case than the following can scarcely be given. On 13th January 1626 the Commissioners of the Navy write to the Duke of Buckingham that they have received information from persons who have been on board the Happy Entrance in the Downs, and the Nonsuch and Garland at Gore-end, that for these Christmas holidays, the captains, masters, boatswains, gunners, and carpenters, were not aboard their ships, nor gave any attendance to the service, leaving the ships a prey to any who might have assaulted them. The Commissioners sent down clothes for the sailors, and there were no officers to take charge of them, and the pressed men ran away as fast as the Commissioners sent them down. If they had beaten up and down, they might have prevented the loss of two English ships taken by the Dunkirkers off Yarmouth.[Pg 25]
As we approach the attempted suppression of Christmas under the Puritan regime, it’s worth noting just how extreme the indulgence during the holiday season had become—and perhaps a more shocking example than the following can hardly be found. On January 13, 1626, the Commissioners of the Navy wrote to the Duke of Buckingham that they had received information from people who had been on board the Happy Entrance in the Downs, as well as the Nonsuch and Garland at Gore-end, that during this Christmas holiday, the captains, officers, boatswains, gunners, and carpenters were not on board their ships, nor did they attend to their duties, leaving the ships vulnerable to any potential attackers. The Commissioners sent clothing for the sailors, but there were no officers to supervise the distribution, and the conscripted men fled as quickly as the Commissioners sent them down. If they had mobilized effectively, they might have prevented the loss of two English ships captured by the Dunkirkers off Yarmouth.[Pg 25]
This, naturally, was a state of things which could not be allowed, and on January 15 the Duke of Buckingham wrote to Sir Henry Palmer as to the officers and men quitting their ships at Christmas time, and called upon him "presently to repair on board his own ship, and to charge the officers of all the ships composing his fleet, not to depart from their ships without order."
This, of course, was a situation that couldn't be tolerated, and on January 15, the Duke of Buckingham wrote to Sir Henry Palmer about the officers and crew leaving their ships during Christmas. He urged him "to go back onboard his own ship immediately and instruct the officers of all the ships in his fleet not to leave their vessels without permission."
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CHAPTER 4 Attempts of Puritans to put down Christ-tide—Attitude of the people—Preaching before Parliament—"The Arraignment, etc., of Christmas." |
As soon as the Puritans became at all powerful, their iconoclastic zeal naturally attacked Christmas, and the Scotchmen, such as Baillie, Rutherford, Gillespie, and Henderson, in the Westminster Assembly of Divines, tried in 1643 to get the English observance of Christmas abolished—but they only succeeded so far as coming to a resolution that whilst preaching on that day, "withal to cry down the superstition of that day." Next year they were happier in their efforts, as is shortly told in Parliamentary History, December 19, 1644. "The lords and commons having long since appointed a day for a Fast and Humiliation, which was to be on the last Wednesday in every Month, it happening to fall on Christmas day this month, the Assembly of Divine sent to acquaint the lords with it: and, to avoid any inconveniences that might be by some people keeping it as a Feast, and others as a Fast, they desired that the Parliament would publish a Declaration the next Lord's day in the Churches of London and Westminster; that that day might be kept as it ought to be, that the whole kingdom might have comfort thereby. The houses agreed to this proposal, and directed the following Ordinance to be published; which bore this title—
As soon as the Puritans gained significant power, their strong opposition targeted Christmas. Scottish figures like Baillie, Rutherford, Gillespie, and Henderson, who were part of the Westminster Assembly of Divines, attempted in 1643 to eliminate the English celebration of Christmas. They only managed to pass a resolution stating that while preaching on that day, they would also denounce the holiday's superstitions. The following year, their efforts proved more successful, as noted in Parliamentary History, December 19, 1644. "The lords and commons had previously designated a day for a Fast and Humiliation, which was to occur on the last Wednesday of each month. This month, it coincidentally fell on Christmas Day. The Assembly of Divine informed the lords about this, and to prevent confusion caused by some people celebrating it as a feast while others observed it as a fast, they requested that Parliament issue a Declaration the following Sunday in the churches of London and Westminster, so that the day could be observed properly, providing comfort to the entire kingdom. Both houses agreed to this suggestion and ordered the publication of the following Ordinance, which had this title—
"An Ordinance for the better observation of the Feast of the Nativity of Christ.
"An Ordinance for better celebrating the Feast of Christ's Birth."
"Whereas some doubts have been raised whether the[Pg 27] next Fast shall be celebrated, because it falleth on the day which, heretofore, was usually called the Feast of the Nativity of our Saviour; the lords and commons do order and ordain that public notice be given, that the Fast appointed to be kept on the last Wednesday in every month, ought to be observed until it be otherwise ordered by both houses; and that this day particularly is to be kept with the more solemn humiliation, because it may call to remembrance our sins and the sins of our forefathers, who have turned this Feast, pretending the memory of Christ, into an extreme forgetfulness of him, by giving liberty to carnal and sensual delights; being contrary to the life which Christ himself led here upon earth, and to the spiritual life of Christ in our souls; for the sanctifying and saving whereof Christ was pleased both to take a human life, and to lay it down again.
"Some doubts have been raised about whether the [Pg 27] next Fast should be celebrated since it falls on the day that was traditionally known as the Feast of the Nativity of our Savior. The lords and commons have decided that public notice should be given that the Fast, scheduled for the last Wednesday of every month, should be observed until both houses decide otherwise. This particular day should be observed with greater solemnity and humility, as it reminds us of our sins and the sins of our ancestors, who turned this Feast—meant to honor Christ—into a complete forgetfulness of him, indulging instead in worldly pleasures. This is in direct contrast to the life Christ led on earth and the spiritual life of Christ within us, for which he chose to take on human form and ultimately sacrificed himself."
"The lords ordered That the Lord Mayor of London take care that this Ordinance should be dispersed to all churches and chapels, within the line of communication and the bills of mortality. Afterwards it was made general through the kingdom; in consequence of which Christmas day was no longer observed as a Festival, by law, till the Restoration."
"The lords ordered that the Lord Mayor of London ensure this Ordinance is distributed to all churches and chapels within the communication lines and the mortality bills. Later, it was made general throughout the kingdom; as a result, Christmas Day was no longer recognized as a festival by law until the Restoration."
But the popular love of Christmas could not be done away with by restrictive legislation, as the movers therein very well knew, teste Lightfoot, who, in his Journal, says "Some of our members were sent to the houses to desire them to give an order that the next Fast day might be solemnly kept, because the people will be ready to neglect it, being Christmas day."
But the widespread affection for Christmas couldn’t be erased by strict laws, as those behind them were fully aware, teste Lightfoot, who, in his Journal, states, "Some of our members were sent to the homes to ask them to issue an order that the next Fast day should be observed seriously, because people are likely to ignore it, since it's Christmas day."
Nor was anything neglected to repress this Christ-tide, because its keeping was inbred in the people, and they hated this sour puritanical feeling, and the doing away with their accustomed festivities. Richard Kentish told the House of Commons so in very plain language. Said he: "The people of England do hate to be reformed; so now, a prelatical priest, with a superstitious service book, is more desired, and would be better welcome to the generality of England, than the most learned, laborious, conscientious preacher, whether Presbyterian or Independent.[Pg 28] These poor simple creatures are mad after superstitious festivals, after unholy holidays."
Nothing was left out to suppress this Christmas season because it was deeply rooted in the people, and they despised this gloomy, puritanical attitude and the elimination of their traditional celebrations. Richard Kentish told the House of Commons this in straightforward terms. He said: "The people of England do not like being reformed; so now, a high-church priest with a superstitious prayer book is more favored and would be more welcomed by most of England than the most knowledgeable, hard-working, conscientious preacher, whether Presbyterian or Independent.[Pg 28] These poor, simple folks are crazy for superstitious festivals and unrighteous holidays."
The houses of Parliament baked their pie for themselves, and deservedly had to eat it; for two red hot gospellers, Calamy and Sedgewick, preached on the iniquity of keeping Christ-tide to the Lords in Westminster Abbey; whilst in the contiguous Church of S. Margaret, Thorowgood and Langley expatiated on the same theme to the Commons, and, as if they could not have enough of so good a thing, all four sermons were printed by order of the Houses.
The Houses of Parliament made their own trouble and rightfully had to deal with it; because two passionate preachers, Calamy and Sedgewick, spoke about the wrongness of celebrating Christmas to the Lords in Westminster Abbey; meanwhile, in the nearby Church of St. Margaret, Thorowgood and Langley elaborated on the same subject to the Commons, and, as if they couldn’t get enough of such a great topic, all four sermons were published by order of the Houses.
Calamy in his sermon said, "This day is the day which is commonly called the Feast of Christ's Nativity, or Christmas Day, a day that hath hitherto been much abused in superstition and profaneness. I have known some that have preferred Christmas Day before the Lord's Day, and have cried down the Lord's Day and cried up Christmas Day. I have known those that would be sure to receive the Sacrament on Christmas Day though they did not receive it all the year after. This was the superstition of this day, and the profaneness was as great. There were some that did not play cards all the year long, yet they must play at Christmas. This year, God, by a providence hath buried this Feast in a Fast, and I hope it will never rise again. You have set out, Right Honourable, a strict Order for the keeping of it, and you are here to-day to observe your own Order, and I hope you will do it strictly." And he finished with a prayer, in which he begged they might have grace "to be humbled, especially for the old superstition and profaneness of this Feast."
Calamy in his sermon said, "Today is what we commonly call Christmas Day, a day that has often been misused with superstition and irreverence. I've seen some people who valued Christmas Day more than the Lord's Day, downplaying the Lord's Day while elevating Christmas Day. I've known people who insisted on taking the Sacrament on Christmas Day even if they didn't do so the rest of the year. This was the superstition surrounding this day, and the irreverence was equally significant. There were those who wouldn’t play cards at all during the year, yet felt the need to play during Christmas. This year, God, through providence, has overshadowed this Feast with a Fast, and I hope it will never return. You have issued, Right Honourable, a strict order for observing it, and you are here today to uphold your own order, and I hope you will do so diligently." And he concluded with a prayer, asking for grace "to be humbled, especially for the old superstition and irreverence of this Feast."
But although the English people were crushed for a time under the iron heel of the Puritan boot, they had no sympathy with their masters, nor their ways—vide the rebound, immediately after Oliver Cromwell's death, and the return to the old state of things, which has never altered since, except as a matter of fashion. Yet, even then, there were protests against this effacement of Christ-tide, and many have been handed down to us, differing naturally very much in style. One really amusing one has the merit of being short: and when the reader of this book has perused it, I believe he will thank me for having reproduced it. It is[Pg 29]—
But even though the English people were temporarily oppressed by the strict rule of the Puritans, they didn’t share any sympathy for their rulers or their ways—see the backlash right after Oliver Cromwell's death, leading to a return to the old ways, which have largely remained unchanged since, aside from some shifts in fashion. Still, at that time, there were objections against the loss of Christmas, and many have been passed down to us, varying widely in style. One particularly funny one is short and worth sharing: after reading it, I believe the reader will appreciate that I included it. It is[Pg 29]—
"the
the
ARRAIGNMENT
Arraignment
Conviction and Imprisonment
Conviction and Incarceration
of
of
CHRISTMAS
XMAS
On S. Thomas Day last,
On S. Thomas Day last,
And
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.
How he escaped from prison during the holidays and got away, only leaving his gray hair and beard stuck between two iron bars of a window.
With
With
An Hue and Cry after Christmas, and a Letter from Mr. Woodcock, a Fellow in Oxford, to a Malignant Lady in London.
An Hue and Cry after Holidays, and a Letter from Mr. Woodcock, a Fellow at Oxford, to a Malignant Lady in London.
And divers passages 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.
And several interactions between the Lady and the Crier about Old Christmas: And what efforts he had to make to save his life, and the big fuss to bring him back again.
With divers other Witty Passages.
With various other clever quotes.
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 Mustard-Alley, in Brawn Street. 1645."
Printed by Simon Minc'd Pye, for Cissely Plum-Porridge; and are to be sold by Ralph Fidler, Chandler, at the sign of the Pack of Cards in Mustard-Alley, in Brawn Street. 1645."
This little Tract commenced with the supposed Letter,
This short pamphlet started with the imagined letter,
"Lady,
"Ma'am,"
"I Beseech you, for the love of Oxford, hire a Cryer (I will see him paid for his paines), to cry old father Christmas, and keep him with you (if you can meet with him, and stay him), till we come to London, for we expect to be there shortly, and then we will have all things as they were wont, I warrant you; hold up your spirits, and let not your old friends be lost out of your favour, for his sake, who is
I urge you, for the love of Oxford, hire a town crier (I’ll make sure he gets paid for his trouble), to announce old father Christmas and keep him with you (if you can find him and hold onto him), until we arrive in London, as we expect to be there soon. Then we’ll have everything just as it was, I promise you; lift your spirits, and don’t let your old friends fall out of your favor, for his sake, who is
"Your ever servant,
"Your devoted servant,"
"Jo. Woodcock.
"Lady—Honest Crier, I know thou knewest old Father Christmas; I am sent to thee from an honest schollar of Oxford (that hath given me many a hug and kisse in Christmasse time when we have been merry) to cry Christmas, for they hear that he is gone from hence, and that we have lost the poor old man; you know what marks he hath, and how to cry him.
"Lady—Honest Crier, I know you knew old Father Christmas; I’ve been sent to you from an honest scholar from Oxford (who has given me many hugs and kisses during Christmas time when we've been celebrating) to announce Christmas, because they've heard that he’s gone from here, and we’ve lost the poor old man; you know what signs he has, and how to announce him."
"Cryer—Who shall pay me for my paines?
"Cryer—Who is going to compensate me for my troubles?"
"Lady—Your old friend, Mr. Woodcock, of Oxford. Wilt thou take his word?
Lady—Your old friend, Mr. Woodcock, from Oxford. Will you trust his word?
"Cryer—I will cry him, I warrant you, through the Citie and Countrie, and it shall go hard but I will finde him out; I can partly ghesse who can tell some newes of him, if any people in England can, for I am acquainted with all his familiar friends. Trust me in this businesse, I will bring you word within fewe dayes.
"Cryer—I’ll shout about him, I promise you, throughout the City and country, and it won’t be easy, but I’ll find him; I can somewhat guess who might have some news about him, if anyone in England does, because I know all his close friends. Trust me on this, I’ll get back to you in a few days."
Ho-o-o-o-o-o-o yes, ho-o-o-o-o-o yes, ho-o-o-o-o-o yes;
Oh yessssss, oh yessssss, oh yessssss;
Any man or woman, whether Popish or Prelaticall, Superstitious or Judaicall, or what person so ever, of any Tribe or Trullibub,[6] that can give any knowledge, or tell any tidings of an old, old, old, very old, grey-bearded Gentleman, called[Pg 31] Christmas, who was wont to be a verie familiar ghest, and visite all sorts of people, both poor and rich, and used to appear in glittering gold silk and silver in the Court, and in all shapes in the Theater in Whitehall, and had ringing feasts and jollitie in all places, both in the Citie and Countrie for his comming; if you went to the Temple, you might have found him there at In and In, till many a Gentleman had outed all the mony from his pocket, and after all, the Butlers found him locked up in their Boxes: And in almost every house, you might have found him at Cards and Dice, the very boyes and children could have traced him and the Beggers have followed him from place to place, and seen him walking up and downe, and in every house roast Beefe and Mutton, Pies and Plum-porrige, and all manner of delicates round about him, and every one saluting merry Christmas: If you had gone to the Queene's Chappel, you might have found him standing against the wall, and the Papists weeping, and beating themselves before him, and kissing his hoary head with superstitious teares, in a theater exceeding all the plays of the Bull, the Fortune, and the Cock-pit.
Any man or woman, whether Catholic or Protestant, superstitious or Jewish, or anyone at all, from any tribe, who can share any information or news about an old, very old, gray-bearded gentleman named Christmas, who used to be a familiar guest and visit all kinds of people, both poor and rich, and appeared in sparkling gold silk and silver in the court, and in all forms in the theater at Whitehall, and held festive feasts and celebrations everywhere, both in the city and the countryside; if you went to the Temple, you might have found him there enjoying himself until many a gentleman had spent all the money from his pocket, and after all, the butlers found him locked away in their boxes. In almost every house, you could find him playing cards and dice; even the boys and children could track him down, and the beggars followed him from place to place, seeing him walk around, and in every house, there was roast beef and mutton, pies and plum porridge, and all kinds of delicacies surrounding him, with everyone greeting merry Christmas. If you had gone to the Queen's chapel, you might have found him standing against the wall, while Catholics wept, striking themselves in front of him, and kissing his gray head with superstitious tears, in a spectacle surpassing all the plays at the Bull, the Fortune, and the Cockpit.
"For age, this hoarie headed man was of great yeares, and as white as snow; he entred the Romish Kallender time out of mind; is old, 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 dumb Docter of them all. He looked under the consecrated Laune sleeves as big as Bul-beefe—just like Bacchus upon 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; but the wanton women that are so mad after him, do not know how he is metamorphised, so that he is not now like himselfe, but rather like Jack-a-lent.
"For his age, this gray-haired man was very old, as white as snow; he had been around since ancient times; old, or very close to being as old as Father Methuselah; he looked spry in the Bishop's days, but their downfall made him wither away ever since; he was as full and stout as any of those puffed-up doctors. He looked under the consecrated sleeves as big as a roast beef—just like Bacchus on a barrel of wine, with grapes shaking around his ears; but since the Catholic drink has been taken from him, he has slimmed down considerably, looking very thin and sickly lately; however, the eager women who are so crazy about him don't realize how much he has changed, so he no longer resembles himself, but rather looks like a scarecrow."
"But yet some other markes that you may know him by, is that the wanton Women dote after him; he helped them to so many new Gownes, Hatts, and Hankerches, and other fine knacks, of which he hath a pack on his back, in which is good store of all sorts, besides the fine knacks that he got out of their husbands' pockets for household provisions for him. He got Prentises, Servants, and Schollars many play dayes, and[Pg 32] therefore was well beloved by them also, and made all merry with Bagpipes, Fiddles, and other musicks, Giggs, Dances, and Mummings, yea, the young people had more merry dayes and houres before him whilst he stayd, which was in some houses 12 dayes, in some 20, in some more, in some lesse, than in all the yeare againe."
"But there are some other signs that you can recognize him by: the flirtatious women are infatuated with him; he helped them get so many new dresses, hats, and handkerchiefs, along with other fancy items, which he carries in a pack on his back, full of all sorts of things. Plus, he took nice items out of their husbands' pockets to stock up on household provisions for himself. He also got apprentices, servants, and scholars plenty of time off for fun, and[Pg 32] that’s why he was well-liked by them too. He made everyone happy with bagpipes, fiddles, and other music, games, dances, and performances. The young people enjoyed more fun days and hours in his presence than they did all year round, whether he stayed for 12 days in some houses, 20 in others, or sometimes even longer or shorter."
"All you, therefore, that by your diligent inquirie, can tell me anie tidings of this ould man called Christmas, and tell me where he may be met withall; whether in any of your streets, or elsewhere, though in never so straitned a place; in an Applewoman's staul or Grocer's Curren Tub, in a Cooke's Oven or the Maide's Porrige pot, or crept into some corner of a Translater's shop, where the Cobler was wont so merrily to chant his Carolls; whosoever can tel what is become of him, or where he may be found, let them bring him back againe into England, to the Crier, and they shall have a Benediction from the Pope, an hundred oaths from the Cavaliers, 40 kisses from the Wanton Wenches, and be made Pursevant to the next Arch Bishop. Malignants will send him a piece of Braune, and everie Prentice boy will give him his point (? pint of wine) next holie Thursday, the good Wives will keepe him in some corners of their mince pies, and the new Nuncio Ireland will returne him to be canonized the next Reformation of the Calender.
"All of you, therefore, who can diligently inquire and tell me any news about this old man called Christmas, and let me know where he can be found—whether in any of your streets or elsewhere, no matter how cramped the space might be; in an apple seller's stall or a grocer's currant tub, in a cook's oven or a maid's porridge pot, or tucked away in some corner of a translator’s shop, where the cobbler used to merrily sing his carols—whoever can tell what has become of him, or where he might be found, let them bring him back to England, to the crier, and they will receive a blessing from the Pope, a hundred oaths from the Cavaliers, 40 kisses from the flirtatious wenches, and be made pursuivant to the next archbishop. Malignants will send him a piece of pork, and every apprentice boy will give him his pint of wine next holy Thursday, the good wives will keep him in some corners of their mince pies, and the new nuncio to Ireland will return him to be canonized at the next reformation of the calendar."
"And so Pope save Christmas.
And so Pope saves Christmas.
"Cryer—Lady, I am come to tell you what returne I can make you of the crying of old Father Christmas, which I have done, and am now here to give you an answer.
"Cryer—Lady, I'm here to tell you what response I can give you regarding the weeping of old Father Christmas, which I've done, and I'm now here to provide you with an answer."
"Lady—Well said, honest Cryer, Mr. Woodcock will remember you for it.
"Lady—Well said, honest Cryer, Mr. Woodcock will appreciate that."
"Cryer—The poor old man upon St. Thomas his day was arraigned, condemned, and after conviction cast into prison amongst the King's Souldiers; fearing to be hanged, or some other execution to be done upon him, and got out at so narrow a passage, between two Iron Bars of a Window, that nothing but onely his old gray beard and hoarie haire of his head stuck there, but nothing else to be seen of him; and, if you will have that, compound for it, lest it be sold among the[Pg 33] sequestred goods, or burnt with the next Popish pictures, by the hand of the hangman.
"Cryer—The poor old man on St. Thomas's day was put on trial, found guilty, and thrown into prison among the King's soldiers; fearing he might be hanged or face another punishment. He managed to escape through a narrow gap between two iron bars of a window, leaving only his old gray beard and white hair stuck there, with nothing else of him visible. And if you want that, negotiate for it, or it might be sold among the[Pg 33]seized goods, or burned along with the next Popish images, by the executioner's hand."
"Lady—But is old, old, good old Christmas gone? Nothing but the hair of his good, grave old head and beard left! Well I will have that, seeing I cannot have more of him, one lock whereof will serve Mr. Woodcock for a token. But what is the event of his departure?
"Lady—But is the old Christmas really gone? All that's left is the hair from his wise old head and beard! Well, I'll take that since I can’t have him anymore; one lock will be a token for Mr. Woodcock. But what happened after he left?"
"Cryer—The poor are sory for it, 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, begone, here is not for you); and so they, instead of going to the Ale-house to be drunk, were fain to work all the Holidayes. The Schollers came into the Hall, where their hungry stomacks had thought to have found good Brawn and Christmas pies, Roast Beef and Plum-porridge; but no such matter. Away, ye prophane, these are superstitious meats; your stomacks must be fed with wholesome doctrine. Alas, poor tallow-faced Chandlers, I met them mourning through the streets, and complaining that they could get no vent for their Mustard, for want of Brawn.
"Cryer—The poor feel sorry about it because they go begging at every door like they used to (Good Mrs., somewhat against this good Time); but Time has changed (Away, begone, here is not for you); and so instead of heading to the pub to get drunk, they had to work all the holidays. The students came into the hall, where their hungry stomachs had expected to find good brawn and Christmas pies, roast beef, and plum porridge; but that wasn’t the case. Away, you unholy ones, these are superstitious foods; your stomachs must be filled with wholesome teachings. Oh, poor tallow-faced chandlers, I saw them mourning in the streets, complaining that they couldn’t sell their mustard because there was no brawn."
"Lady—Well, if ever the Catholiques or Bishops rule again in England, they will set the Church dores open on Christmas day, and we shall have Masse at the High Altar, as was used when the day was first instituted, and not have the holy Eucharist barred out of School, as School boyes do their Masters against the festival![7] What! shall we have our mouths shut to welcome old Christmas? No, no, bid him come by night over the Thames, and we will have a back door open to let him in. I will, myself, give him his diet for one year, to try his fortune this time twelve month, it may prove better."
"Lady—Well, if the Catholics or Bishops ever take control again in England, they will open the church doors on Christmas day, and we will have Mass at the High Altar, just like when the day was first celebrated, and not keep the holy Eucharist out of School, just like schoolboys do to their teachers during the holiday![7] What! Are we going to stay silent to welcome old Christmas? No, no, let him come at night over the Thames, and we'll have a back door open to let him in. I will personally provide for him for a year to see if his fortune turns out better this time next year."
And this was the general feeling. Parliament might sit, as we learn by The Kingdome's Weekly Intelligencer, No. 152: "Thursday, December 25, vulgarly known by the name of Christmas Day, both Houses sate. The House of Commons, more especially, debated some things in reference to the privileges of that House, and made some orders therein." But the mass of the people quietly protested against this way of ignoring Christ-tide, and notwithstanding the Assembly of Divines and Parliament, no shops were open in London on that day, in spite of the article published in No. 135 of Mercurius Civicus, or London's Intelligencer, which explained the absurdity of keeping Christmas day, and ordained that all shops should be opened, and that the shopkeepers should see that their apprentices were at work on that day. If they needed a holiday, "let them keep the fift of November, and other dayes of that nature, or the late great mercy of God in the taking of Hereford, which deserves an especiall day of thanks giving." It would not so much have mattered if all the Puritans had followed the example of George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, who, "when the time called Christmas came, when others were feasting and sporting themselves, went from house to house seeking out the poor and desolate, and giving them money."
And this was the general feeling. Parliament might meet, as reported by The Kingdome's Weekly Intelligencer, No. 152: "Thursday, December 25, commonly known as Christmas Day, both Houses met. The House of Commons, in particular, discussed some issues regarding the privileges of that House and made some decisions about it." However, the majority of the people quietly protested against this way of disregarding Christmas, and despite the Assembly of Divines and Parliament, no shops were open in London on that day, even after the article published in No. 135 of Mercurius Civicus, or London's Intelligencer, which explained the absurdity of celebrating Christmas and ordered that all shops should be opened, and that shopkeepers should ensure their apprentices were working that day. If they needed a holiday, "let them observe the Fifth of November, and other days of that kind, or the recent great mercy of God in the taking of Hereford, which deserves a special day of thanksgiving." It wouldn't have been as significant if all the Puritans had followed the example of George Fox, the founder of Quakerism, who, "when Christmas time came and others were feasting and enjoying themselves, went from house to house seeking out the poor and desolate, and giving them money."
Parliament, although they did their best by public example to do away with it, sitting every Christmas day from 1644 to[Pg 35] 1656, could not extinguish the deep-rooted feeling in favour of its being kept up in the old-fashioned way, and, in London, at Christmas 1646, those who opened their shops were very roughly used, so much so that in 1647 they asked the Parliament to protect them in future. Certainly, in that year, the shops were all closed, but the irrepressible love of Christmas could not be controlled, and the porters of Cornhill bedecked the conduit with "Ivy, Rosmary, and Bays," and similar decorations were exhibited in other parts of the City—a proceeding which sorely exercised the Lord Mayor and the City Marshal, who rode about, with their followings, setting fire to the harmless green stuff—the doing of which occasioned great mirth among the Royalist party.
Parliament, despite their best efforts to set an example by abolishing it, meeting every Christmas Day from 1644 to[Pg 35] 1656, couldn't erase the strong desire to celebrate it in the traditional way. In London, during Christmas 1646, shopkeepers who opened their stores faced harsh treatment, so much so that in 1647 they requested Parliament to protect them moving forward. That year, all the shops were closed, but the unstoppable spirit of Christmas persisted. The porters of Cornhill adorned the fountain with "Ivy, Rosemary, and Bays," and similar decorations appeared throughout the City. This upset the Lord Mayor and the City Marshal, who patrolled the area with their entourages, setting fire to the innocent greenery—a move that greatly amused the Royalist crowd.
There were riots about the keeping of Christmas in several parts of the country—notably one at Ealing, in Middlesex; but there was a famous one at Canterbury,[8] the particulars of which are given in a short tract, which I here reprint, as it shows the feeling in the country:
There were riots over the celebration of Christmas in several areas of the country—especially one in Ealing, Middlesex; but there was a notable one in Canterbury,[8] the details of which are provided in a short pamphlet that I am reprinting here, as it reflects the sentiment in the country:
"Upon Wednesday, Decem. 22, the Cryer of Canterbury by the appointment of Master Major,[9] openly proclaimed that Christmas day, and all other Superstitious Festivals should be put downe, and that a Market should be kept upon Christmas day.
"On Wednesday, Dec. 22, the Town Crier of Canterbury, by the order of Master Major,[9] publicly announced that Christmas Day and all other Superstitious Festivals should be cancelled, and that a market should be held on Christmas Day.
"Which not being observed (but very ill taken by the Country) the towne was thereby unserved with provision, and trading very much hindered; which occasioned great discontent among the people, caused them to rise in a Rebellious way.
"Since this was not taken into account (and was viewed very poorly by the locals), the town was left without supplies, and trade was severely impacted, leading to significant discontent among the people and causing them to rise up rebelliously."
"The Major being slighted, and his Commands observed only of a few who opened their Shops, to the number of 12 at the most: They were commanded by the multitude to shut up again, but refusing to obey, their ware was thrown up and down, and they, at last, forced to shut in.
The Major being ignored, and his orders followed by only a handful of people who opened their shops, no more than 12 at most: They were instructed by the crowd to close again, but they refused to comply. Their goods were tossed around, and eventually, they were forced to close up.
"The Major and his assistants used their best endeavours to qualifie this tumult, but the fire being once kindled, was not easily quenched.
The Major and his assistants did their best to calm the chaos, but once the fire was lit, it wasn't easy to put out.
"The Sheriffe laying hold of a fellow, was stoutly resisted; which the Major perceiving, took a Cudgell, and strook the[Pg 36] man: who, being now puny, pulled up his courage, and knockt down the Major, whereby his Cloak was much torne and durty, besides the hurt he received.
"The Sheriffe grabbed a guy, who fought back fiercely; noticing this, the Major picked up a club and hit the[Pg 36] man. This made the man weaker, but he found his courage and knocked the Major down, which led to his cloak being torn and dirty, not to mention the injury he sustained."
"The Major hereupon made strict Proclamation for keeping the Peace, and that every man depart to his own house.
"The Major then issued a strict announcement to maintain peace and ordered everyone to return to their homes."
"The multitude hollowing thereat, in disorderly manner; the Aldermen and Constables caught two or three of the rout, and sent them to the Jaile, but they soon broke loose, and Jeered Master Alderman.
"The crowd was making a scene, and the Aldermen and Constables managed to grab a couple of the troublemakers and sent them to jail, but they quickly broke free and mocked Master Alderman.
"Soone after, issued forth the Commanders of this Rabble, with an addition of Souldiers, into the high street, and brought with them two Foot-balls, whereby their company increased. Which the Major and Aldermen perceiving, took what prisoners they had got, and would have carried them to the Jayle. But the multitude following after to the King's Bench, were opposed by Captain Bridg, who was straight knoct down, and had his head broke in two places, not being able to withstand the multitude, who, getting betwixt him and the Jayle, rescued their fellowes, and beat the Major and Aldermen into their houses, and then cried Conquest.
Soon after, the leaders of this mob came out into the main street with extra soldiers and brought along two footballs, which made their group larger. The Mayor and Aldermen noticed this, took the prisoners they had captured, and tried to take them to jail. But the crowd following them to the King's Bench was stopped by Captain Bridg, who was quickly knocked down and had his head injured in two places, unable to stand against the crowd. The crowd got between him and the jail, freed their friends, and chased the Mayor and Aldermen back into their homes, then shouted "Victory."
"Where, leaving them to breath a while, they went to one White's, a Barber (a man noted to be a busie fellow), whose windowes they pulled downe to the ground: The like they did to divers others, till night overtook them, and they were forced to depart, continuing peaceable the next day, it being the Saboth.
"After letting them relax for a bit, they went to a barber named White (known for being quite the busybody), and they slammed his windows down to the ground. They did the same to several others until night fell, and they had to leave, behaving peacefully the next day since it was Sunday."
"On Munday morning, the Multitude comming, the Major set a strong watch with Muskets and Holbards in the City, both at the Gates and at S. Andrews Church, the Captaine of the Guard was White the Barber.
"On Munday morning, as the crowd gathered, the Major set up a strong watch with muskets and halberds in the city, both at the gates and at S. Andrews Church. The captain of the guard was White the barber."
"Till noon, they were quiet, then came one Joyce, a Hackney man, whom White bid stand, the fellow asked what the matter was, and withall called him Roundhead; whereat White being moved, cocked his Pistoll and would have shot him, but the Major wisht him to hold: Neverthelesse he shot, and the fellow fell down, but was not dead. Whence arose a sudden clamour that a man was murdered, whereupon the people came forth with clubs, and the Major and Aldermen made haste away; the Towne rose againe, and the Country came in, took possession of the Gates, and made enquiry for White;[Pg 37] they found him in a hay loft, where they broke his head, and drag'd him in the streets, setting open the Prison dores and releasing those that were in hold.
"Until noon, they were quiet, then came a guy named Joyce, from Hackney. White told him to stand still, but the guy asked what was going on and called him Roundhead; this got White riled up, so he cocked his pistol and was ready to shoot, but the Major told him to hold on. Still, he pulled the trigger, and the guy fell but wasn’t dead. Suddenly, there was a commotion about a murder, and people rushed out with clubs. The Major and Aldermen quickly made their escape; the town rose up again, and the countryside joined in, taking control of the gates and looking for White; [Pg 37] they found him in a hayloft, where they smashed his head and dragged him through the streets, throwing open the prison doors and releasing those who were locked up."
"Next, they vowed vengeance on the Major, pulling up his posts, breaking his windowes; but, at last, being perswaded by Sir William Man, Master Lovelise, Master Harris, and Master Purser, had much adoe to persuade them from taking of his Person; so came tumultuously into the high street, and their demands were so high, that those Gentlemen could not perswade them. Afterward, meeting Master Burly, the Town Clark, demanded the Keyes of the Prison from him, which, being granted, they, with those Gentlemen formerly named, went again to the Town Hall to Treat, and came to an agreement, which was, that forty or fifty of their own men should keep the Town that night, being compleatly armed, which being performed (the morning issued) and they continued in arms till Tuesday morning: There are none as yet dead, but diverse dangerously hurt.
"Next, they swore to get revenge on the Major, tearing down his posters and breaking his windows; but eventually, after much convincing from Sir William Man, Master Lovelise, Master Harris, and Master Purser, they were persuaded not to capture him. They burst into the high street, and their demands were so extreme that the gentlemen couldn't change their minds. Later, they ran into Master Burly, the Town Clerk, and demanded the keys to the prison from him, which he gave them. Along with the previously mentioned gentlemen, they went back to the Town Hall to negotiate, and they reached an agreement that forty or fifty of their own men would guard the town that night, fully armed. This plan was carried out, and they remained armed until Tuesday morning. So far, there are no deaths, but several people are seriously injured."
"Master Sheriffe taking White's part, and striving to keep the Peace, was knockt down, and his head fearfully broke; it was God's mercy his braines were not beat out, but it should seem he had a clung[10] pate of his own.
"Master Sheriffe supporting White and trying to maintain the peace was knocked down, and his head was badly injured; it was a miracle his brains weren't shattered, but it seems he had a tough head of his own."
"They went also without S. George's gate, and did much injury to Mr. Lee.
They also went without S. George's gate and caused a lot of damage to Mr. Lee.
"As I am credibly informed, the injuries done are these.
"As I've been reliably told, the injuries that have occurred are these."
"They have beat down all the windowes of Mr. Major's House, burnt the Stoups at the comming in of his dore, Master Reeves' Windowes were broke, Master Page, and Master Pollen, one Buchurst, Captaine Bridge, Thomas Harris, a busie prating fellow, and others were sorely wounded.
"They have smashed all the windows of Mr. Major's house, burned the doors at the entrance, and broke the windows of Master Reeves. Master Page, and Master Pollen, along with one Buchurst, Captain Bridge, Thomas Harris, a loudmouth, and others were seriously injured."
"It is Ordered that Richard White and Robert Hues, being in fetters, be tryed according to the Law, and upon faire Composition, the multitude have delivered their Armes into the Hands of the City, upon engagements of the best of the City that no man shall further question or trouble them."
"It is ordered that Richard White and Robert Hues, being in chains, will be tried according to the law, and with a fair agreement, the people have surrendered their weapons to the city, with assurances from the city's best that no one will further question or disturb them."
On this Christmas day, Parliament,[11] "on Saturday, December 25th, commonly called Christmas day, received some[Pg 38] complaints of the countenancing of malignant ministers in some parts of London, where they preach and use the Common Prayer Book, contrary to the order of Parliament, and some delinquent Ministers have power given them to examine and punish churchwardens, sequestrators, and others that do countenance delinquent ministers to preach, and commit them, if they see cause; upon which some were taken into Custody." One instance of this is given in Whitelocke's Memorials (p. 286). "Mr. Harris, a Churchwarden of St. Martius, ordered to be committed for bringing delinquents to preach there, and to be displaced from his office of Churchwarden."
On this Christmas day, Parliament,[11] "on Saturday, December 25th, commonly called Christmas day, received some[Pg 38] complaints about some problematic ministers in parts of London, where they preach and use the Common Prayer Book, against the orders of Parliament. Some unfit ministers have been given the authority to examine and punish churchwardens, sequestrators, and others who support these ministers, and to detain them if deemed necessary; as a result, some individuals were taken into custody." One example of this is mentioned in Whitelocke's Memorials (p. 286). "Mr. Harris, a Churchwarden of St. Martius, was ordered to be detained for bringing unfit ministers to preach there and was removed from his position as Churchwarden."
And so it went on, the Parliament and Nonconformists doing their best to suppress Christ-tide, and the populace stubbornly refusing to submit, as is shown in a letter from Sir Thomas Gower to Mr. John Langley, on December 28, 1652.[12] "There is little worth writing, most of the time being spent in endeavouring to take away the esteem held of Christmas Day, to which end, order was made that whoever would open shops should be protected by the State; yet I heard of no more than two who did so, and one of them had better have given £50, his wares were so dirtyed; and secondly, that no sermons should be preached, which was observed (for aught I hear) save at Lincoln's Inn."
And so it went on, with Parliament and Nonconformists doing their best to suppress Christmas, while the people stubbornly refused to comply, as shown in a letter from Sir Thomas Gower to Mr. John Langley on December 28, 1652.[12] "There isn't much worth writing about, since most of the time is spent trying to diminish the respect for Christmas Day. To that end, they ordered that anyone who wanted to open shops would be protected by the State; however, I only heard of two doing so, and one of them would have been better off giving £50 because their goods were so dirty. And secondly, no sermons were supposed to be preached, which seemed to be followed (as far as I know) except at Lincoln's Inn."
Evelyn, who was a staunch Episcopalian, writes in deep despondency as to the keeping of Christ-tide. "1652, Dec. 25, Christmas day, no Sermon any where, no church being permitted to be open, so observed it at home. The next day, we went to Lewisham, where an honest divine preached." "1653, Dec. 25, Christmas-day. No churches, or public assembly. I was fain to pass the devotions of that Blessed day with my family at home." "1654, Dec. 25, Christmas-day. No public offices in Churches, but penalties on observers, so as I was constrained to celebrate it at home."
Evelyn, a committed Episcopalian, writes in deep sadness about celebrating Christmas. "1652, Dec. 25, Christmas day, there was no sermon anywhere, as no church was allowed to be open, so we observed it at home. The next day, we went to Lewisham, where an honest minister preached." "1653, Dec. 25, Christmas day. No churches or public gatherings. I had to spend the devotions of that Blessed day with my family at home." "1654, Dec. 25, Christmas day. No public services in churches, but there were penalties for those who celebrated, so I had to observe it at home."
On November 27, 1655, Cromwell promulgated an edict, prohibiting all ministers of the Church of England from preaching or teaching in any schools, and Evelyn sadly notes the fact. "Dec. 25. There was no more notice taken of[Pg 39] Christmas day in Churches. I went to London, where Dr. Wild preached the funeral sermon of Preaching,[13] this being the last day; after which, Cromwell's proclamation was to take place, that none of the Church of England should dare either to preach, or administer Sacraments, teach school, etc., on pain of imprisonment or exile. So this was the mournfullest day that in my life I had seen, or the Church of England herself, since the Reformation; to the great rejoicing of both Papist and Presbyter. So pathetic was his discourse, that it drew many tears from the auditory. Myself, wife, and some of our family received the Communion: God make me thankful, who hath hitherto provided for us the food of our souls as well as bodies! The Lord Jesus pity our distressed Church, and bring back the captivity of Zion!"
On November 27, 1655, Cromwell issued a decree that banned all ministers of the Church of England from preaching or teaching in schools, and Evelyn sadly remarked on this. "Dec. 25. There was no longer any mention of [Pg 39] Christmas day in churches. I went to London, where Dr. Wild delivered the farewell sermon for preaching, [13] as this was the last day; after which, Cromwell's proclamation would take effect, forbidding anyone from the Church of England to preach, administer Sacraments, teach in schools, etc., under the threat of imprisonment or exile. So this was the saddest day I had ever seen, or the Church of England itself, since the Reformation; to the great delight of both Catholics and Presbyterians. His speech was so moving that it brought many to tears. My wife, some of our family, and I received Communion: God make me thankful, who has provided us with nourishment for our souls as well as our bodies! May the Lord Jesus have mercy on our troubled Church and restore Zion!"
His next recorded Christ-tide was an eventful one for him, and he thus describes it: "1657, Dec. 25. I went to London with my wife to celebrate Christmas day, Mr. Gunning preaching in Exeter Chapel, on Michah vii. 2. Sermon ended, as he was giving us the Holy Sacrament, the Chapel was surrounded with soldiers, and all the Communicants and assembly surprised and kept prisoners by them, some in the house, others carried away. It fell to my share to be confined to a room in the house, where yet I was permitted to dine with the master of it, the Countess of Dorset, Lady Hatton, and some others of quality who invited me. In the afternoon, came Colonel Whalley, Goffe, and others, from Whitehall, to examine us one by one; some they committed to the Marshal, some to prison. When I came before them, they took my name and abode, examined me why, contrary to the ordinance made, that none should any longer observe the superstitious time of the Nativity (so esteemed by them), I durst offend, and particularly be at Common Prayers, which they told me was but the Mass in English, and particularly pray for Charles Stuart, for which we had no Scripture. I told them we did not pray for Charles Stuart, but for all Christian Kings, Princes, and Governors. They replied, in doing so we prayed for the King of Spain, too, who was their enemy, and a Papist, with other frivolous and ensnaring[Pg 40] questions and much threatening; and, finding no colour to detain me, they dismissed me with much pity of my ignorance. These were men of high flight and above ordinances, and spake spiteful things of our Lord's Nativity. As we went up to receive the Sacrament, the miscreants held their muskets against us, as if they would have shot us at the Altar, but yet suffering us to finish the Office of the Communion, as, perhaps, not having instructions what to do, in case they found us in that action. So I got home late the next day: blessed be God!"
His next recorded Christmas was quite eventful for him, and he described it like this: "1657, Dec. 25. I went to London with my wife to celebrate Christmas Day, with Mr. Gunning preaching at Exeter Chapel, on Micah 7:2. After the sermon, while he was administering the Holy Sacrament, the chapel was surrounded by soldiers, and all the communicants and the congregation were caught off guard and held captive by them, some inside the chapel and others taken away. I ended up being confined to a room in the house, but I was allowed to dine with the owner, the Countess of Dorset, Lady Hatton, and some other guests of distinction who invited me. In the afternoon, Colonel Whalley, Goffe, and others arrived from Whitehall to question us one by one; some were taken to the Marshal, others to prison. When it was my turn, they took my name and address and asked me why, contrary to the ordinance that nobody should observe the superstitious time of the Nativity (as they saw it), I dared to offend, and specifically why I was at Common Prayers, which they said was just the Mass in English, and particularly why I prayed for Charles Stuart, for which we had no scriptural basis. I told them we didn’t pray for Charles Stuart specifically, but for all Christian kings, princes, and governors. They replied that in doing so we were also praying for the King of Spain, who was their enemy and a Catholic, along with other trivial and entrapment questions and threats; and finding no grounds to hold me, they dismissed me with pity for my ignorance. These were men of high status who thought themselves above regulations and spoke spitefully about our Lord's Nativity. As we approached to receive the Sacrament, the miscreants aimed their muskets at us, as if they would shoot us at the altar, yet they allowed us to complete the Communion service, perhaps not having clear instructions on what to do if they found us in that action. So I got home late the next day: blessed be God!"
Cromwell himself seems to have been somewhat ashamed of these persecutions and severities, for[14] (25th December 1657) "Some Congregations being met to observe this day, according to former solemnity, and the Protector being moved that Souldiers might be sent to repress them, he advised against it, as that which was contrary to the Liberty of Conscience so much owned and pleaded for by the Protector and his friends; but, it being contrary to Ordinances of Parliament (which were also opposed in the passing of them) that these days should be so solemnized, the Protector gave way to it, and those meetings were suppressed by the Souldiers."
Cromwell himself seems to have been somewhat embarrassed by these persecutions and harsh actions, for[14] (25th December 1657) "Some congregations were gathered to observe this day, as they had done before, and the Protector was urged to send soldiers to shut them down; he advised against it, as it went against the Liberty of Conscience that the Protector and his supporters had strongly advocated for. However, since it was against Parliament's ordinances (which had also faced opposition during their passage) to celebrate these days in such a manner, the Protector relented, and those gatherings were dispersed by the soldiers."
But his life was drawing to a close, and with the Restoration of the king came also that of Christ-tide, and there was no longer any need of concealment, as Pepys tells us how he spent his Christmas day in 1662. "Had a pleasant walk to White Hall, where I intended to have received the Communion with the family, but I came a little too late. So I walked up into the house, and spent my time looking over pictures, particularly the ships in King Henry the VIII.ths voyage to Bullaen; marking the great difference between those built then and now. By and by down to the Chapel again, where Bishop Morley[15] preached upon the Song of the Angels, 'Glory to God on high, on earth peace, and good will towards men.' Methought he made but a poor Sermon, but long, and, reprehending the common jollity of the Court for the true joy that shall and ought to be on these days; he particularized concerning their excess in playes and gaming, saying that he whose office it is to keep the gamesters in order and within[Pg 41] bounds, serves but for a second rather in a duell, meaning the groome-porter. Upon which it was worth observing how far they are come from taking the reprehensions of a bishop seriously, that they all laugh in the Chapel when he reflected on their ill actions and courses. He did much press us to joy in these public days of joy, and to hospitality; but one that stood by whispered in my eare that the Bishop do not spend one groate to the poor himself. The Sermon done, a good anthem followed with vialls, and the King come down to receive the Sacrament. But I staid not, but, calling my boy from my Lord's lodgings, and giving Sarah some good advice, by my Lord's order, to be sober, and look after the house, I walked home again with great pleasure, and there dined by my wife's bed side with great content, having a mess of brave plum-porridge and a roasted pullet for dinner, and I sent for a mince pie abroad, my wife not being well, to make any herself yet."
But his life was coming to an end, and with the restoration of the king came also the return of Christmas, and there was no longer any need to hide, as Pepys tells us how he spent his Christmas day in 1662. "I had a nice walk to White Hall, where I planned to take Communion with the family, but I arrived a little too late. So I walked into the house and spent my time looking at pictures, especially the ships from King Henry VIII's voyage to Bullen, noticing the big difference between those built then and now. After a while, I went back to the Chapel, where Bishop Morley preached on the Song of the Angels, 'Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, and goodwill toward men.' I thought he gave a pretty dull sermon, but it was long, and he criticized the common revelry of the Court for the true joy that should and ought to be celebrated on these days; he specifically mentioned their excess in plays and gaming, saying that the person responsible for keeping the gamblers in check only serves as a second in a duel, referring to the groom-porter. It was interesting to see how far they had strayed from taking a bishop’s criticism seriously, as everyone laughed in the Chapel when he pointed out their wrongdoings. He urged us to enjoy these public days of celebration and be hospitable; but someone next to me whispered in my ear that the Bishop doesn't give a penny to the poor himself. After the sermon, a good anthem followed with viols, and the King came down to receive the Sacrament. But I didn't stay; I called my boy from my Lord's lodgings and gave Sarah some good advice, on my Lord's orders, to be responsible and look after the house. I walked home again with great pleasure and dined by my wife's bedside with great satisfaction, having a nice bowl of plum porridge and a roasted chicken for dinner, and I ordered a mince pie from outside since my wife wasn't well enough to make any herself yet."
The popular love of Christmas is well exemplified in a little 16mo book, printed in 1678, entitled "The Examination and Tryal of old Father Christmas; Together with his Clearing by the Jury, at the Assizes held at the Town of Difference, in the County of Discontent." The Jury was evidently a packed one. "Then saith the Clerk to the Cryer, count them—Starve-mouse, one, All-pride, two, Keep-all, three, Love-none, four, Eat-alone, five, Give-little, six, Hoard-corn, seven, Grutch-meat, eight, Knit-gut, nine, Serve-time, ten, Hate-good, eleven, Cold-kitchen, twelve.
The widespread affection for Christmas is clearly shown in a small 16mo book, printed in 1678, titled "The Examination and Trial of Old Father Xmas; Along with His Acquittal by the Jury, at the Assizes held in the Town of Difference, in the County of Discontent." The jury was clearly biased. "Then the Clerk says to the Cryer, count them—Starve-mouse, one, All-pride, two, Keep-all, three, Love-none, four, Eat-alone, five, Give-little, six, Hoard-corn, seven, Grutch-meat, eight, Knit-gut, nine, Serve-time, ten, Hate-good, eleven, Cold-kitchen, twelve.
"Then saith the Cryer, all you bountiful Gentlemen of the Jury, answer to your names, and stand together, and hear your Charge.
"Then says the Cryer, all you generous members of the Jury, respond to your names, gather together, and listen to your Charge."
"With that there was such a lamentable groan heard, enough to turn Ice into Ashes, which caused the Judge, and the rest of the Bench, to demand what the matter was; it was replied that the grave old Gentleman, Christmas, did sound (swoon) at the naming of the Jury; then it was commanded that they should give him air, and comfort him up, so that he might plead for himself: and here, I cannot pass by in silence, the love that was expressed by the Country people, some shreeking and crying for the old man; others striving to hold him up, others hugging him, till they had almost broke the[Pg 42] back of him, others running for Cordials and strong waters, insomuch that, at last they had called back his wandring spirits, which were ready to take their last farewel."
"Then there was such a heart-wrenching groan heard, enough to turn Ice into Ashes, which made the Judge and the rest of the Bench ask what was going on; they were told that the elderly gentleman, Christmas, had fainted at the mention of the Jury; so they ordered that he be given some fresh air and be helped up, so he could speak for himself: and here, I can't ignore the affection shown by the locals, some screaming and crying for the old man; others trying to hold him up, others hugging him until they nearly broke his[Pg 42] back, and some running for Cordials and strong drinks, so much so that, in the end, they had called back his wandering spirits, which were ready to say their final goodbye."
Christmas challenged this jury, and another was empanelled consisting of Messrs Love-friend, Hate-strife, Free-man, Cloath-back, Warm-gut, Good-work, Neighbour-hood, Open-house, Scorn-use, Soft-heart, Merry-man, and True-love. His Indictment was as follows:
Christmas put this jury to the test, so another one was assembled made up of Messrs Love-friend, Hate-strife, Free-man, Cloath-back, Warm-gut, Good-work, Neighbour-hood, Open-house, Scorn-use, Soft-heart, Merry-man, and True-love. His Indictment was as follows:
"Christmas, thou art here indicted by the name of Christmas, of the Town of Superstition, in the County of Idolatry, and that thou hast, from time to time, abused the people of this Common-wealth, drawing and inticing them to Drunkenness, Gluttony, and unlawful Gaming, Wantonness, Uncleanness, Lasciviousness, Cursing, Swearing, abuse of the Creatures, some to one Vice, and some to another; all to Idleness: what sayest thou to thy Inditement, guilty or not guilty? He answered, Not guilty, and so put himself to the Trial."
"Christmas, you are here accused by the name of Christmas, from the Town of Superstition, in the County of Idolatry, for having, at various times, misled the people of this Common-wealth, leading them to Drunkenness, Gluttony, and illegal Gambling, as well as promoting Wantonness, Uncleanness, Lasciviousness, Cursing, Swearing, and mistreatment of the Creatures, each person drawn to different Vices, all resulting in Idleness: how do you plead to this charge, guilty or not guilty? He replied, Not guilty, and therefore entered himself for Trial."
After the witnesses against him were heard, Christmas was asked what he could say in his defence.
After the witnesses against him were heard, Christmas was asked what he could say in his defense.
"Judge.—Old Christmas, hold up thy head, and speak for thy self. Thou hast heard thy inditement, and also what all these Witnesses have evidenced against thee; what sayest thou now for thy self, that sentence of condemnation should not be pronounced against thee?
Judge.—Old Christmas, lift your head and speak for yourself. You’ve heard your charges and what all these witnesses have testified against you; what do you have to say for yourself so that a sentence of condemnation isn’t passed against you?
"Christmas.—Good my Lord, be favourable to an old man, I am above One thousand six hundred years old, and was never questioned at Sizes or Sessions before: my Lord, look on these white hairs, are they not a Crown of Glory?...
"Christmas.—My Lord, please be kind to an old man. I am over one thousand six hundred years old and have never been questioned at a trial or hearing before. My Lord, look at these white hairs; aren’t they a crown of glory?..."
"And first, my Lord, I am wronged in being indited by a wrong name, I am corruptly called Christmas, my name is Christ-tide or time.
"And first, my Lord, I’m wronged by being accused with the wrong name. I’m wrongly called Christmas; my name is Christ-tide or time."
"And though I generally come at a set time, yet I am with him every day that knows how to use me.
"And even though I usually arrive at a specific time, I’m still with him every day that knows how to make use of me."
"My Lord, let the Records be searcht, and you shall find that the Angels rejoyced at my coming, and sung Gloria in excelsis; the Patriarchs and Prophets longed to see me.
"My Lord, let the Records be searched, and you will find that the Angels rejoiced at my arrival and sang Gloria in excelsis; the Patriarchs and Prophets wanted to see me."
"The Fathers have sweetly imbraced me, our modern Divines all comfortably cherisht me; O let me not be despised now I'm old. Is there not an injunction in Magna[Pg 43] Charta, that commands men to inquire for the old way, which is the good way; many good deeds do I do, O, why do the people hate me? We are commanded to be given to Hospitality, and this hath been my practice from my youth upward: I come to put men in mind of their redemption, to have them love one another, to impart with something here below, that they may receive more and better things above; the wise man saith There is a time for all things, and why not for thankfulness? I have been the cause that at my coming, Ministers have instructed the people every day in publick, telling the people how they should use me, and other delights, not to effeminate, or corrupt the mind, and bid them abhor those pleasures from which they should not rise bettered, and that they should by no means turn pass-time into Trade: And if that at any time they have stept an Inch into excess, to punish themselves for it, and be ever after the more careful to keep within compass.
"The Fathers have warmly embraced me, our modern ministers have all comfortably supported me; oh, please don’t let me be rejected now that I’m old. Isn’t there a command in Magna[Pg 43] Charta that tells people to seek the old path, which is the good path? I do many good deeds, oh, why do people hate me? We are told to be hospitable, and I have practiced this since my youth: I come to remind people of their redemption, to encourage them to love one another, to share what they have here on Earth, so they can receive greater and better things above; the wise man says There is a time for all things, so why not for gratitude? I have ensured that when I arrive, ministers have taught the people publicly every day, instructing them on how to enjoy me and other pleasures without becoming weak or corrupt in mind, and urging them to avoid those pleasures that don't lead to genuine improvement, making sure they don’t turn leisure into a business. If they ever slip even a little into excess, they should punish themselves for it and be more careful to stay within limits from then on."
"And did also advise them to manage their sports without Passion; they would also tell the people that their feasts should not be much more than nature requires, and grace moderates; not pinching, nor pampering; And whereas they say that I am the cause they sit down to meat, and rise up again graceless, they abundantly wrong me: I have told them that before any one should put his hand in the dish, he should look up to the owner, and hate to put one morsel in his mouth unblessed: I tell them they ought to give thanks for that which is paid for already, knowing that neither the meat, nor the mouth, nor the man, are of his own making: I bid them fill their bellies, not their eyes, and rise from the board, not glutted, but only satisfied, and charge them to have a care that their guts be no hindrances to their brains or hands, and that they should not lose themselves in their feasts, but bid them be soberly merry, and wisely free. I also advise them to get friendly Thrift to be there Caterer, and Temperance to carve at the board, and be very watchful that obscenity, detraction and scurrility be banisht the table; but let their discourse be as savoury as the meat, and so feed as though they did live to eat, and, at last, rise as full of thankfulness, as of food; this hath, this is, and this shall be my continual practice.[Pg 44]
"And I also advised them to enjoy their games without getting too intense; they should remind people that their celebrations shouldn’t go beyond what nature requires and grace allows—no deprivation, no overindulgence. And while they claim that I am the reason they sit down to eat and get up without grace, they are greatly mistaken: I’ve told them that before anyone reaches for food, they should first look up to the owner and avoid taking a single bite without a blessing. I tell them they should give thanks for what they’ve already paid for, knowing that neither the food, nor the mouth, nor the person is made by him. I advise them to fill their stomachs, not their eyes, and to leave the table not stuffed, but simply satisfied, reminding them that their appetites shouldn’t interfere with their minds or hands, and that they shouldn’t lose themselves in their meals, but instead be moderately joyful and wisely free. I also suggest they invite friendly Thrift as their planner, and Temperance to serve at the table, making sure that obscenity, gossip, and rudeness are banished from the gathering; let their conversation be as enjoyable as the food, so they eat as if they live to eat, and ultimately rise as grateful as they are full of food; this has been, this is, and this will always be my ongoing practice.[Pg 44]
"Now, concerning the particulars that these folks charge me with, I cannot answer them, because I do not remember them; my memory is but weak, as old men's use to be; but, methinks, they seem to be the seed of the Dragon; they send forth of their mouths whole floods of impious inventions against me, and lay to my charge things which I am not guilty of, which hath caused some of my friends to forsake me, and look upon me as a stranger: my brother Good-works broke his heart when he heard on it, my sister Charity was taken with the Numb-palsie, so that she cannot stretch out her hand...."
"Now, about the specific accusations these people have against me, I can’t respond because I don’t remember them; my memory is pretty weak, like old men’s usually are. But it feels like they’re just making stuff up; they’re spewing out a torrent of falsehoods against me and blaming me for things I didn’t do, which has caused some of my friends to turn away and treat me like a stranger. My brother Good-works was heartbroken when he found out about it, and my sister Charity was struck with a numbness that prevents her from reaching out her hand...."
Counsel was heard for him as well as witnesses examined on his behalf, and the Jury "brought him in, Not Guilty, with their own judgement upon it. That he who would not fully celebrate Christmas should forfeit his estate. The Judge being a man of old integrity, was very well pleased, and Christmas was released with a great deal of triumph and exaltation."
Counsel spoke for him, and witnesses were heard on his behalf, and the Jury found him, Not Guilty, making their own judgment on the matter. They decided that anyone who wouldn't fully celebrate Christmas should lose their property. The Judge, a man of longstanding integrity, was very pleased, and Christmas was set free with much joy and celebration.
We take it for granted that in the old times, when Christ-tide was considered so great a festival as to be accorded a Novena—that it began on the 16th December, when, according to the use of Sarum, the antiphon "O Sapientia," is sung. This, as before stated, is pointed out plainly in our English Church Calendar, which led to a curious mistake on the part of Dr. Ellicott, Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol, who on one occasion described it as the Festival of "O Sapientia." The other antiphons which are sung between the 16th December and Christmas Eve are "O Adonai," "O Radix Jesu," "O Clavis David," "O Oriens Splendor," "O Rex Gentium," and "O Emmanuel," and they are commonly called the O's.
We take it for granted that in the past, when Christmas was celebrated as a major festival that included a Novena, it started on December 16th, when, following the Sarum tradition, the antiphon "O Sapientia" is sung. This is clearly indicated in our English Church Calendar, which led to an interesting mistake by Dr. Ellicott, Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol, who once referred to it as the Festival of "O Sapientia." The other antiphons sung between December 16th and Christmas Eve include "O Adonai," "O Radix Jesu," "O Clavis David," "O Oriens Splendor," "O Rex Gentium," and "O Emmanuel," and they are commonly referred to as the O's.
But, beyond its being lawful to eat mince pies on the 16th December, I know of nothing noteworthy on the days intervening between that date and the festival of St. Thomas on the 21st December, which is, or was, celebrated in different parts of the country, with some very curious customs. The earliest I can find of these is noted by Drake in his Eboracum,[16] and he says he took the account from a MS. which came into his possession.
But aside from it being acceptable to eat mince pies on December 16th, I can’t think of anything significant happening between that date and the celebration of St. Thomas on December 21st, which is or was marked in various parts of the country with some rather unique customs. The earliest mention I can find of these is noted by Drake in his Eboracum,[16], and he mentions that he got the information from a manuscript that he obtained.
"William the Conqueror, on the third year of his reign (on St. Thomas's Day), laid siege to the City of York; but, finding himself unable, either by policy or strength, to gain it,[Pg 46] raised the siege, which he had no sooner done but by accident he met with two fryers at a place called Skelton, not far from York, and had been to seek reliefe for their fellows and themselves against Christmas: the one having a wallet full of victualls and a shoulder of mutton in his hand, with two great cakes hanging about his neck; the other having bottles of ale, with provisions, likewise of beife and mutton in his wallett.
"William the Conqueror, in the third year of his reign (on St. Thomas's Day), laid siege to the City of York; but, finding himself unable, either through strategy or strength, to capture it,[Pg 46] raised the siege. As soon as he did, he happened to meet two friars at a place called Skelton, not far from York, who were looking for supplies for themselves and their fellow monks for Christmas: one had a bag full of food and was carrying a shoulder of mutton in his hand, with two large cakes hanging around his neck; the other was carrying bottles of ale and also had provisions, including beef and mutton in his bag."
"The King, knowing their poverty and condition, thought they might be serviceable to him towards the attaining York, wherefore (being accompanied with Sir John Fothergill, general of the field, a Norman born), he gave them money, and withall a promise that, if they would lett him and his soldiers into their priory at a time appointed, he would not only rebuild their priory, but indowe it likewise with large revenues and ample privileges. The fryers easily consented, and the Conqueror as soon sent back his army, which, that night, according to agreement, were let into the priory by the two fryers, by which they immediately made themselves masters of all York; after which Sir Robert Clifford, who was governor thereof, was so far from being blamed by the Conqueror for his stout defence made the preceding days, that he was highly esteemed and rewarded for his valour, being created Lord Clifford, and there knighted, with the four magistrates then in office—viz., Horongate, Talbot (who after came to be Lord Talbott), Lassells, and Erringham.
"The King, aware of their poverty and situation, thought they could be useful to him in capturing York. So, accompanied by Sir John Fothergill, the field general originally from Normandy, he gave them money and promised that if they would let him and his soldiers into their priory at a specified time, he would not only rebuild their priory but also endow it with significant revenues and extensive privileges. The friars readily agreed, and the Conqueror quickly sent back his army, which that night, as arranged, was admitted into the priory by the two friars. They immediately took control of all of York; after which Sir Robert Clifford, the governor at the time, was not blamed by the Conqueror for his strong defense in the previous days. On the contrary, he was highly regarded and rewarded for his bravery, being made Lord Clifford and knighted there, along with the four magistrates then in office—namely, Horongate, Talbot (who later became Lord Talbott), Lassells, and Erringham."
"The Arms of the City of York at that time was, argent, a cross, gules, viz. St. George's Cross. The Conqueror charged the cross with five lyons, passant gardant, or, in memory of the five worthy captains, magistrates, who governed the city so well, that he afterwards made Sir Robert Clifford governour thereof, and the other four to aid him in counsell; and, the better to keep the City in obedience, he built two castles, and double-moated them about; and, to shew the confidence and trust he put in these old but new-made officers by him, he offered them freely to ask whatsoever they would of him before he went, and he would grant their request; wherefore they (abominating the treachery of the two fryers to their eternal infamy), desired that, on St. Thomas's Day, for ever, they might have a fryer of the priory[Pg 47] of St. Peter's to ride through the city on horseback, with his face to the horse's tayle: and that, in his hand, instead of a bridle, he should have a rope, and in the other a shoulder of mutton, with one cake hanging on his back and another on his breast, with his face painted like a Jew; and the youth of the City to ride with him, and to cry and shout 'Youl, Youl!' with the officers of the City riding before and making proclamation, that on this day the City was betrayed; and their request was granted them; which custom continued till the dissolution of the said fryory; and afterwards, in imitation of the same, the young men and artizans of the City, on the aforesaid St. Thomas's day, used to dress up one of their own companions like a fryer, and call him Youl, which custom continued till within these threescore years, there being many now living which can testify the same. But upon what occasion since discontinued, I cannot learn; this being done in memory of betraying the City by the said fryers to William the Conqueror."
"The Coat of Arms of the City of York at that time was, silver, with a cross, red, specifically St. George's Cross. The Conqueror placed five lions, walking and facing forward, gold, on the cross in honor of the five worthy leaders who governed the city so well that he later appointed Sir Robert Clifford as its governor, with the other four to assist him as advisers. To ensure the City remained obedient, he built two castles, surrounded them with double moats, and to show the trust he placed in these old but newly appointed officials, he invited them to ask him for anything they wanted before he left, promising to grant their request. Consequently, they (denouncing the treachery of the two friars to their everlasting shame) requested that, on St. Thomas’s Day, they could have a friar from the priory[Pg 47] of St. Peter’s ride through the city on horseback, facing the horse’s tail; and that he should hold a rope instead of a bridle, a piece of mutton in one hand, and have cakes hanging on his back and chest, with his face painted like a Jew; and the young people of the City would ride with him, shouting 'Youl, Youl!' while the City’s officers rode ahead, proclaiming that on this day, the City was betrayed. Their request was granted, and this tradition continued until the dissolution of that priory; afterwards, as an imitation of this, the young men and craftsmen of the City used to dress one of their friends as a friar and call him Youl, a custom that lasted until about sixty years ago, with many still living who can attest to it. However, I cannot ascertain the reason it was discontinued since this was done in memory of the betrayal of the City by the friars to William the Conqueror."
St. Thomas's day used to be utilised in laying in store of food at Christ-tide for the purpose of properly keeping the feast of the Nativity. In the Isle of Man it was the custom for the people to go on that day to the mountains in order to capture deer and sheep for the feast; and at night bonfires blazed on the summit of every "fingan," or cliff, to provide for which, at the time of casting peats, every person put aside a large one, saying, "Faaid mooar moaney son oie'l fingan"—that is, A large turf for Fingan's Eve.
St. Thomas's Day was traditionally used to stock up on food for Christmas to properly celebrate the Nativity feast. In the Isle of Man, it was customary for people to head to the mountains on that day to hunt deer and sheep for the feast; at night, bonfires lit up the tops of every "fingan," or cliff. To prepare for this, during the peat cutting season, everyone set aside a large piece, saying, "Faaid mooar moaney son oie'l fingan"—that is, A large turf for Fingan's Eve.
Beef was sometimes left to the parish by deceased benefactors, as in the case of Boteler's Bull Charity at Biddenham, Bedfordshire, of which Edwards says:[17] "This is an ancient annual payment of £5 out of an estate at Biddenham, formerly belonging to the family of Boteler, and now the property of Lord Viscount Hampden, which is due and regularly paid on St. Thomas's Day to the overseers of the poor, and is applicable by the terms of the original gift (of which no written memorial is to be found), or by long-established usage, to the purchase of a bull, which is killed[Pg 48] and the flesh thereof given among the poor persons of the parish.
Beef was sometimes donated to the local community by benefactors who had passed away, as seen in Boteler's Bull Charity at Biddenham, Bedfordshire, which Edwards mentions:[17] "This is an old annual payment of £5 from an estate in Biddenham, which used to belong to the Boteler family and is currently owned by Lord Viscount Hampden. The payment is made every St. Thomas's Day to the overseers of the poor and is meant, based on the original terms of the gift (for which there is no written record) or long-standing custom, to fund the purchase of a bull. The bull is then slaughtered[Pg 48] and the meat is distributed among the poor residents of the parish."
"For many years past, the annual fund being insufficient to purchase a bull, the deficiency has been made good out of other charities belonging to the parish. It was proposed some years ago by the vicar that the £5 a year should be laid out in buying meat, but the poor insisted on the customary purchase of a bull being continued, and the usage is, accordingly, kept up. The price of the bull has varied of late years from £9 to £14. The Churchwardens, Overseers, and principal inhabitants assist at the distribution of the meat."
"For many years, the annual fund has not been enough to buy a bull, so the shortfall has been covered by other charities in the parish. A few years ago, the vicar suggested spending the £5 a year on buying meat, but the local poor insisted that the traditional purchase of a bull should continue, and so the practice is maintained. The price of the bull has ranged from £9 to £14 in recent years. The Churchwardens, Overseers, and leading residents help with distributing the meat."
He gives another instance[18] of a gift of beef and barley at Nevern, Pembrokeshire: "William Rogers, by will, June 1806, gave to the Minister and Churchwardens of Nevern and their successors £800 three per cent. Consols, to be transferred by his executors within six months after his decease; and it was his will that the dividends should be laid out annually, one moiety thereof in good beef, the other moiety in good barley, the same to be distributed on every St. Thomas's Day in every year by the Minister and Churchwardens, to and among the poor of the said parish of Nevern.
He provides another example[18] of a donation of beef and barley in Nevern, Pembrokeshire: "William Rogers, in his will from June 1806, left £800 in three percent Consols to the Minister and Churchwardens of Nevern and their successors, to be transferred by his executors within six months after his death; and it was his wish that the dividends be spent annually, with one half going towards good beef and the other half towards good barley, to be given out every St. Thomas's Day each year by the Minister and Churchwardens to the poor of the parish of Nevern.
"After the payment of £1 to a solicitor in London, and a small amount for a stamp and postage, the dividends (£24) are expended in the purchase of beef and barley, which is distributed by the Churchwarden on 21st December to all the poor of the parish, in shares of between two and three gallons of barley, and between two and three pounds of beef."
"After paying £1 to a lawyer in London, along with a little extra for a stamp and postage, the dividends (£24) are used to buy beef and barley. On December 21st, the Churchwarden distributes these to all the needy in the parish, in portions of two to three gallons of barley and two to three pounds of beef."
Yet another example of Christmas beef for the poor—this time rather an unpleasant one:[19] "The cruel practice of bull-baiting was continued annually on St. Thomas's Day in the quaint old town of Wokingham, Berks, so lately as 1821. In 1822, upon the passing of the Act against cruelty to Animals, the Corporation resolved on abolishing the custom. The alderman (as the chief Magistrate is called there) went with his officers in procession and solemnly pulled up the bull-ring, which had, from immemorial time been fixed in the market-place. The bull-baiting was regarded with no ordinary[Pg 49] attachment by 'the masses'; for, besides the love of 'sport,' however barbarous, it was here connected with something more solid—the Christmas dinner.
Yet another example of Christmas beef for the poor—this time rather unpleasant:[19] "The cruel practice of bull-baiting continued annually on St. Thomas's Day in the quaint old town of Wokingham, Berks, as recently as 1821. In 1822, after the passing of the Act against cruelty to Animals, the Corporation decided to end the custom. The alderman (the title for the chief Magistrate there) led his officers in a procession and solemnly pulled up the bull-ring, which had been fixed in the market-place for as long as anyone could remember. Bull-baiting was held in considerable affection by 'the masses'; aside from the love of 'sport,' however brutal, it was also tied to something more significant—the Christmas dinner.[Pg 49]
"In 1661, George Staverton gave by will, out of his Staines house, four pounds to buy a bull for the use of the poor of Wokingham parish, to be increased to six pounds after the death of his wife and her daughter; the bull to be baited, and then cut up, 'one poor's piece not exceeding another's in bigness.' Staverton must have been an amateur of the bull-bait; for he exhorts his wife, if she can spare her four pounds a-year, to let the poor have the bull at Christmas next after his decease, and so forward.
"In 1661, George Staverton left in his will four pounds from his house in Staines to buy a bull for the poor of Wokingham parish, which would increase to six pounds after the death of his wife and her daughter. The bull was to be baited and then butchered, with each poor person receiving a piece of equal size. Staverton must have been a fan of bull-baiting, as he urges his wife to let the poor have the bull at Christmas after his death, provided she can afford to spare her four pounds a year."
"Great was the wrath of the populace in 1822 at the loss, not of the beef—for the corporation duly distributed the meat—but of the baiting. They vented their rage for successive years in occasional breaches of the peace. They found out—often informed by the sympathising farmer or butcher—where the devoted animal was domiciled; proceeded at night to liberate him from stall or meadow, and to chase him across the country with all the noisy accompaniments imaginable. So long was this feeling kept alive, that thirteen years afterwards—viz. in 1835—the mob broke into the place where one of the two animals to be divided was abiding, and baited him, in defiance of the authorities, in the market-place; one enthusiastic amateur, tradition relates, actually lying on the ground and seizing the miserable brute by the nostril, more canino, with his own human teeth! This was not to be endured, and a sentence of imprisonment in Reading Gaol gave the coup de grace to the sport. The bequest of Staverton now yields an income of £20, and has for several years past been appropriated to the purchase of two bulls. The flesh is divided, and distributed annually on St. Thomas's Day, by the alderman, churchwardens, and overseers to nearly every poor family (between 200 and 300), without regard to their receiving parochial relief. The produce of the offal and hides is laid out in the purchase of shoes and stockings for the poor women and children. The bulls' tongues are recognised by courtesy as the perquisites of the alderman and town-clerk."
The anger of the public in 1822 was intense not over the loss of the beef—since the corporation properly distributed the meat—but over the loss of the baiting. They expressed their frustration for years through occasional disturbances. They discovered—often with tips from sympathetic farmers or butchers—where the chosen animal was kept; then they would sneak out at night to free it from its stall or pasture and chase it around the countryside with all sorts of loud distractions. This sentiment persisted for so long that thirteen years later—in 1835—the mob broke into the place where one of the two animals to be slaughtered was staying and baited him, openly defying the authorities, in the marketplace. According to tradition, one overzealous enthusiast even lay on the ground and grabbed the poor animal by the nostril, using his own teeth! This could not be tolerated, and a prison sentence in Reading Gaol put an end to the practice. The bequest from Staverton now generates an annual income of £20, which has been used for years to buy two bulls. The meat is divided and distributed each year on St. Thomas's Day by the alderman, church wardens, and overseers to nearly every poor family (between 200 and 300), regardless of whether they receive parish relief. The proceeds from the offal and hides are used to buy shoes and stockings for poor women and children. The bulls' tongues are treated as the perks of the alderman and town clerk.
But there were other kindly gifts to the poor, vide one at[Pg 50] Farnsfield, Nottinghamshire, where Samuel Higgs,[20] by his will dated May 11, 1820 (as appears from the church tablet), gave £50 to the vicar and churchwardens of this parish, and directed that the interest should be given every year on 21st December, in equal proportions, to ten poor men and women who could repeat the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments before the vicar or such other person as he should appoint to hear them. The interest is applied according to the donor's orders, and the poor persons appointed to partake of the charity continue to receive it during their lives.
But there were other generous donations to the poor, see one at[Pg 50] Farnsfield, Nottinghamshire, where Samuel Higgs,[20] by his will dated May 11, 1820 (as noted on the church plaque), gave £50 to the vicar and churchwardens of this parish. He specified that the interest should be distributed every year on December 21st, in equal shares, to ten poor men and women who could recite the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments before the vicar or another person he designates to hear them. The interest is used according to the donor's wishes, and the chosen recipients continue to receive it for the rest of their lives.
Take another case, at Tainton, Oxfordshire,[21] where a quarter of barley meal is provided annually at the expense of Lord Dynevor, the lord of the manor, and made into loaves called cobbs. These used to be given away in Tainton Church to such of the poor children of Burford as attended. A sermon is preached on St. Thomas's Day, according to directions supposed to be contained in the will of Edmund Harman, 6s. 8d. being also paid out of Lord Dynevor's estate to the preacher. The children used to make so much riot and disturbance in the church, that about 1809 it was thought better to distribute the cobbs in a stable belonging to one of the churchwardens, and this course has been pursued ever since.
Take another case, at Tainton, Oxfordshire,[21] where a quarter of barley meal is provided every year at the expense of Lord Dynevor, the lord of the manor, and made into loaves called cobbs. These used to be given away in Tainton Church to the poor children of Burford who attended. A sermon is preached on St. Thomas's Day, following instructions believed to be in the will of Edmund Harman, with 6s. 8d. also paid from Lord Dynevor's estate to the preacher. The children used to make so much noise and disturbance in the church that around 1809 it was decided to distribute the cobbs in a stable owned by one of the churchwardens, and this has been the practice ever since.
At Slindon, Sussex,[22] a sum of £15 was placed in the Arundel Savings Bank, in the year 1824, the interest of which is distributed on St. Thomas's Day. It is said that this money was found many years since on the person of a beggar, who died by the roadside, and the interest of it has always been appropriated by the parish officers for the use of the poor.
At Slindon, Sussex,[22] a sum of £15 was deposited in the Arundel Savings Bank in 1824, and the interest from it is given out on St. Thomas's Day. It's said that this money was discovered many years ago on a beggar who died by the roadside, and the parish officers have always used the interest for the benefit of the poor.
Where these gifts were not distributed, as a rule, the poor country folk went round begging for something wherewith to keep the festival of Christ-tide; and for this they can scarcely be blamed, for agricultural wages were very low, and mostly paid in kind, so that the labourer could never lay by for a rainy day, much less have spare cash to spend in festivity. Feudality was not wholly extinct, and they natur[Pg 51]ally leaned upon their richer neighbours for help—especially at this season of rejoicing throughout all England—a time of feasting ever since the Saxon rule. So, following the rule of using St. Thomas's Day as the day for providing the necessaries for the Christmas feast, they went about from farm-house to mansion soliciting gifts of food. In some parts, as in Derbyshire, this was called "going a-Thomassing," and the old and young folks would come home laden with gifts of milk, cheese, wheat, with which to make furmity or furmenty, oatmeal, flour, potatoes, mince pies, pigs' puddings, or pork pies, and other goodies. This collection went by the same name in Cheshire and neighbouring counties, where the poor generally carried a bag and a can into which they might put the flour, meal, or corn that might be given them.
Where these gifts weren't given out, the poor country folks typically went around begging for something to help celebrate Christmas; and they can hardly be blamed for it, since agricultural wages were very low and mostly paid in goods, meaning that laborers could never save for tough times, let alone have extra cash for celebrations. Feudalism wasn’t completely gone, and they usually relied on their wealthier neighbors for assistance—especially during this season of celebration across England, which has been a time for feasting since the Saxon era. So, following the tradition of using St. Thomas's Day to gather supplies for the Christmas feast, they would go from farm to mansion asking for food donations. In some areas, like Derbyshire, this was known as "going a-Thomassing," and both young and old would return home loaded with gifts of milk, cheese, wheat for making furmity, oatmeal, flour, potatoes, mince pies, sausages, or pork pies, along with other treats. This practice had the same name in Cheshire and nearby counties, where the poor generally carried a bag and a can to collect any flour, meal, or grain offered to them.
In other places, such as Northamptonshire, Kent, Sussex, Herefordshire, Worcestershire, it went under the name of "Going a Gooding," and in some cases the benefactions were acknowledged by a return present of a sprig of holly or mistletoe or a bunch of primroses. In some parts of Herefordshire they "called a spade a spade," and called this day "Mumping," or begging day; and in Warwickshire, where they principally received presents of corn, it was termed "going-a-corning"; and in that home of orchards Worcestershire, this rhyme used to be sung—
In other places, like Northamptonshire, Kent, Sussex, Herefordshire, and Worcestershire, it was known as "Going a Gooding," and sometimes the gifts were acknowledged with a return gift of a sprig of holly or mistletoe or a bunch of primroses. In some areas of Herefordshire, they were straightforward and referred to this day as "Mumping," or begging day; in Warwickshire, where they mostly received gifts of corn, it was called "going-a-corning"; and in the orchard-rich Worcestershire, this rhyme was once sung—
Wissal, wassail through the town, If you've got any apples throw them down; Up with the stocking, and down with the shoe, If you've got no apples money will do. The jug is white, and the ale is brown, This is the best house in the town. |
"Cuthbert Bede" (the Rev. Edward Bradley) writes[23]—"In the Staffordshire parish whence I write, S. Thomas's Day is observed thus:—Not only do the old women and widows, but representatives also from each poorer family in the parish, come round for alms. The clergyman is expected to give one shilling to each person, and, as no 'reduction is made on taking a quantity' of recipients, he finds the celebration of the day attended with no small[Pg 52] expense. Some of the parishioners give alms in money, others in kind. Thus, some of the farmers give corn, which the miller grinds gratis. The day's custom is termed 'Gooding.' In neighbouring parishes no corn is given, the farmers giving money instead; and in some places the money collected is placed in the hands of the clergyman and churchwardens, who, on the Sunday nearest to S. Thomas's Day, distribute it at the vestry. The fund is called S. Thomas's Dole, and the day itself is termed Doleing Day."
"Cuthbert Bede" (the Rev. Edward Bradley) writes[23]—"In the Staffordshire parish where I’m writing from, S. Thomas's Day is observed like this: Not only do the elderly women and widows participate, but representatives from each poorer family in the parish also come around for donations. The clergyman is expected to give each person one shilling, and since there's no 'discount for bulk' in terms of recipients, he finds that celebrating the day comes with quite a bit of expense. Some parishioners give money as alms, while others contribute food. For example, some farmers provide corn, which the miller grinds for free. This practice is called 'Gooding.' In nearby parishes, corn isn’t given; instead, farmers donate money. In some places, the collected money is entrusted to the clergyman and churchwardens, who distribute it at the vestry on the Sunday closest to S. Thomas's Day. This fund is known as S. Thomas's Dole, and the day itself is referred to as Doleing Day."
There is very little folk-lore about this day. Halliwell says that girls used to have a method of divination with a "S. Thomas's Onion," for the purpose of finding their future husbands. The onion was peeled, wrapped in a clean handkerchief, and then being placed under their heads, the following lines were said:
There is very little folklore about this day. Halliwell mentions that girls used to have a way of predicting their future husbands using a "S. Thomas's Onion." The onion was peeled, wrapped in a clean handkerchief, and then placed under their heads while they recited the following lines:
Good S. Thomas, do me right, And see my true love come to-night, That I may see him in the face, And him in my kind arms embrace. |
A writer in Notes and Queries[24] says, "A Nottinghamshire maid-servant tells me:—'One of my mistresses was brought up at Ranskill, or not far from there. She used to say that when she and her sister were children they always hid under the nurse's cloak if they went out to a party on S. Thomas's Day. They were told that S. Thomas came down at that time and sat on the steeple of the church.'"
A writer in Notes and Queries[24] says, "A maid from Nottinghamshire told me:—'One of my mistresses grew up in Ranskill, or somewhere nearby. She used to say that when she and her sister were kids, they always hid under the nurse’s cloak if they went out to a party on St. Thomas's Day. They were told that St. Thomas came down at that time and sat on the church steeple.'"
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CHAPTER 7 Paddington Charity (Bread and Cheese Lands)—Barring-out at Schools—Interesting narrative. |
Until Christmas eve there is nothing remarkable about this Novena of Christ-tide, excepting a curious charitable custom which used to obtain in the parish of Paddington, which may be well described by a quotation from the London Magazine (December 1737, p. 705).
Until Christmas Eve, there’s nothing special about this Novena of Christmas, except for an interesting charitable tradition that used to exist in the Paddington parish, best described by a quote from the London Magazine (December 1737, p. 705).
"Sunday, December 18, 1737. This day, according to annual custom, bread and cheese were thrown from Paddington steeple to the populace, agreeable to the will of two women, who were relieved there with bread and cheese when they were almost starved; and Providence afterwards favouring them, they left an estate in that parish to continue the custom for ever on that day."
"Sunday, December 18, 1737. Today, as is the yearly tradition, bread and cheese were tossed from the Paddington steeple to the crowd below, according to the wishes of two women who were provided with bread and cheese when they were nearly starving; and since Providence favored them afterward, they left a property in that parish to keep this tradition alive forever on this day."
Three pieces of land situated in the parish were certainly left by two maiden ladies, whose names are unknown, and their charity was distributed as described until the Sunday before Christmas 1834, when the bread and cheese (consisting of three or four dozen penny rolls, and the same quantity of pieces of cheese) were thrown for the last time from the belfry of St. Mary's Church by Mr. Wm. Hogg, the parish clerk. After that date the rents arising from these "bread and cheese lands," as they are called, were distributed in the shape of bread, coals, and blankets, to poor families inhabiting the parish, of whom a list was made out annually for the churchwardens, stating their residence and occupation, and the number of children under ten years of age. Subsequently the Court of Chancery assented to[Pg 54] a scheme whereby the rents are portioned amongst the national schools, etc.
Three pieces of land in the parish were definitely left by two unmarried women, whose names are unknown, and their charity was distributed as described until the Sunday before Christmas in 1834, when the bread and cheese (made up of three or four dozen penny rolls and the same amount of cheese) were tossed for the last time from the belfry of St. Mary's Church by Mr. Wm. Hogg, the parish clerk. After that date, the income from these "bread and cheese lands," as they are known, was distributed in the form of bread, coal, and blankets to poor families living in the parish. An annual list was made for the churchwardens, showing the families' addresses, occupations, and the number of children under ten. Later, the Court of Chancery agreed to[Pg 54]a plan that distributes the rents among national schools, etc.
A curious custom used to obtain in some schools just before the Christmas holidays, of barring-out the master, and keeping him out of the schoolroom until the boys' grievances had been listened to and promise of redress given; and the best account of this custom that I have ever met with is in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1828, vol. ii. p. 404, etc.
A curious tradition used to exist in some schools just before the Christmas holidays, where the students would barr out the teacher and keep him from entering the classroom until their complaints were heard and a promise of resolution was made; and the best explanation of this tradition that I have come across is in the Gentleman's Magazine from 1828, vol. ii. p. 404, etc.
"It was a few days before the usual period of the Christmas Holidays arrived, when the leading scholars of the head form determined on reviving the ancient but obsolete custom of barring-out the master of the school. Many years had elapsed since the attempt had succeeded; and many times since that period had it been made in vain. The scholars had heard of the glorious feats of their forefathers in their boyish years, when they set the lash of the master at defiance for days together. Now, alas! all was changed; the master, in the opinion of the boys, reigned a despot absolute and uncontrolled; the merciless cruelty of his rod, and the heaviness of his tasks, were insupportable. The accustomed holidays had been rescinded; the usual Christmas feast reduced to a non-entity, and the chartered rights of the scholars were continually violated. These grievances were discussed seriatim; and we were all unanimously of opinion that our wrongs should, if possible, be redressed. But how the object should be effected was a momentous and weighty affair. The master was a clergyman of the old school, who for the last forty years had exercised an authority hitherto uncontrolled, and who had no idea of enforcing scholastic discipline without the exercise of the whip. The consequences of a failure were terrible to think upon; but then the anticipation of success, and the glory attendant upon the enterprise, if successful, were sufficient to dispel every fear.
"It was a few days before the usual Christmas holiday period when the top students of the head class decided to bring back the old but outdated tradition of barring-out the schoolmaster. Many years had passed since this had been successfully attempted; and many times since then it had been tried in vain. The students had heard about the glorious exploits of their predecessors in their younger days when they defiantly resisted the master's authority for days on end. Now, sadly, everything had changed; the master, in the eyes of the boys, ruled like an absolute dictator; the relentless punishment of his rod and the heavy burdens of his tasks were unbearable. The usual holidays had been canceled; the traditional Christmas feast had become nonexistent, and the established rights of the students were constantly being violated. These grievances were discussed seriatim; and we all agreed that our wrongs should, if possible, be rectified. But figuring out how to achieve this was a serious and significant matter. The master was an old-school clergyman who had exercised unchecked authority for the past forty years and had no idea of imposing school discipline without using the whip. The consequences of failure were frightening to consider; but then the thought of success and the glory that would come with it, if we were successful, was enough to chase away any fear."
"At the head of the Greek class was one whose very soul seemed formed for the most daring attempts. He communicated his intentions to a chosen few, of which the writer was one, and offered to be the leader of the undertaking if we would promise him our support. We hesitated; but[Pg 55] he represented the certainty of success with such feeling eloquence that he entirely subdued our opposition. He stated that Addison had acquired immortal fame by a similar enterprise. He told us that almost every effort in the sacred cause of freedom had succeeded. He appealed to our classical recollections:—Epaminondas and Leonidas were worthy of our example; Tarquin and Cæsar, as tyrants, had fallen before the united efforts of freedom; we had only to be unanimous, and the rod of this scholastic despot would be for ever broken. We then entered enthusiastically into his views. He observed that delays were dangerous; 'the barring-out,' he said, 'should take place the very next morning to prevent the possibility of being betrayed.' On a previous occasion (he said), some officious little urchin had told the master the whole plot, several days having been allowed to intervene between the planning of the project and its execution, and, to the astonishment of the boys, it appeared they found the master at his desk two hours before his usual time, and had the mortification of being congratulated on their early attendance, with an order to be there every morning at the same hour!
"At the front of the Greek class was someone whose spirit seemed made for the boldest challenges. He shared his plans with a select few, including me, and offered to lead the mission if we promised to support him. We were uncertain; but he convinced us of the likelihood of success with such passionate words that he completely silenced our doubts. He pointed out that Addison had gained lasting fame through a similar endeavor. He reminded us that nearly every effort for freedom had triumphed. He invoked our classical memories: Epaminondas and Leonidas were examples worth following; Tarquin and Caesar, as tyrants, had fallen to the united force of freedom; all we needed was to stand together, and the power of this school tyrant would be permanently shattered. We then eagerly embraced his ideas. He warned that delays could be dangerous; 'the barring-out,' he said, 'should happen first thing tomorrow morning to avoid being betrayed.' He recounted how, on a prior occasion, an eager little kid had spilled the whole plan to the teacher, as days had passed between the scheme's conception and its execution, and to everyone's surprise, they found the teacher at his desk two hours earlier than usual, and they faced the humiliation of being praised for their early arrival, along with an order to show up every morning at the same time!"
"To prevent the occurrence of such a defeat we determined on organising our plans that very night. The boys were accordingly told to assemble after school hours at a well-known tombstone in the neighbouring Churchyard, as something of importance was under consideration. The place of meeting was an elevated parallelogram tombstone, which had always served as a kind of council table to settle our little disputes as well as parties of pleasure. Here we all assembled at the appointed time. Our leader took his stand at one end of the stone, with the head boys who were in the secret on each side of him. 'My boys (he laconically observed), to-morrow morning we are to bar-out the flogging parson, and to make him promise that he will not flog us hereafter without a cause, nor set us long tasks or deprive us of our holidays. The boys of the Greek form will be your Captains, and I am to be your Captain-General. Those that are cowards had better retire and be satisfied with future floggings; but you, who have courage, and know what it is to have been flogged for[Pg 56] nothing, come here and sign your names.' He immediately pulled out a pen and a sheet of paper; and having tied some bits of thread round the finger-ends of two or three boys, with a pin he drew blood to answer for ink, and to give more solemnity to the act. He signed the first, the Captains next, and the rest in succession. Many of the lesser boys slunk away during the ceremony; but on counting the names we found we mustered upwards of forty—sufficient, it was imagined, even to carry the school by storm. The Captain-General then addressed us: 'I have the key of the school, and shall be there at seven o'clock. The old Parson will arrive at nine, and every one of you must be there before eight to allow us one hour for barricading the doors and windows. Bring with you as much provision as you can; and tell your parents that you have to take your dinners in school. Let every one of you have some weapon of defence; you who cannot obtain a sword, pistol, or poker, must bring a stick or cudgel. Now, all go home directly, and be sure to arrive early in the morning.'
"To avoid facing such a defeat, we decided to organize our plans that very night. The boys were instructed to meet after school at a well-known tombstone in the nearby churchyard, as we had something important to discuss. The meeting spot was a raised rectangular tombstone, which had always served as a sort of council table for settling our little disputes and planning our fun times. We all gathered at the designated time. Our leader stood at one end of the stone, flanked by the head boys who were in on the plan. 'My boys,' he said briefly, 'tomorrow morning we're going to bar-out the flogging parson and make him promise he won't flog us anymore without a reason, won't give us long assignments, or take away our holidays. The boys from the Greek form will be your Captains, and I’ll be your Captain-General. If any of you are cowards, you might as well leave and accept whatever floggings come your way; but for those who have the guts, and know what it's like to be punished for[Pg 56] nothing, come here and sign your names.' He then pulled out a pen and a piece of paper; after tying bits of thread around the fingers of two or three boys, he pricked them with a pin to draw blood for ink, adding a solemn touch to the act. He signed first, then the Captains, followed by the rest of us. Many of the younger boys slipped away during the ceremony, but when we counted the names, we had over forty—enough, we thought, to take the school by storm. The Captain-General then spoke to us: 'I have the key to the school and will be there at seven o’clock. The old parson will arrive at nine, and all of you need to be there before eight to give us an hour to barricade the doors and windows. Bring as much food as you can, and tell your parents you’ll be having lunch at school. Make sure each of you has some kind of weapon for defense; if you can’t get a sword, pistol, or poker, bring a stick or club instead. Now, everyone go home right away, and make sure to arrive early in the morning.'”
"Perhaps a more restless and anxious night was never passed by young recruits on the eve of a general battle. Many of us rose some hours before the time; and at seven o'clock, when the school door was opened, there was a tolerably numerous muster. Our Captain immediately ordered candles to be lighted, and a rousing fire to be made (for it was a dark December's morning). He then began to examine the store of provisions, and the arms which each had brought. In the meantime, the arrival of every boy with additional material was announced by tremendous cheers.
"Maybe no night was ever more restless and anxious for young recruits than the night before a major battle. Many of us got up a few hours early; and at seven o'clock, when the school door opened, there was a pretty good turnout. Our Captain quickly had candles lit and a roaring fire started (since it was a dark December morning). He then started checking the supplies and the weapons that everyone had brought. Meanwhile, every boy who arrived with extra gear was greeted with loud cheers."
"At length the Church Clock struck eight. 'Proceed to barricade the doors and windows,' exclaimed the Captain, 'or the old lion will be upon us before we are prepared to meet him.' In an instant the old oaken door rang on its heavy hinges. Some, with hammers, gimlets, and nails, were eagerly securing the windows, while others were dragging along the ponderous desks, forms, and everything portable, to blockade, with certain security, every place which might admit of ingress. This operation being completed, the Captain mounted the master's rostrum, and called over the list of names, when he[Pg 57] found only two or three missing. He then proceeded to classify them into divisions, or companies of six, and assigned to each its respective Captain. He prescribed the duties of each company. Two were to guard the large casement window, where, it was expected, the first attack would be made; this was considered the post of honour, and, consequently, the strongest boys, with the most formidable weapons, were selected, whom we called Grenadiers. Another company, whom we considered as the Light Infantry, or Sharp Shooters, were ordered to mount a large desk in the centre of the School; and, armed with squibs, crackers, and various missiles, they were to attack the enemy over the heads of the Combatants. The other divisions were to guard the back windows and door, and to act according to the emergency of the moment. Our leader then moved some resolutions (which, in imitation of Brutus, he had cogitated during the previous night), to the effect that each individual should implicitly obey his own Captain; that each Captain should follow the orders of the Captain-general, and that a corps de réserve should be stationed in the rear, to enforce this obedience, and prevent the combatants from taking to flight. The resolutions were passed amid loud vociferations.
At last, the Church Clock struck eight. "Block the doors and windows!" shouted the Captain, "or the old lion will attack us before we’re ready." In an instant, the heavy oak door creaked on its sturdy hinges. Some were hastily nailing up the windows with hammers and screws, while others were dragging desks, benches, and anything movable to barricade any entrance that could let in an intruder. Once this was done, the Captain climbed onto the master’s platform and went through the list of names, finding only two or three missing. He then organized them into groups of six and assigned each a Captain. He laid out each group's tasks. Two were to guard the large window where the first attack was expected; this was seen as the most important position, so the strongest boys with the best weapons were chosen, and we called them Grenadiers. Another group, considered the Light Infantry or Sharpshooters, was told to mount a large desk in the center of the School; armed with firecrackers and various projectiles, they were to attack the enemy from behind the Combatants. The other divisions were to guard the back windows and door and react as the situation called for. Our leader then proposed some resolutions (which, like Brutus, he had thought about the night before) stating that everyone should obey their Captain without question; that each Captain should follow the orders of the main Captain, and that a reserve force should be stationed in the back to ensure this obedience and prevent the fighters from fleeing. The resolutions were approved with loud cheers.
"We next commenced an examination of the various weapons, and found them to consist of one old blunderbuss, one pistol, two old swords, a few rusty pokers, and sticks, stones, squibs, and gunpowder in abundance. The firearms were immediately loaded with blank powder; the swords were sharpened, and the pokers heated in the fire. These weapons were assigned to the most daring company, who had to protect the principal window. The missiles were for the light infantry, and all the rest were armed with sticks.
"We then started to check out the different weapons and discovered that they included one old blunderbuss, one pistol, two old swords, a few rusty pokers, and plenty of sticks, stones, fireworks, and gunpowder. The firearms were quickly loaded with blank powder; the swords were sharpened, and the pokers were heated in the fire. These weapons were given to the bravest group, who were tasked with guarding the main window. The projectiles were for the light infantry, and everyone else was armed with sticks."
"We now began to manœuvre our companies, by marching them into line and column, so that every one might know his own situation. In the midst of this preparation, the sentinel whom we had placed at the window, loudly vociferated, 'The parson! The parson's coming!'
"We started to organize our companies, lining them up and forming columns, so everyone would understand their position. In the middle of this setup, the guard we had stationed at the window shouted, 'The parson! The parson's coming!'"
"In an instant all was confusion. Every one ran he knew not where; as if eager to fly, or screen himself from observation. Our captain immediately mounted a form, and called to the captains of the two leading companies to take their[Pg 58] stations. They immediately obeyed; and the other companies followed their example; though they found it much more difficult to manœuvre when danger approached than they had a few minutes before! The well-known footstep, which had often struck on our ears with terror, was now heard to advance along the portico. The muttering of his stern voice sounded in our ears like the lion's growl. A death-like silence prevailed: we scarcely dared to breathe: the palpitations of our little hearts could, perhaps, alone be heard. The object of our dread then went round to the front window, for the purpose of ascertaining whether any one was in the school. Every footstep struck us with awe: not a word, not a whisper was heard. He approached close to the window; and with an astonished countenance stood gazing upon us, while we were ranged in battle array, motionless statues, and silent as the tomb. 'What is the meaning of this?' he impatiently exclaimed. But no answer could he obtain, for who would then have dared to render himself conspicuous by a reply? Pallid countenances and livid lips betrayed our fears. The courage, which one hour before was ready to brave every danger, appeared to be fled. Every one seemed anxious to conceal himself from view: and there would, certainly, have been a general flight through the back windows had it not been for the prudent regulation of a corps de réserve, armed with cudgels, to prevent it.
In an instant, everything was chaos. Everyone ran, not knowing where, as if desperate to escape or hide from sight. Our captain quickly climbed up on a platform and called for the leaders of the two front companies to take their[Pg 58] positions. They immediately complied, and the other companies followed their lead, even though they found it much harder to maneuver with danger approaching than they had just a few minutes earlier! The familiar footsteps, which had often struck fear into us, were now heard approaching along the porch. The low rumble of his stern voice sounded in our ears like a lion’s growl. A deathly silence hung in the air: we hardly dared to breathe; the rapid beating of our hearts could perhaps be the only sound heard. The source of our fear then moved to the front window to check if anyone was inside the school. Every footstep filled us with dread: not a word, not a whisper was spoken. He came right up to the window and, with a bewildered expression, stood staring at us as we lined up like statues, motionless and silent as the grave. “What’s going on here?” he called out impatiently. But no one answered; who would have dared to stand out by replying? Our pale faces and ashen lips revealed our fear. The courage that just an hour ago was ready to face anything now seemed to vanish. Everyone appeared eager to hide from view, and there would definitely have been a mass escape through the back windows if not for the wise decision to have a corps de réserve, armed with clubs, to prevent it.
"'You young scoundrels, open the door instantly,' he again exclaimed; and, what added to our indescribable horror, in a fit of rage he dashed his hand through the window, which consisted of diamond-shaped panes, and appeared as if determined to force his way in.
"'You young troublemakers, open the door right now,' he shouted again; and, to our utter horror, in a fit of rage, he smashed his hand through the window, which had diamond-shaped panes, and seemed determined to break his way in.
"Fear and trepidation, attended by an increasing commotion, now possessed us all. At this critical moment every eye turned to our captain, as if to reproach him for having brought us into this terrible dilemma. He alone stood unmoved; but he saw that none would have courage to obey his commands. Some exciting stimulus was necessary. Suddenly waving his hand, he exclaimed aloud, 'Three cheers for the barring-out, and success to our cause!' The cheers were tremendous; our courage revived; the blood flushed in our cheeks; the parson was breaking in; the moment was critical. Our[Pg 59] Captain, undaunted, sprang to the fire-place—seized a heated poker in one hand, and a blazing torch in the other. The latter he gave to the captain of the sharp shooters, and told him to prepare a volley; when, with red-hot poker, he fearlessly advanced to the window seat; and, daring his master to enter, he ordered an attack—and an attack, indeed, was made, sufficiently tremendous to have repelled a more powerful assailant. The missiles flew at the ill-fated window from every quarter. The blunderbuss and the pistol were fired; squibs and crackers, inkstands and rulers, stones, and even burning coals, came in showers about the casement, and broke some of the panes into a thousand pieces; while blazing torches, heated pokers, and sticks, stood bristling under the window. The whole was scarcely the work of a minute: the astonished master reeled back in dumb amazement. He had, evidently, been struck with a missile or with the broken glass; and probably fancied that he had been wounded by the firearms. The schools now rang with the shouts of 'Victory,' and continued cheering. 'The enemy again approaches,' cried the captain; 'fire another volley;—stay, he seeks a parley—hear him.' 'What is the meaning, I say, of this horrid tumult?' 'The barring-out, the barring-out!' a dozen voices instantly exclaimed. 'For shame,' says he, in a tone evidently subdued; what disgrace are you bringing upon yourselves and the schools. What will the Trustees—what will your parents say? William,' continued he, addressing the captain, 'open the door without further delay.' 'I will, Sir,' he replied, 'on your promising to pardon us, and give us our lawful holidays, of which we have lately been deprived; and not set us tasks during the holidays.' 'Yes, yes,' said several squealing voices, 'that is what we want; and not to be flogged for nothing.' 'You insolent scoundrels! you consummate young villains!' he exclaimed, choking with rage, and at the same time making a furious effort to break through the already shattered window, 'open the door instantly, or I'll break every bone in your hides.' 'Not on those conditions,' replied our Captain, with provoking coolness;—'Come on, my boys, another volley.' No sooner said than done, and even with more fury than before. Like men driven to despair, who expect no quarter on surrendering, the little[Pg 60] urchins daringly mounted the window seat, which was a broad, old-fashioned one, and pointed the fire arms and heated poker at him; whilst others advanced with the squibs and missiles. 'Come on, my lads,' said the captain, 'let this be our Thermopylæ, and I will be your Leonidas.' And, indeed, so daring were they, that each seemed ready to emulate the Spartans of old. The master, perceiving their determined obstinacy, turned round, without further remonstrance, and indignantly walked away.
"Fear and anxiety, along with a growing noise, took hold of us all. At that moment, every eye was on our captain, almost as if blaming him for putting us in this terrible situation. He stood firm, but he realized that no one had the courage to follow his orders. Something was needed to boost our spirits. Suddenly, he waved his hand and shouted, 'Three cheers for our defense, and success to our cause!' The cheers were thunderous; our courage was reignited; blood rushed to our cheeks; the preacher was breaking in; it was a critical moment. Our[Pg 59] Captain, undeterred, jumped to the fireplace—grabbed a hot poker in one hand and a flaming torch in the other. He handed the torch to the leader of the marksmen and instructed him to prepare a volley; then, with the red-hot poker, he boldly moved to the window seat, daring his master to enter, and ordered an attack—and an attack was launched, powerful enough to fend off a stronger foe. Missiles rained down on the unfortunate window from all directions. The blunderbuss and the pistol were fired; squibs and firecrackers, inkstands and rulers, stones, and even burning coals came pouring in, shattering some panes into a thousand pieces, while blazing torches, heated pokers, and sticks were thrust under the window. The entire scene unfolded in less than a minute: the stunned master staggered back in silent disbelief. He had obviously been hit by a missile or the broken glass; he probably thought he had been injured by the gunfire. The schools echoed with cries of 'Victory,' and the cheering continued. 'The enemy approaches again,' shouted the captain; 'fire another volley;—wait, he wants to talk—let's hear him.' 'What is the meaning of this horrible racket?' 'The barring-out, the barring-out!' shouted a dozen voices instantly. 'Shame on you,' he said, his tone clearly subdued; 'what disgrace are you bringing upon yourselves and the schools? What will the Trustees—what will your parents say? William,' he added, addressing the captain, 'open the door immediately.' 'I will, Sir,' he replied, 'if you promise to forgive us and give us our rightful holidays, which we have recently been denied; and not to give us work during the holidays.' 'Yes, yes,' said several squeaky voices, 'that's what we want; and we don’t want to be punished for no reason.' 'You insolent brats! you complete young rascals!' he yelled, choking with rage, and at the same time making a furious attempt to break through the already shattered window, 'open the door right now, or I'll break every bone in your bodies.' 'Not on those terms,' replied our Captain coolly;—'Come on, boys, another volley.' No sooner said than done, and even more fiercely than before. Like men driven to desperation who expect no mercy, the little[Pg 60] kids boldly climbed onto the window seat, which was a wide, old-fashioned one, pointing the firearms and heated poker at him; while others advanced with squibs and missiles. 'Come on, lads,' said the captain, 'let this be our Thermopylæ, and I will be your Leonidas.' And indeed, they were so fearless that each looked ready to match the Spartans of old. The master, seeing their determined defiance, turned around, without further protest, and walked away in anger."
"Relieved from our terrors, we now became intoxicated with joy. The walls rang with repeated hurrahs! In the madness of enthusiasm, some of the boys began to tear up the forms, throw the books about, break the slates, locks, and cupboards, and act so outrageously that the captain called them to order; not, however, before the master's desk and drawers had been broken open, and every play thing which had been taken from the scholars restored to its owner.
"Free from our fears, we were now overwhelmed with joy. The walls echoed with cheers! In the frenzy of excitement, some of the boys started ripping up the seats, tossing books around, breaking slates, locks, and cupboards, and behaving so wildly that the captain had to intervene; but not before the master’s desk and drawers had been broken open, and every toy that had been taken from the students was returned to its owner."
"We now began to think of provisions. They were all placed on one table and dealt out in rations by the Captains of each company. In the meantime, we held a council of war, as we called it, to determine on what was to be done.
"We started thinking about supplies. Everything was laid out on one table and distributed in rations by the Captains of each company. In the meantime, we held a war council, as we called it, to decide what to do next."
"In a recess at the east end of the school there stood a large oak chest, black with age, whose heavy hinges had become corroded with years of rust. It was known to contain the records and endowments of the school; and, as we presumed, the regulations for the treatment of the scholars. The oldest boy had never seen its inside. Attempts, dictated by insatiable curiosity, had often been made to open it; but it was deemed impregnable. It was guarded by three immense locks, and each key was in the possession of different persons. The wood appeared to be nearly half a foot thick, and every corner was plaited with iron. All eyes were instinctively directed to this mysterious chest. Could any means be devised for effecting an entrance? was the natural question. We all proceeded to reconnoitre; we attempted to move it, but in vain: we made some feeble efforts to force the lid; it was firm as a block of marble. At length, one daring urchin brought, from the fire-place, a red-hot poker, and began to bore through its sides. A universal shout was given. Other pokers were brought, and to work they went. The smoke[Pg 61] and tremendous smell which the old wood sent forth rather alarmed us. We were apprehensive that we might burn the records instead of obtaining a copy of them. This arrested our progress for a few minutes.
"In a small space at the east end of the school, there was a large oak chest, blackened by age, with heavy hinges that had rusted over the years. It was known to hold the school's records and funds, and we assumed it also contained the rules for how the students should be treated. The oldest boy had never seen inside it. Out of relentless curiosity, there had been many attempts to open it, but it was considered impossible. It was secured with three huge locks, and each key was held by different people. The wood was about half a foot thick, and every corner was reinforced with iron. Everyone's attention was drawn to this mysterious chest. The natural question was, could any way be found to get inside? We all set out to investigate; we tried to move it, but it wouldn’t budge. We made some weak attempts to force the lid open; it was as solid as a block of marble. Finally, one brave kid brought a red-hot poker from the fireplace and started to poke through its sides. A loud cheer went up. Other pokers joined in, and soon we were all working on it. The smoke[Pg 61] and strong smell coming from the old wood worried us a bit. We feared we might end up burning the records instead of getting a copy of them. This slowed us down for a few minutes."
"At this critical moment a shout was set up that the parson and a constable was coming! Down went the pokers; and, as if conscience-stricken, we were all seized with consternation. The casement window was so shattered that it could easily be entered by any resolute fellow. In the desperation of the moment we seized the desks, forms, and stools to block it up; but, in some degree, our courage had evaporated, and we felt reluctant to act on the offensive. The old gentleman and his attendant deliberately inspected the windows and fastenings: but, without making any attempt to enter, they retreated for the purpose, we presumed, of obtaining additional assistance. What was now to be done? The master appeared obdurate, and we had gone too far to recede. Some proposed to drill a hole in the window seat, fill it with gunpowder, and explode it if any one attempted to enter. Others thought we had better prepare to set fire to the school sooner than surrender unconditionally. But the majority advised what was, perhaps, the most prudent resolution, to wait for another attack; and, if we saw no hopes of sustaining a longer defence, to make the best retreat we could.
"At this critical moment, someone shouted that the pastor and a police officer were coming! Down went the pokers, and, as if feeling guilty, we were all hit with panic. The window was so broken that anyone determined could easily get in. In our desperation, we grabbed the desks, benches, and stools to block it up; however, our courage had somewhat disappeared, and we hesitated to take offensive action. The old man and his companion carefully checked the windows and locks, but without trying to get in, they left, presumably to get more help. What were we supposed to do now? The master seemed stubborn, and we had gone too far to back down. Some suggested drilling a hole in the window seat, filling it with gunpowder, and blowing it up if anyone tried to come in. Others thought it would be better to prepare to burn down the school rather than surrender without a fight. But the majority suggested what was probably the wisest choice: to wait for another attack, and if we saw no chance of holding out longer, to make the best escape we could."
"The affair of the Barring Out had now become known, and persons began to assemble round the windows, calling out that the master was coming with assistance, and saying everything to intimidate us. Many of us were completely jaded with the over-excitement we had experienced since the previous evening. The school was hot, close, and full of smoke. Some were longing for liberty and fresh air; and most of us were now of opinion that we had engaged in an affair which it was impossible to accomplish. In this state of mind we received another visit from our dreaded master. With his stick he commenced a more furious attack than before; and, observing us less turbulent, he appeared determined to force his way in spite of the barricadoes. The younger boys thought of nothing but flight and self-preservation, and the rush to the back windows became general. In the midst of[Pg 62] this consternation our Captain exclaims, 'Let us not fly like cowards; if we must surrender, let the gates of the citadel be thrown open: the day is against us; but let us bravely face the enemy, and march out with the honours of war.' Some few had already escaped; but the rest immediately ranged themselves on each side of the school, in two extended lines, with their weapons in hand. The door was thrown open—the master instantly entered, and passed between the two lines, denouncing vengeance on us all. But, as he marched in we marched out in military order; and, giving three cheers, we dispersed into the neighbouring fields.
"The situation with the Barring Out had become widely known, and people started gathering around the windows, shouting that the master was coming with help and saying anything to scare us. Many of us were completely worn out from the excitement we had experienced since the previous evening. The school was hot, stuffy, and full of smoke. Some were yearning for freedom and fresh air; most of us now believed we had taken on something impossible to achieve. In this mindset, we received another visit from our feared master. With his stick, he launched a more aggressive attack than before; noticing we were less rowdy, he seemed determined to force his way in despite the barricades. The younger boys focused solely on escaping and self-preservation, and the rush to the back windows became widespread. Amidst this confusion, our Captain shouted, 'Let’s not flee like cowards; if we must surrender, let the gates of the citadel be thrown open: the day is against us; but let’s bravely face the enemy and march out with our heads held high.' A few had already gotten away; but the rest quickly lined up on each side of the school, in two long lines, with their makeshift weapons ready. The door swung open—the master immediately came in, passing between the two lines, threatening us all. But as he marched in, we marched out in military formation; and, giving three cheers, we scattered into the nearby fields."
"We shortly met again, and, after a little consultation, it was determined that none of the leaders should come to school until sent for, and a free pardon given.
"We met again soon, and after a brief discussion, it was decided that none of the leaders should come to school until they were summoned, and a full pardon was granted."
"The defection, however, was so general that no corporal punishments took place. Many of the boys did not return till after the holidays: and several of the elder ones never entered the school again."
"The defection, however, was so widespread that no corporal punishments occurred. Many of the boys didn't come back until after the holidays, and several of the older ones never returned to school again."
This curious custom can hardly be considered as dead, for a writer, mentioning it in Notes and Queries for December 22, 1888 (7th series, vi. p. 484), says: "This old custom, strange to say, still exists, in spite of the schoolmaster and the Board School. It may be of interest to some of your readers if I give an extract from a letter to the Dalston (Carlisle) School Board in reference to this subject, received at their last meeting on December 7th. 'I would ask the sanction of the Board for the closing of the school for the Vacation on the evening of Thursday the 20th. If we open on the Friday we shall, most likely, have a poor attendance. My principal reason for asking is that we should be thus better able to effectually put a stop to the old barbarous custom of Barring Out. Some of the children might possibly be persuaded by outsiders to make the attempt on Friday, and in such a case I should feel it my duty to inflict an amount of castigation on offenders such as neither they nor myself would relish.'
This unusual tradition can hardly be considered dead, as a writer mentions it in Notes and Queries for December 22, 1888 (7th series, vi. p. 484), stating: "This old custom, oddly enough, still exists, despite the schoolmaster and the Board School. It might interest some of your readers if I share an excerpt from a letter sent to the Dalston (Carlisle) School Board regarding this matter, received at their last meeting on December 7th. 'I would like to request the Board's approval to close the school for Vacation on the evening of Thursday the 20th. If we open on Friday, we will most likely have a low attendance. My main reason for this request is that it would help us effectively put an end to the old barbaric custom of Barring Out. Some children might be persuaded by outsiders to attempt it on Friday, and in that case, I would feel it necessary to impose a level of punishment on offenders that neither they nor I would appreciate.'"
"The majority of the Board sympathised with the Master's difficulty and granted his request; though as Chairman I expressed my curiosity to see the repetition of a custom I had heard so much about."
"The majority of the Board understood the Master's difficulty and approved his request; however, as Chairman, I expressed my interest in seeing the continuation of a tradition I had heard so much about."
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CHAPTER 8 The Bellman—Descriptions of him—His verses. The Waits—Their origin—Ned Ward on them—Corporation Waits—York Waits (17th Century)—Essay on Waits—Westminster Waits—Modern Waits. |
Before the advent of Christmas the Bellman, or Watchman, left at each house a copy of verses ostensibly breathing good-will and a happy Christmas to the occupants, but in reality as a reminder to them of his existence, and that he would call in due time for his Christmas box. The date of the institution of the Bellman is not well defined. In Tegg's Dictionary of Chronology, 1530 is given, but no authority for the statement is adduced; Machyn, in his diary, is more definite "[the xij. day of January 1556-7, in Alderman Draper's ward called] chordwenerstrett ward, a belle man [went about] with a belle at evere lane, and at the ward [end to] gyff warnyng of ffyre and candyll lyght, [and to help the] poure, and pray for the ded." Their cry being, "Take care of your fire and candle, be charitable to the poor, and pray for the dead."
Before Christmas came around, the Bellman, or Watchman, would leave a copy of verses at each house, wishing the residents a happy Christmas and good cheer. However, it really served as a reminder that he would be back to collect his Christmas box. The exact date when the Bellman tradition started isn't clear. Tegg's Dictionary of Chronology mentions 1530, but doesn't provide a source for that claim. Machyn, in his diary, is more specific: "[on the twelfth day of January 1556-7, in Alderman Draper's ward called] chordwenerstrett ward, a bellman [went around] with a bell at every lane, and at the ward [end to] give warning of fire and candlelight, [and to help the] poor, and pray for the dead." Their message was, "Take care of your fire and candle, be charitable to the poor, and pray for the dead."
Shakespeare knew him, for in Macbeth (Act II. sc. 2) he says:
Shakespeare knew him, for in Macbeth (Act II, sc. 2) he says:
It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bell man, Which gives the stern'st good night. |
And Milton mentions him in Il Penseroso:
And Milton mentions him in Il Penseroso:
Or the bellman's drowsy charm, To bless the doors from nightly harm. |
Herrick also celebrates The Bellman:
Herrick also celebrates The Bellman:
From noise of Scare-fires rest ye free, [Pg 64]From Murders Benedicite. 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 o'clock, and almost two, My Masters all, Good day to you. |
On the title page of Decker's Belman of London (ed. 1608) we have a woodcut giving a vivid portrait of the Bellman going his nightly rounds with his pike upon his shoulder, a horn lanthorn, with a candle inside, in one hand, and his bell, which is attached by a strap to his girdle, in the other hand, his faithful dog following him in his nightly rounds. In his Lanthorne and Candle light; or The Bell-man's second Night's walke, ed. 1608, the title page gives us a totally different type of Bellman, carrying both bell and lanthorn, but bearing no pike, nor is he accompanied by a dog. In his O per se O, ed. 1612, is another type of Bellman, with lanthorn, bell, and brown bill on his shoulder, but no dog. And in his Villanies Discovered by Lanthorne and Candle Light, etc., ed. 1620, we have two more and yet different Bellmen, one with bell, lanthorn, and bill, followed by a dog; the other (a very rough wood cut) does not give him his four-footed friend. This is the heading to the "Belman's Cry":
On the title page of Decker's Belman of London (ed. 1608), we see a woodcut that vividly portrays the Bellman on his nightly rounds, with a pike over his shoulder, a horn lantern containing a candle in one hand, and his bell, attached by a strap to his belt, in the other hand, while his loyal dog follows him on his nightly journey. In his Lanthorne and Candle light; or The Bell-man's second Night's walke, ed. 1608, the title page presents a completely different Bellman, carrying both the bell and lantern but without a pike and not accompanied by a dog. In his O per se O, ed. 1612, there’s another version of the Bellman, with a lantern, bell, and a brown bill on his shoulder, but without a dog. In his Villanies Discovered by Lanthorne and Candle Light, etc., ed. 1620, we encounter two more different Bellmen: one with a bell, lantern, and bill, accompanied by a dog; the other (a very rough woodcut) does not feature his four-legged companion. This is the heading to the "Belman's Cry":
Men and Children, Maides and Wives, 'Tis not late to mend your lives: Understood. Please provide the text you would like me to modernize. When you heare this ringing Bell, Think it is your latest knell: When I cry, Maide in your Smocke, Doe not take it for a mocke: Well I meane, if well 'tis taken, I would have you still awaken: Foure a Clocke, the Cock is crowing I must to my home be going: When all other men doe rise, Then must I shut up mine eyes. |
He was a person of such importance, that in 1716 Vincent Bourne composed a long Latin poem in praise of one of the fraternity: "Ad Davidem Cook, Westmonasterii Custodem[Pg 65] Nocturnum et Vigilantissimum," a translation of which runs thus, in the last few lines:
He was such an important person that in 1716, Vincent Bourne wrote a long Latin poem praising one of the brothers: "Ad Davidem Cook, Westmonasterii Custodem[Pg 65] Nocturnum et Vigilantissimum," a translation of which goes like this in the last few lines:
Should you and your dog ever call at my door, You'll be welcome, I promise you, nobody more. May you call at a thousand each year that you live, A shilling, at least, may each householder give; May the "Merry Old Christmas" you wish us, befal, And your self, and your dog, be the merriest of all! |
At Christ-tide it was their custom to leave a copy of verses, mostly of Scriptural character, and generally very sorry stuff, at every house on their beat, with a view to receiving a Christmas box; and this was an old custom, for Gay notices it in his Trivia (book ii.) written in 1715:
At Christmas time, it was their tradition to leave a copy of verses, mostly from the Bible, and generally not very good, at every house on their route, hoping to get a Christmas gift in return. This was an old tradition, as Gay mentions in his Trivia (book ii.) written in 1715:
Behold that narrow street which steep descends, Whose building to the slimy shore extends; Here Arundel's fam'd structure rear'd its frame, The street, alone, retains the empty name; Where Titian's glowing paint the canvass warm'd, And Raphael's fair design, with judgment, charm'd, Now hangs the bellman's song, and pasted here The coloured prints of Overton appear. |
Another ante-Christmas custom now falling into desuetude is the waits, who originally were musical watchmen, who had to give practical evidence of their vigilance by playing on the hautboy, or flageolet, at stated times during the night. In the household of Edward IV. there is mentioned in the Liber niger Domus Regis, "A Wayte, that nightely from Mychelmas to Shreve Thorsdaye, pipe the watch within this courte fowere tymes; in the Somere nightes three tymes, and maketh bon gayte at every chambre doare and offyce, as well for feare of pyckeres and pillers."[25]
Another Christmas tradition that's fading away is the waits, who started as musical watchmen. They had to show their alertness by playing the hautboy or flageolet at specific times during the night. In Edward IV’s household, it is noted in the Liber niger Domus Regis, "A Wayte, that night from Michaelmas to Shrove Thursday, pipes the watch within this court four times; in the summer nights three times, and makes bon gayte at every chamber door and office, both to deter thieves and robbers." [25]
These waits afterwards became bands of musicians, who were ready to play at any festivities, such as weddings, etc., and almost every city and town had its band of waits; the City of London had its Corporation Waits, which played before the Lord Mayor in his inaugural procession, and at[Pg 66] banquets and other festivities. They wore blue gowns, red sleeves and caps, and every one had a silver collar about his neck. Ned Ward thus describes them in his London Spy (1703).
These waits later became bands of musicians who were ready to perform at any celebrations, like weddings, and nearly every city and town had its own band of waits. The City of London had its Corporation Waits, who played in front of the Lord Mayor during his inauguration parade, and at[Pg 66] banquets and other celebrations. They wore blue robes, red sleeves, and caps, and each of them had a silver collar around their neck. Ned Ward describes them in his London Spy (1703).
"At last bolted out from the corner of a street, with an ignis fatuus dancing before them, a parcel of strange hobgoblins, covered with long frieze rugs and blankets, hooped round with leather girdles from their cruppers to their shoulders, and their noddles buttoned up into caps of martial figure, like a Knight Errant at tilt and tournament, with his wooden head locked in an iron helmet; one, armed, as I thought with a lusty faggot-bat, and the rest with strange wooden weapons in their hands, in the shape of clyster pipes, but as long almost as speaking trumpets. Of a sudden they clapped them to their mouths, and made such a frightful yelling that I thought he would have been dissolving, and the terrible sound of the last trumpet to be within an inch of my ears.... 'Why, what,' says he, 'don't you love musick? These are the topping tooters of the town, and have gowns, silver chains and salaries for playing Lilli-borlero to my Lord Mayor's horse through the City.'"
"Finally, they burst out from the corner of a street, with a flickering light leading the way, a group of bizarre beings, wrapped in long wool blankets and rugs, cinched at the waist with leather belts from their hips to their shoulders, and their heads topped with caps resembling those worn by knights in tournaments, with wooden heads helmeted in iron; one of them seemed to be wielding a hefty stick, while the others held odd wooden implements that looked like enema pipes but were nearly as long as megaphones. Suddenly, they brought these to their mouths and unleashed such a terrifying scream that I thought he might faint, and the dreadful sound of the last trumpet was right by my ears... 'What’s the matter,' he asked, 'don’t you like music? These are the top musicians in the city, and they have gowns, silver chains, and payment for playing Lilli-borlero for my Lord Mayor's horse throughout the City.'"
That these Corporation Waits were no mean musicians we have the authority of Morley, who, in dedicating his Consort Lessons to the Lord Mayor and Aldermen in 1599, says:
That these Corporation Waits were no ordinary musicians is confirmed by Morley, who, in dedicating his Consort Lessons to the Lord Mayor and Aldermen in 1599, says:
"As the ancient custom of this most honourable and renowned city hath been ever to retain and maintain excellent and expert musicians to adorn your Honours' favours, feasts and solemn meetings—to these, your Lordships' Wayts, I recommend the same—to your servants' careful and skilful handling."
"As the long-standing tradition of this prestigious and famous city has always been to keep talented and skilled musicians to enhance your Honors' events, celebrations, and formal gatherings—therefore, I recommend the same to your Lordships' staff for their careful and skillful management."
These concert lessons were arranged for six instruments—viz. two viols (treble and bass), a flute, a cittern (a kind of guitar, strung with wire), a treble lute, and a pandora, which was a large instrument, similar to a lute, but strung with wire in lieu of catgut.
These concert lessons were set up for six instruments—namely, two viols (treble and bass), a flute, a cittern (a type of guitar with wire strings), a treble lute, and a pandora, which was a large instrument like a lute, but strung with wire instead of gut.
The following is a description of the York Waits, end of seventeenth century:
The following is a description of the York Waits, end of the seventeenth century:
In a Winter's morning, Long before the dawning, 'Ere the cock did crow, [Pg 67]Or stars their light withdraw, Wak'd by a hornpipe pretty, Play'd along York City, By th' help of o'er night's bottle Damon made this ditty.... In a winter's night, By moon or lanthorn light, Through hail, rain, frost, or snow Their rounds the music go; Clad each in frieze or blanket (For either, heav'n be thanked), Lin'd with wine a quart, Or ale a double tankard. Burglars send away, And, bar guests dare not stay; Of claret, snoring sots Dream o'er their pipes and pots, Understood! Please provide the text you'd like me to modernize. Candles, four in the pound, Lead up the jolly Round, While Cornet shrill i' th' middle Marches, and merry fiddle, Curtal with deep hum, hum, Cries we come, come, And theorbo loudly answers, Thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum, thrum. But, their fingers frost-nipt, So many notes are o'erslipt, That you'd take sometimes The Waits for the Minster chimes: Then, Sirs, to hear their musick Would make both me and you sick, And much more to hear a roopy fiddler call (With voice, as Moll would cry, "Come, shrimps, or cockles buy"). "Past three, fair frosty morn, Good morrow, my masters all." |
With regard to their modern practice of playing during the night-tide, we find the following explanation in an Essay on the Musical Waits at Christmas, by John Cleland, 1766. Speaking of the Druids, he says: "But, whatever were their reasons for this preference, it is out of doubt that they generally chose the dead of night for the celebration of their greatest solemnities and festivals. Such assemblies, then, whether of religion, of ceremony, or of mere merriment, were promiscuously called Wakes, from their being nocturnal. The master of the Revels (Reveils) would, in good old English, be termed the Master of the Wakes. In short, such nocturnal meetings are the Wakes of the Britons; the Reveillons of the French; the Medianoche of the Spaniards; and the Pervigilia of the Romans. The Custom of Wakes at burials (les vigiles des morts) is at this moment, in many parts, not discontinued.
Regarding their modern practice of playing during the nighttime, we find the following explanation in an Essay on the Musical Waits at Christmas, by John Cleland, 1766. Speaking of the Druids, he says: "But whatever their reasons for this preference, it’s clear that they typically chose the dead of night for their most important ceremonies and festivals. These gatherings, whether religious, ceremonial, or simply for fun, were commonly referred to as Wakes, due to their nighttime nature. The leader of the Revels (Reveils) would, in traditional English, be called the Master of the Wakes. In summary, these nighttime gatherings are the Wakes of the Britons; the Reveillons of the French; the Medianoche of the Spaniards; and the Pervigilia of the Romans. The custom of Wakes at funerals (les vigiles des morts) is still practiced in many areas today."
"But, at the antient Yule (or Christmas time, especially), the dreariness of the weather, the length of the night, would naturally require something extraordinary, to wake and rouse men from their natural inclination to rest, and to a warm bed, at that hour. The summons, then, to the Wakes of that season were given by music, going the rounds of invitation to the mirth or festivals which were awaiting them. In this there was some propriety, some object; but where is there[Pg 68] any in such a solemn piece of banter as that of music going the rounds and disturbing people in vain? For, surely, any meditation to be thereby excited on the holiness of the ensuing day could hardly be of great avail, in a bed, between sleeping and waking. But such is the power of custom to perpetuate absurdities.
"But, during the ancient Yule (or Christmas time, especially), the bleakness of the weather and the long nights naturally called for something extraordinary to wake people up from their natural tendency to rest in a warm bed at that hour. The invitations to the Wakes of that season were announced through music, circulating as an invitation to the joy or festivals that awaited them. There was some sense and purpose in this; but where is there[Pg 68] any in such a serious joke as music going around and disturbing people for no reason? For, certainly, any reflection stirred by this on the holiness of the upcoming day could hardly be of much use while lying in bed, caught between sleeping and waking. But such is the power of tradition to sustain absurdities."
"However, the music was called The Wakeths, and, by the usual tendency of language to euphony, softened into Waits, as workth into wort, or checkths into chess, etc."
"However, the music was called The Wakeths, and, following the natural trend of language toward a more pleasing sound, it softened into Waits, just like workth became wort, or checkths turned into chess, etc."
Another authority, Jones, in his Welsh Bards, 1794, says: "Waits are musicians of the lower order, who commonly perform on Wind instruments, and they play in most towns under the windows of the chief inhabitants, at midnight, a short time before Christmas; for which they collect a Christmas box, from house to house. They are said to derive their name of Waits, for being always in waiting to celebrate weddings and other joyous events happening within their district. There is a building at Newcastle called Waits' Tower, which was, formerly, the meeting-house of the town band of musicians."
Another expert, Jones, in his Welsh Bards, 1794, says: "Waits are musicians of a lower status who usually play wind instruments, and they perform in most towns under the windows of the prominent residents at midnight, shortly before Christmas; for which they collect a Christmas box from house to house. It’s said that they got the name Waits because they are always on standby to celebrate weddings and other joyful occasions in their area. There is a building in Newcastle called Waits' Tower, which used to be the meeting place for the town's band of musicians."
The town waits certainly existed in Westminster as late as 1822, and they were elected by the Court of Burgesses of that city—vide a magazine cutting of that date: "Christmas Waits.—Charles Clapp, Benjamin Jackson, Denis Jelks, and Robert Prinset, were brought to Bow Street Office by O. Bond, the constable, charged with performing on several musical instruments in St. Martin's Lane, at half-past twelve o'clock this morning, by Mr. Munroe, the authorized principal Wait, appointed by the Court of Burgesses for the City and Liberty of Westminster, who alone considers himself entitled, by his appointment, to apply for Christmas boxes. He also urged that the prisoners, acting as Minstrels, came under the meaning of the Vagrant Act, alluded to in the 17th Geo. II.; however, on reference to the last Vagrant Act of the present king, the word 'minstrels' is omitted; consequently, they are no longer cognizable under that Act of Parliament; and, in addition to that, Mr. Charles Clapp, one of the prisoners, produced his indenture of having served seven years as an apprentice to the profession of a musician to Mr. Clay, who held the same appointment as Mr. Munroe does under the[Pg 69] Court of Burgesses. The prisoners were discharged, after receiving an admonition from Mr. Halls, the sitting magistrate, not to collect Christmas boxes."
The town waits definitely existed in Westminster as late as 1822, and they were elected by the Court of Burgesses of that city—see a magazine clipping from that date: "Christmas Waits.—Charles Clapp, Benjamin Jackson, Denis Jelks, and Robert Prinset were taken to Bow Street Office by O. Bond, the constable, charged with performing on several musical instruments in St. Martin's Lane at half-past twelve this morning, by Mr. Munroe, the authorized principal Wait, appointed by the Court of Burgesses for the City and Liberty of Westminster, who considers himself the only one entitled, by his appointment, to ask for Christmas donations. He also argued that the defendants, acting as Minstrels, fell under the Vagrant Act mentioned in the 17th George II; however, upon looking at the latest Vagrant Act of the current king, the term 'minstrels' is not included; therefore, they are no longer covered by that Act of Parliament. Additionally, Mr. Charles Clapp, one of the defendants, presented his indenture showing he served seven years as an apprentice to a musician under Mr. Clay, who held the same position as Mr. Munroe does under the [Pg 69] Court of Burgesses. The defendants were released, after receiving a warning from Mr. Halls, the sitting magistrate, not to collect Christmas donations."
In an article, "Concerning Christmas," in Belgravia (vol. 6, new series, p. 326), we read: "It may not, perhaps, be generally known that, in the year of grace 1871, 'Waits' are regularly sworn before the Court of Burgesses at Westminster, and act under the authority of a warrant, signed by the clerk, and sealed with the arms of the city and liberty; in addition to which they are bound to provide themselves with a silver badge, also bearing the arms of Westminster."
In an article, "Concerning Christmas," in Belgravia (vol. 6, new series, p. 326), we read: "It might not be widely known that, in the year 1871, 'Waits' are officially sworn in before the Court of Burgesses at Westminster, and operate under a warrant, signed by the clerk and sealed with the city’s coat of arms; in addition, they are required to have a silver badge that also features the arms of Westminster."
The modern waits have entirely departed from any pretence of allusion to Christ-tide, and play indifferently the last things out in dance music, operatic airs, or music-hall songs; and they act upon people according to their various temperaments, some liking to "hear the waits," whilst others roundly anathematise them for disturbing their slumbers.
The modern waits have completely abandoned any pretense of connecting to Christmas and play any number of final tunes in dance music, opera songs, or music-hall hits; they affect people based on their different moods, with some enjoying to "hear the waits," while others strongly criticize them for interrupting their sleep.
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CHAPTER 9 Christ-tide Carols—The days of Yule—A Carol for Christ-tide—"Lullaby"—The Cherry-tree Carol—Dives and Lazarus. |
The singing of carols is now confined to Christmas day; but it was not always so, appropriate carols being sung during the Christ-tide preceding the day of the Nativity—such, for instance, as the following examples. The first is taken from Sloane MS. 2593, in the British Museum, and in this one I have preserved the old spelling, which is ascribed to the time of Henry VI. It will be seen that Christ-tide is prolonged till Candlemas day, the Feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary, which is kept on the 2nd of February, on which day all Christ-tide decorations are taken down.
The singing of carols is now limited to Christmas Day, but it wasn't always like that. Appropriate carols were sung during the Christmas season leading up to the day of the Nativity—such as the following examples. The first is taken from Sloane MS. 2593, in the British Museum, and in this one, I’ve kept the old spelling, which dates back to the time of Henry VI. It can be seen that the Christmas season extends until Candlemas Day, the Feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary, which is celebrated on February 2nd, the day on which all Christmas decorations are taken down.
Make we myrth For Crystes byrth, And sing we Yule __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ till Candlemas. The fyrst day of Yule have we in mynd, How God was man born of oure kynd: For he the bondes wold onbynd Of all our sins and wrongdoings. The secund day we syng of Stevene, That stoned and steyyd up even To God that he saw stond in hevyn, And he was crowned for his bravery. The iij day longeth to sent Johan, That was Cristys darlyng, derer non, Whom he betok, whan he shuld gon, [Pg 71]His mother cared for her cleanliness, The iiij day of the chyldren Long, That Herowd to deth had do with wrong, And Crist thei coud non tell with tong, But with their blood, let him be a witness. The v day longeth to sent Thomas,[27] That as a strong pyller of bras, Held up the chyrch, and sclayn he was, For he stayed with righteousness. The viij day tok Jhesu hys name, That saved mankynd fro syn and shame, And circumsysed was for no blame, But for example of Meknes. The xij day offerd to hym kynges iij, Gold, myr, and cence, thes gyftes free, For God, and man, and kyng was he, Thus worshipped they his worthiness. On the xl day cam Mary myld, Unto the temple with hyr chyld, To shew hyr clen that never was fylyd, And thus ends Christmas. |
The following is taken from a MS. of the latter half of the fifteenth century, which Mr. Thomas Wright edited for the Percy Society in 1847. The spelling is even more archaic than the above, so that it is modernised, and a gloss given for all those words which may not be easily understood wherever possible:—
The following is taken from a manuscript from the latter half of the fifteenth century, which Mr. Thomas Wright edited for the Percy Society in 1847. The spelling is even more outdated than the above, so it has been modernized, and definitions are provided for all those words that might not be easily understood wherever possible:—
This endris night__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I saw something amazing, A star as bright as daylight; And always among A girl sang, Lullaby, goodnight, lullaby. The lovely lady sat and sang, and to her Child said— My son, my brother, my father dear, why lyest Thou thus in hayd. My dear bird, [Pg 72]Thus it is fated Though you be truly King;__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ But still, I will not stop To sing, goodbye, lullaby. The Child then spake in His talking, and to His mother said— I bekyd[30] am King, in Crib[31] there I be laid; For bright angels Down to Me light. You know it's not a no; And of that view You may be light To sing, bye bye, lullaby. Now, sweet Son, since Thou art King, why art Thou laid in stall? Why not Thou ordained Thy bedding in some great King his hall? I think it's right That King or Knight Should be well arranged; And then among It wasn't wrong To sing, bye bye, lullaby. Mary, mother, I am thy child, though I be laid in stall, Lords and dukes shall worship Me, and so shall Kings all; You will see That Kings three Will come the twelfth day; For this request Give me your breast And sing, bye bye, lullaby. Now tell me, sweet Son, I pray Thee, Thou art my love and dear, How should I keep Thee to Thy pay,[32] and make Thee glad of cheer; For all Your will I would fulfill You know __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ full well, honestly, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__ And for all of this I will kiss you [Pg 73]And sing, bye bye, lullaby. My dear mother, when time it be, thou take Me up aloft, And set Me upon thy knee, and handle Me full soft; And in your arm, You will warm me, And keep day and night; If I cry, And might not sleep, You sing, bye-bye, lullaby. Now, sweet Son, since it is so, that all thing is at Thy will, I pray Thee grant me a boon, if it be both right and skill.[35] That kid or guy, That will or can Be joyful on my day; To bring them joy, And I'll sing Lullaby, goodnight, lullaby. |
A very popular carol, too, was that of the Legend of the Cherry Tree, which is very ancient, and is one of the scenes in the fifteenth of the Coventry Mysteries, which were played in the fifteenth century, on Corpus Christi Day.
A very popular carol was also the Legend of the Cherry Tree, which is quite old and is one of the scenes in the fifteenth play of the Coventry Mysteries, performed in the fifteenth century on Corpus Christi Day.
Joseph was an old man, And he was an old man, And he married Mary The Queen of Galilee. When Joseph was married, And Mary brought home, Mary proved with child, And Joseph didn't know it. Joseph and Mary walked Through a cheerful garden, Where the cherries they grew On every tree. O, then bespoke Mary, With gentle and soothing words, "O, gather me cherries, Joseph, "They keep running through my mind." And then replied Joseph, With his hurtful words, "Let him gather thee cherries, "That made you pregnant." O, then bespoke our Savior, All in his mom's womb, "Bow down, good cherry tree, To my mom's hand. The uppermost sprig Kneeled before Mary, "Thus you may see, Joseph, These cherries are for me. "O, eat your cherries, Mary, Eat your cherries now, O, eat your cherries, Mary, That grow on the bow." |
The parable of Dives and Lazarus was a great favourite at Christ-tide, as, presumably, it served to stir up men to deeds of charity towards their poorer brethren; but the follow[Pg 74]ing carol, parts of which are very curious, has nothing like the antiquity of the foregoing examples:—
The story of Dives and Lazarus was a favorite during Christmas time, likely because it encouraged people to show charity towards those less fortunate. However, the following carol, some parts of which are quite interesting, is nowhere near as old as the previous examples:—
As it fell out upon a day, Rich Dives prepared a feast, And he invited all his guests, And the best gentry. Then Lazarus laid him down, and down, And down at Dives' door, "Some meat, some drink, brother Dives, "Give to the poor." "Thou art none of my brother, Lazarus, That is lying here, waiting at my door, No meat, nor drink will I give thee, Nor give to the poor." Then Lazarus laid him down, and down, And down at Dives' wall, "Some meat, some drink, brother Dives, "Or I will starve from hunger." "Thou art none of my brother, Lazarus, That is lying against my wall, No meat, nor drink will I give thee, "But you will starve with hunger." Then Lazarus laid him down, and down, And down at Dives' gate, "Some meat, some drink, brother Dives, For Jesus Christ's sake. "Thou art none of my brother, Lazarus, That is lying and begging at my door, No meat, nor drink I'll give to thee, "For Jesus Christ's sake." Then Dives sent out his merry men, To whisk poor Lazarus away, But they had no power to strike a stroke, And tossed their whips aside. Then Dives sent out his hungry dogs, To bite him while he was lying there. But they had no power to bite at all, So licked his wounds away. As it fell upon a day, Lazarus got sick and died. There came an Angel out of heaven, His soul is there to guide. "Rise up, rise up, brother Lazarus, And join me, For there's a place in heaven provided "To sit on an angel's knee." As it fell upon a day, Rich Dives got sick and died, There came a serpent out of hell, His soul is there to guide. "Rise up, rise up, brother Dives, And come with me, For there's a place in hell provided, "To sit on a serpent's knee." Then Dives lifting his eyes to heaven, And seeing poor Lazarus blessed, "Give me a drop of water, brother Lazarus, To satisfy my burning thirst. "Oh! had I as many years to abide, As there are blades of grass, Then there would be an ending day; But in hell, I must always remain. "Oh! was I now but alive again, For half an hour, I would make my will, and then secure "That the devil should have no power." |
All the festivals of the Church are preceded by a vigil, or eve, and, considering the magnitude of the festival of Christmas, it is no wonder that the ceremonial attaching to the eve of the Nativity outvies all others. What sings old Herrick of it?
All the Church's festivals are preceded by a vigil or an eve, and given the significance of the Christmas festival, it's no surprise that the ceremonies for the eve of the Nativity surpass all others. What does the old poet Herrick sing about it?
Come, make some noise, My cheerful boys, The Christmas Log to the firing; While my good lady, she You all be free; And drink to your hearts' desiring. With last year's brand, Light the new block, and For good successe in his spending, Play your psaltery, That good luck might Come while the Log is teending.[36] Drink the strong beer now, Cut the white loaf here, The while the meat is a shredding; For the rare mince pie, And the Plums are here To fill the Paste that's a-kneading. |
Bringing in the Yule log, clog, or block—for it is indifferently called by any of these names, was a great function on Christmas eve—and much superstitious reverence was paid to it, in order to insure good luck for the coming year. It had to be lit "with the last yeere's brand," and Herrick gives the following instructions in The Ceremonies for Candlemasse day.
Bringing in the Yule log, clog, or block—it's called by any of these names—was a big deal on Christmas Eve, and people paid a lot of superstitious respect to it to ensure good luck for the upcoming year. It had to be lit "with last year’s brand," and Herrick provides the following instructions in The Ceremonies for Candlemasse day.
Kindle the Christmas Brand, and then Till sunset, let it burn; Which quencht, then lay it up agen, Until Christmas next. Part must be kept, wherewith to teend The Christmas Log next year; And, where 'tis safely kept, the Fiend Can't cause any trouble there. |
But, even if lit with the remains of last year's log, it seems to be insufficient, unless the advice to the maids who light it be followed.
But even lit with the remnants of last year's firewood, it feels lacking, unless the guidance given to the maids who ignite it is followed.
Wash your hands, or else the fire Will not teend to your desire; Unwasht hands, ye Maidens, know, Dead the Fire, though ye blow. |
In some parts of Devonshire a curious custom in connection with the Yule log is still kept up, that of burning the Ashton or ashen faggot. It is well described by a writer in Notes and Queries.[37]
In some areas of Devonshire, a strange tradition related to the Yule log is still followed, which involves burning the Ashton or ashen bundle. A writer in Notes and Queries provides a detailed description of it.[37]
"Of the olden customs, so many of which are dying out, that of burning an 'ashen faggot' on Christmas Eve, still holds its own, and is kept up at many farm houses.
"Among the old traditions, many of which are fading away, the practice of burning an 'ashen faggot' on Christmas Eve still endures and is maintained in many farmhouses."
"Among the various gleanings of the Devon Association Folk-Lore Committee is recorded a notice of this custom. We are there informed that, on Christmas eve, 1878, the customary faggot was burned at thirty-two farms and cottages in the Ashburton postal district alone.
"Among the various findings of the Devon Association Folk-Lore Committee, there is a note about this custom. It states that on Christmas Eve, 1878, the traditional faggot was burned at thirty-two farms and cottages in the Ashburton postal district alone."
"The details of the observance vary in different families; but some, being common to all, may be considered as held necessary to the due performance of the rite. For example,[Pg 77] the faggot must contain as large a log of ash as possible, usually the trunk of a tree, remnants of which are supposed to continue smouldering on the hearth the whole of the twelve days of Christmas. This is the Yule dog of our forefathers, from which a fire can be raised by the aid of a pair of bellows, at any moment day or night, in token of the ancient custom of open hospitality at such a season. Then the faggot must be bound together with as many binders of twisted hazel as possible. Remembering that the Ash and Hazel were sacred trees with the Scandinavians, their combined presence in forming the faggot may once have contained some mystic signification. Also, as each binder is burned through, a quart of cider is claimed by the Company. By this, some hidden connexion between the pleasures of the party and the loosening bands of the faggot is typified. While the fire lasts, all sorts of amusements are indulged in—all distinction between master and servant, neighbour and visitor, is for the time set aside.
"The details of the celebration differ among families; however, some aspects are common to all and are considered essential for properly carrying out the ritual. For instance,[Pg 77] the bundle must include as large a log of ash as possible, typically the trunk of a tree, remnants of which are believed to smolder on the hearth throughout the entire twelve days of Christmas. This is the Yule log from our ancestors, from which a fire can be sparked using a pair of bellows at any moment, day or night, symbolizing the tradition of open hospitality during this season. Next, the bundle must be tied together with as many twisted hazel bindings as possible. Keeping in mind that Ash and Hazel were sacred trees to the Scandinavians, their combined presence in the bundle may have once held some mystical significance. Additionally, as each binding is burned, the group claims a quart of cider. This represents a hidden connection between the enjoyment of the gathering and the loosening of the bundle. While the fire burns, all kinds of entertainment are enjoyed—any distinction between host and guest, neighbor and visitor, is set aside for the time being."
"The heir, with roses in his shoes, That night might village partner choose; The lord, underogating, share The vulgar game of 'post and pair.' All hailed, with uncontrolled delight, And general voice, the happy night, That to the cottage, as the crown, Brought tidings of Salvation down. |
"In some houses, when the faggot begins to burn up, a young child is placed on it, and his future pluck foretold by his nerve or timidity. May not this be a remnant of the dedication of children to the Deity by passing them through the sacred fire?
"In some homes, when the kindling starts to burn, a young child is placed on it, and their future courage is predicted based on their bravery or fear. Could this be a leftover tradition of dedicating children to the Deity by passing them through the sacred fire?"
"Different reasons are given for burning Ash. By some, it is said that when our Saviour was born, Joseph cut a bundle of Ash, which, every one knows, burns very well when green; that, by this, was lighted a fire, by which He was first dressed in swaddling clothes.
"Different reasons are given for burning Ash. Some say that when our Savior was born, Joseph cut a bundle of Ash, which everyone knows burns very well when it's green; that this was used to light a fire, by which He was first dressed in swaddling clothes."
"The gipsies have a legend that our Saviour was born out in a field like themselves, and brought up by an Ash fire. The holly, ivy, and pine, they say, hid him, and so, now, are always green, whilst the ash and the oak showed where He[Pg 78] was hiding, and they remain dead all the winter. Therefore the gipsies burn Ash at Christmas.
"The gypsies have a legend that our Savior was born in a field like them and raised by an ash fire. They say the holly, ivy, and pine hid him, so they stay green all the time, while the ash and the oak revealed where He[Pg 78] was hiding, and they remain dead throughout the winter. That's why the gypsies burn ash at Christmas."
"We can well understand how the pleasures of the ashen faggot are looked forward to with delight by the hard-working agricultural labourer, for whom few social enjoyments are provided. The harvest home, in these days of machinery, seems lost in the usual routine of work, and the shearing feast, when held, is confined to the farmer's family, or shepherd staff, and is not a general gathering. Moreover, these take place in the long busy days of summer, when extra hands and strangers are about the farm doing job work. But, with Christmas, things are different. Work is scarce; only the regular hands are on the farm, and there is nothing to prevent following out the good old custom of our ancestors, of feasting, for once, those among whom one's lot is cast.
"We can easily see why the pleasures of the simple firewood are eagerly anticipated by the hardworking farm laborer, who has few social activities available. Nowadays, the harvest celebration seems lost in the everyday work routine, and the shearing feast, when it does happen, is limited to the farmer's family or the shepherd's team, not a community event. Plus, these events usually take place during the long, busy days of summer when extra help and outsiders are on the farm doing temporary work. But at Christmas, things change. Work is scarce; only the regular workers are on the farm, and nothing stops us from continuing the good old tradition of feasting, just this once, with those we share our lives with."
"England was Merry England, when Old Christmas brought his sports again. 'Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale; 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale: A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year." |
To add to the festivity and light, large candles are burnt, the bigger the better; but, as the custom of keeping Christmas descended from "Children of a larger growth" to those of lesser, so did the size of the candles decrease in proportion, until they reached the minimum at which we now know them. In the Isle of Man they had a custom which has, probably, dropped into desuetude, of all going to church on Christmas eve, each bearing the largest candle procurable. The churches were well decorated with holly, and the service, in commemoration of the Nativity, was called Oiel Verry. Waldron, in his Description of the Isle of Man, says, "On the 24th of December, towards evening, all 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[Pg 79] solemnity, singing dirges over her in the Manks language, which they call her knell; after which Christmas begins."
To add to the celebration and brightness, large candles are burned, the bigger the better; but, just like the tradition of celebrating Christmas passed from "older kids" to younger ones, the size of the candles has also shrunk over time, until they reached the small sizes we know today. In the Isle of Man, there used to be a tradition that has probably faded away, where everyone would go to church on Christmas Eve, each carrying the largest candle they could find. The churches were beautifully decorated with holly, and the service, in honor of the Nativity, was called Oiel Verry. Waldron, in his Description of the Isle of Man, says, "On December 24th, in the evening, all the servants generally have a holiday; they stay up all night, wandering around until the bells ring in all the churches at midnight: after the prayers, they go out to hunt the wren; and, after finding one of these poor birds, they kill it and lay it on a bier with great seriousness, bringing it to the parish church to bury it with a peculiar kind of[Pg 79] solemnity, singing dirges over it in the Manks language, which they call her knell; after that, Christmas begins."
There are many peculiar customs appertaining to Christmas eve. Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, says, "'Tis their only desire, if it may be done by art, to see their husband's picture in a glass; they'll give anything to know when they shall be married; how many husbands they shall have, by Cromnyomantia, a kind of divination, with onions laid on the altar at Christmas eve." This seems to be something like that which we have seen practised on St. Thomas's day—or that described in Googe's Popish Kingdome.
There are many strange customs associated with Christmas Eve. Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, says, "'Tis their only wish, if possible, to see their husband's picture in a mirror; they'll do anything to find out when they'll get married; how many husbands they'll have, through Cromnyomantia, a type of divination using onions placed on the altar at Christmas Eve." This seems similar to practices we've seen on St. Thomas's Day—or those described in Googe's Popish Kingdome.
In these same days, young wanton gyrles that meet for marriage be, Doe search to know the names of them that shall their husbands be; Four onyons, five, or eight, they take, and make in every one Such names as they doe fancie most, and best to think upon. Then near the chimney them they set, and that same onyon then That firste doth sproute doth surely beare the name of their good man. |
In Northamptonshire another kind of divination, with the same object, used to be practised: the girl who was anxious to ascertain her lot in the married state, went into the garden and plucked twelve sage leaves, under the firm conviction that she would be favoured with a glimpse of the shadowy form of her future husband as he approached her from the opposite end of the ground; but she had to take great care not to damage or break the sage stock, otherwise the consequences would be fearful. But then, in this county, the ghosts of people who had been buried at cross roads had liberty to walk about and show themselves on Christmas eve, so that the country folk did not care to stir out more than necessary on the vigil. At Walton-le-Dale, in Lancashire, the inmates of most of the houses sat up on Christmas eve, with their doors open, whilst one of the party read the narrative of St. Luke, the saint himself being supposed to pass through the house.
In Northamptonshire, there was another type of divination with the same purpose: a girl eager to find out her future in marriage would go into the garden and pick twelve sage leaves, fully believing she would catch a glimpse of her future husband's shadowy figure approaching her from the other end of the yard. However, she had to be very careful not to damage or break the sage plant, or there would be terrible consequences. Additionally, in this county, the ghosts of people buried at crossroads were allowed to roam and show themselves on Christmas Eve, so the locals preferred to stay indoors as much as possible on that night. In Walton-le-Dale, Lancashire, most households would stay up on Christmas Eve with their doors open while one person read the story of St. Luke, as it was believed that the saint himself would pass through the house.
A contributor to the Gentleman's Magazine, 7th February 1795, gives the following account of a custom which took place annually on the 24th of December, at the house of a gentleman residing at Aston, near Birmingham. "As soon as supper is over, a table is set in the hall. On it is placed[Pg 80] a brown loaf, with twenty silver threepences stuck on the top of it, a tankard of ale, with pipes and tobacco; and the two oldest servants have chairs behind it, to sit as judges, if they please. The steward brings the servants, both men and women, by one at a time, covered with a winnow sheet, and lays their right hand on the loaf, exposing no other part of the body. The oldest of the two judges guesses at the person, by naming a name, then the younger judge, and, lastly, the oldest again. If they hit upon the right person, the steward leads the person back again; but, if they do not, he takes off the winnow sheet, and the person receives a threepence, makes a low obeisance to the judges, but speaks not a word. When the second servant was brought, the younger judge guessed first and third; and this they did alternately, till all the money was given away. Whatever servant had not slept in the house the preceding night forfeited his right to the money. No account is given of the origin of this strange custom, but it has been practised ever since the family lived there. When the money is gone, the servants have full liberty to drink, dance, sing, and go to bed when they please."
A contributor to the Gentleman's Magazine, February 7, 1795, shares the following account of a tradition that happened every year on December 24, at the home of a gentleman in Aston, near Birmingham. "As soon as supper ends, a table is set up in the hall. On it is placed[Pg 80] a brown loaf, topped with twenty silver threepence coins, a tankard of ale, along with pipes and tobacco; and the two oldest servants have chairs behind it to sit as judges if they wish. The steward brings the servants, both men and women, one by one, covered with a winnow sheet, and places their right hand on the loaf, revealing no other part of their body. The oldest judge guesses the person first by naming a name, followed by the younger judge, and then the oldest again. If they guess right, the steward leads that person back; if not, he removes the winnow sheet, and the person receives a threepence, bows to the judges, but doesn't say a word. When the second servant is brought in, the younger judge guesses first and third; they alternate this until all the money is given out. Any servant who didn't sleep in the house the night before loses their chance at the money. There's no record of where this unusual tradition came from, but it's been followed since the family moved there. Once the money is gone, the servants are free to drink, dance, sing, and go to bed whenever they like."
In Cornwall, in many villages, Christmas merriment begins on the vigil, when the "mock" or Yule log is lighted by a portion saved from last year's fire. The family gather round the blaze, and amuse themselves with various games; and even the younger children are allowed, as a special favour, to sit up till a late hour to see the fun, and afterwards "to drink to the mock." In the course of the evening the merriment is increased by the entry of the "goosey dancers" (guised dancers), the boys and girls of the village, who have rifled their parents' wardrobes of old coats and gowns and, thus disguised, dance and sing, and beg money to make merry with. They are allowed, and are not slow to take, a large amount of license in consideration of the season. It is considered to be out of character with the time, and a mark of an ill-natured churlish disposition, to take offence at anything they do or say. This mumming is kept up during the week.
In Cornwall, in many villages, Christmas celebrations kick off on the eve, when the "mock" or Yule log is lit using a piece saved from last year's fire. The family gathers around the fire and entertains themselves with various games, and even the younger kids are allowed, as a special treat, to stay up late to enjoy the festivities, and later "to drink to the mock." As the evening goes on, the fun increases with the arrival of the "goosey dancers" (masked dancers), the boys and girls of the village, who have raided their parents' closets for old coats and gowns, and, dressed up, dance and sing, asking for money to celebrate. They are given a lot of leeway and are quick to take advantage of it due to the season. It would be seen as out of place and a sign of a bad attitude to get upset by anything they do or say. This mumming continues throughout the week.
A very graphic description of Christmas eve in a Derbyshire cottage is given in Notes and Queries.[38] "For several[Pg 81] weeks before Christmas the cottager's household is much busier than usual in making preparations for the great holiday. The fatted pig has been killed, as a matter of course, and Christmas pies, mince pies, and many other good things made from it in readiness for the feast. The house has been thoroughly cleaned, and all made 'spick and span.' The lads of the house, with those of their neighbours, have been learning their parts, and getting ready their dresses for the 'Christmas guising,' and the household daily talk is full flavoured of Christmas.
A very vivid description of Christmas Eve in a Derbyshire cottage is given in Notes and Queries.[38] "For several[Pg 81] weeks before Christmas, the cottage is much busier than usual as everyone prepares for the big holiday. The pig has been slaughtered, as is customary, and Christmas pies, mince pies, and many other treats have been made in preparation for the feast. The house has been thoroughly cleaned and is looking spotless. The boys in the house, along with their neighbors, have been practicing their lines and getting their costumes ready for the 'Christmas guising,' and the daily conversations in the household are filled with Christmas cheer.
"The lasses have made their own special preparations, and for two or three days before Christmas Eve have been getting ready the accustomed house decorations—short garlands of holly and other evergreens for the tops of cupboards, pictures, and other furniture—and making up the most important decoration of all, 'the kissing-bunch.'
"The girls have set up their own special preparations, and for two or three days leading up to Christmas Eve, they’ve been getting the usual house decorations ready—short garlands of holly and other evergreens for the tops of cupboards, pictures, and other furniture—and putting together the most important decoration of all, 'the kissing bunch.'
"This 'kissing-bunch' is always an elaborate affair. The size depends upon the couple of hoops—one thrust through the other—which form its skeleton. Each of the ribs is garlanded with holly, ivy, and sprigs of other greens, with bits of coloured ribbons and paper roses, rosy cheeked apples, specially reserved for this occasion, and oranges. Three small dolls are also prepared, often with much taste, and these represent our Saviour, the mother of Jesus, and Joseph. These dolls generally hang within the kissing-bunch by strings from the top, and are surrounded by apples, oranges tied to strings, and various brightly coloured ornaments. Occasionally, however, the dolls are arranged in the kissing-bunch to represent a manger scene.
This "kissing bunch" is always a big deal. Its size depends on the couple of hoops—one threaded through the other—that create its structure. Each rib is decorated with holly, ivy, and other greenery, along with colorful ribbons and paper roses, rosy-cheeked apples set aside for this occasion, and oranges. Three small dolls are also made, often with great care, representing our Savior, Mary, and Joseph. These dolls usually hang inside the kissing bunch by strings from the top and are surrounded by apples, oranges on strings, and various brightly colored decorations. Sometimes, though, the dolls are arranged in the kissing bunch to depict a manger scene.
"When the preparations are completed, the house is decorated during the day of Christmas eve. Every leaded window-pane holds its sprig of holly, ivy, or box; the ornaments on and over the mantel-shelf receive like attention, and every ledge and corner is loaded with green stuff. Mistletoe is not very plentiful in Derbyshire; but, generally, a bit is obtainable, and this is carefully tied to the bottom of the kissing-bunch, which is then hung in the middle of the house-place, the centre of attraction during Christmas-tide.
"When everything is ready, the house gets decorated on Christmas Eve. Every leaded window has its sprig of holly, ivy, or boxwood; the ornaments on the mantelpiece receive the same care, and every ledge and corner is filled with greenery. Mistletoe isn't very common in Derbyshire, but usually, you can find a little bit, which is carefully tied to the bottom of the kissing bunch and then hung in the center of the living room, becoming the focal point during the Christmas season."
"While all this is going on, the housewife is very busy.[Pg 82] 'Black-ball' has to be made; the 'elderberry wine' to be got out; 'sugar, spice, and all that's nice' and needful placed handy. The shop has to be visited, and the usual yearly gift of one, two, or three Christmas candles received. With these last, as every one knows, the house is lit up at dusk on Christmas Eve.
"While all this is happening, the housewife is very busy.[Pg 82] The 'black-ball' has to be prepared; the 'elderberry wine' needs to be brought out; 'sugar, spice, and everything nice' and necessary should be within reach. She has to go to the store and collect the traditional yearly gift of one, two, or three Christmas candles. With these, as everyone knows, the house is lit up at dusk on Christmas Eve."
"Without the 'black-ball' just mentioned, the Christmas rejoicings in a cottage would not be complete. 'Black-ball' is a delicacy compounded of black treacle and sugar boiled together in a pan, to which, when boiling, is added a little flour, grated ginger, and spices. When it is boiled enough, it is poured into a large shallow dish, and, when partially cooled, is cut into squares and lengths, then rolled or moulded into various shapes. When quite cool, it is very hard, and very toothsome to young Derbyshire.
"Without the 'black-ball' mentioned earlier, Christmas celebrations in a cottage wouldn’t feel complete. 'Black-ball' is a treat made from black treacle and sugar cooked together in a pan, to which a bit of flour, grated ginger, and spices are added while it’s boiling. Once it’s boiled enough, it’s poured into a large shallow dish, and when it's partially cooled, it’s cut into squares and strips, then rolled or shaped into different forms. When it’s fully cool, it becomes very hard and is a real treat for young people in Derbyshire."
"After an early tea-meal, the fire is made up with a huge Yule-log; all the candles, oil and fat lamps lit, and everything is bright and merry-looking. The head of the family sits in the chimney corner with pipe and glass of ale, or mulled elder wine. The best table is set out, and fairly loaded with Christmas and mince pies, oranges, apples, nuts, 'black-baw,' wine, cakes, and green cheese, and the whole family, with the guests, if any, set about enjoying themselves. Romping games are the order of the eve, broken only when the 'guisers'—of whom there are always several sets—or waits arrive. The 'guisers' are admitted indoors, and go through the several acts of their play. At the conclusion 'Betsy Belzebub' collects coppers from the company, and glasses of ale and wine are given to the players. The Waits, or 'Christmas Singers' as they are mostly called, sing their carols and hymns outside the house, and during the performance cakes and ale, wine, and other cheer are carried out to them. So the Eve passes on.
"After an early tea, the fire is stoked with a big Yule log; all the candles and oil lamps are lit, making everything bright and cheerful. The head of the family sits in the corner by the fireplace with a pipe and a glass of ale or mulled elder wine. The best table is set up, loaded with Christmas and mince pies, oranges, apples, nuts, 'black-baw,' wine, cakes, and green cheese, and the whole family, along with any guests, gathers to enjoy themselves. Fun games take over the evening, only interrupted when the 'guisers'—of which there are always several groups—or waits show up. The 'guisers' are welcomed inside and perform various acts of their play. At the end, 'Betsy Belzebub' collects coins from the audience, and drinks of ale and wine are given to the players. The Waits, or 'Christmas Singers' as they are often called, sing their carols and hymns outside the house, and during their performance, cakes, ale, wine, and other treats are brought out to them. And so the Eve goes on."
"At nine or ten o'clock is brewed a large bowl of 'poor man's punch'—ale posset! This is the event of the night. Ale posset, or milk and ale posset as some call it, is made in this wise. Set a quart of milk on the fire. While it boils, crumble a twopenny loaf into a deep bowl, upon which pour the boiling milk. Next, set two quarts of good ale to boil, into which grate ginger and nutmeg, adding a quantity of[Pg 83] sugar. When the ale nearly boils, add it to the milk and bread in the bowl, stirring it while it is being poured in.
"At nine or ten o'clock, a big bowl of 'poor man's punch'—ale posset—is made! This is the highlight of the night. Ale posset, or milk and ale posset as some call it, is prepared like this: Heat a quart of milk. While it’s boiling, crumble a cheap loaf of bread into a deep bowl, and pour the boiling milk over it. Then, bring two quarts of good ale to a boil, adding grated ginger and nutmeg, along with a good amount of[Pg 83] sugar. When the ale is almost boiling, pour it into the bowl with the milk and bread, stirring as you pour."
"The bowl of ale posset is then placed in the centre of the table. All the single folks gather round, each provided with a spoon. Then follows an interesting ceremony. A wedding ring, a bone button, and a fourpenny piece are thrown into the bowl, and all begin to eat, each dipping to the bottom of the bowl. He or she who brings up the ring will be the first married; whoever brings up the button will be an old maid or an old bachelor; and he or she who brings out the coin will become the richest. As may be imagined, this creates great fun. When seven shilling gold pieces were in circulation, this was the coin always thrown into the posset.
"The bowl of ale posset is placed in the center of the table. Everyone who's single gathers around, each with a spoon. Then an interesting ceremony takes place. A wedding ring, a bone button, and a fourpenny piece are tossed into the bowl, and everyone starts eating, dipping all the way to the bottom. Whoever pulls up the ring will be the first to get married; the one who brings up the button will be an old maid or an old bachelor; and the person who retrieves the coin will become the richest. As you can imagine, this creates a lot of fun. When seven shilling gold pieces were still in circulation, that coin was always the one tossed into the posset."
"The games are resumed when the posset is eaten, or possibly all gather round the fire, and sing or tell stories, whiling away the hours till the stroke of twelve, when all go outside the house to listen, whilst the singers, who have gathered at some point in the village, sing 'Christians, awake!' or 'Hark! the Herald Angels Sing'; and so comes to an end the cottager's one hearth-stone holiday of the whole year."
"The games start up again once the posset is finished, or maybe everyone gathers around the fire to sing or share stories, passing the time until midnight. At that hour, everyone goes outside to listen while the singers from around the village perform 'Christians, awake!' or 'Hark! the Herald Angels Sing'; thus, the cottager's only holiday around the hearth for the entire year comes to a close."
As these old customs are fast dying out, and should be chronicled, I must be pardoned if I give another and very similar illustration of how Christmas eve was spent in North Notts fifty years ago.[39]
As these old traditions are quickly fading away and need to be recorded, I hope you'll forgive me for sharing another very similar example of how Christmas Eve was celebrated in North Notts fifty years ago.[39]
"None keep Christmas nowadays as was the fashion fifty to a hundred years ago in this part of the country. Here and there are to be met the customs, or bits of the customs, which were then observed: but, as a rule, the old ways have given place to new ones. Here in North Notts, every house is more or less decked in the few days before Christmas Day with holly, ivy, and evergreens, nor is mistletoe forgotten, which would scarcely be likely by any one living within a dozen miles of Sherwood Forest, where mistletoe grows in rare profusion on thorn bushes, the oak, and other trees, and under certain conditions may be had for the asking.
"Nobody celebrates Christmas these days like they did fifty to a hundred years ago in this area. You can still find some of the traditions or fragments of them that were popular back then, but generally, the old ways have been replaced by new ones. Here in North Notts, every house is usually decorated with holly, ivy, and evergreens in the days leading up to Christmas Day, and mistletoe is not forgotten either. It’s hard to imagine anyone living within a dozen miles of Sherwood Forest overlooking it, where mistletoe grows in abundance on thorn bushes, oak trees, and other trees, and can often be obtained easily."
"Fifty years ago, at any rate, in all the villages and towns of North Notts, the preparations among farmers, tradesmen, and poor folks for keeping Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were always on a bountiful scale. Fat pigs were killed a week or so previously, portions of which were made into Christmas pies of various kinds. Plum puddings were made, and the mince meat, cunningly prepared some weeks beforehand, was made into mince pies of all sorts, sizes, and shapes. Yule 'clogs,' as they are here called, were sawn or chopped in[Pg 85] readiness, and a stock laid in sufficient to last the whole of one or two evenings.
"Fifty years ago, in all the villages and towns of North Notts, farmers, tradespeople, and families preparing for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day always did so in a generous way. Fat pigs were slaughtered about a week beforehand, and parts of them were used to make different kinds of Christmas pies. Plum puddings were prepared, and the mince meat, carefully made weeks earlier, was turned into all sorts, sizes, and shapes of mince pies. Yule 'clogs,' as they are called here, were sawn or chopped in[Pg 85] preparation, and enough was stockpiled to last through one or two evenings."
"In well-regulated houses it was usual to have all the preparations and the housework completed by early in the afternoon of Christmas Eve, and after an early tea in parlour and kitchen—the servants, clean and neat, piled up the Yule clogs in the rooms, getting the large ones well alight, and keeping them going by smaller knots of wood. Long, large, white Christmas Candles were lighted, set in old-fashioned, time-honoured, brass candlesticks, accompanied by equally old and honoured brass snuffers and trays, all bright and shining. Of candles, there was no lack, and when all were fairly going, parlour and kitchen presented a blaze of warm, ruddy light, only seen once in the year. In both rooms the Christmas Eve tables were laid with snowy linen, and set for feasting, with all the good things provided. On each table would be a large piece of beef, and a ham, flanked by the pies and other good things, including a Christmas Cheese.
"In well-organized homes, it was common to have all the preparations and housework finished by early afternoon on Christmas Eve. After an early tea in the living room and kitchen, the servants, tidy and neat, stacked up the Yule logs in the rooms, getting the large ones burning well and keeping them going with smaller pieces of wood. Long, large, white Christmas candles were lit, placed in old-fashioned brass candlesticks, accompanied by traditional brass snuffers and trays, all polished and shining. There was no shortage of candles, and once they were all lit, the living room and kitchen glowed with a warm, reddish light, only seen once a year. In both rooms, the Christmas Eve tables were set with white tablecloths and prepared for a feast, showcasing all the delicious food laid out. Each table featured a large piece of beef and a ham, surrounded by pies and other treats, including a Christmas cheese."
"About six in the evening, the chief item of the feast was prepared. This was hot spiced ale, usually of a special brew. This was prepared by the gallon in a large kettle, or iron pot, which stood, for the purpose, on the hob. The ale was poured in, made quite hot, but not allowed to boil, and then sugar and spice were added according to taste, some women having a special mode of making the brew. When ready, the hot ale was ladled into bowls,—the large earthenware ones now so rare. A white one, with blue decorations, was used in the parlour, a commoner one, of the yellowish earthenware kind, with rough blue or other coloured bands for ornamentation, being for the kitchen. These, nearly full of the steaming brew, were carried to the tables. Whoever then dropped in, and usually there were many, to see parlour or kitchen company, had to drink from these bowls, lifting the bowl to the lips with both hands, expressing a good seasonable wish, and taking a hearty drink. The visitors then partook of anything on the table they liked, and one and all were treated bountifully. Soon, as the company arrived, the fun increased in parlour and kitchen, particularly in the latter, as the womenkind went through the old-fashioned[Pg 86] ceremony under the mistletoe, which was hung aloft from a highly-decorated 'kissing-bunch.'
"About six in the evening, the main dish of the feast was ready. This was hot spiced ale, usually from a special recipe. It was made by the gallon in a large kettle or iron pot, set on the stove for this purpose. The ale was poured in, heated until it was steaming but not boiling, and then sugar and spices were added to taste, as some women had their own unique way of making it. When it was ready, the hot ale was ladled into bowls—the large earthenware ones that are now quite rare. A white bowl with blue decorations was used in the living room, while a simpler one of yellowish earthenware with rough blue or other colored bands was for the kitchen. These, nearly full of the steaming brew, were brought to the tables. Anyone who dropped by, and there were usually many, to visit the living room or kitchen had to drink from these bowls, lifting them to their lips with both hands, sharing a seasonal wish, and taking a hearty sip. The guests then enjoyed anything on the table they liked, and everyone was treated generously. Soon, as the company arrived, the fun grew in the living room and kitchen, especially in the kitchen, as the women followed the old-fashioned ceremony under the mistletoe, which was hung high from a beautifully decorated 'kissing bunch.'"
"All sorts of games and fun went on till about ten o'clock, as a rule, about which time the master, mistress, and family, with the rest of the parlour company, visited the kitchen. Then the steaming ale bowl was refilled, and all, beginning with the master and the mistress, in turn drank from the bowl. This over, the parlour company remained, and entered into the games for a time. There was always some one who could sing a suitable song; and one, if song it can be called, was:
"All kinds of games and fun continued until around ten o'clock, usually, at which point the master, mistress, and family, along with the rest of the guests in the parlor, visited the kitchen. Then the steaming ale bowl was refilled, and everyone, starting with the master and the mistress, took turns drinking from it. After that, the guests stayed in the parlor and participated in the games for a while. There was always someone who could sing a suitable song; and one, if you can call it a song, was:"
"The Folks' Song.
"The People’s Song.
"When me an' my folks Come to see you an' your folks, Let you an' your folks Treat me an' my folks As kind, as me an' my folks Treated you an' your folks, When you an' your folks Came to see me an' my folks, Sure then! never were such folks Since folks were folks! |
"This was sung several times over with the last two lines as a chorus. The proceedings in the kitchen closed with another general sup from the replenished bowl, the parlour folks returning to the parlour. During the evening the proceedings were varied by visits from Christmas singers and the mummers, all of whom were well entertained. Usually, if the weather was fit, the kitchen folks wound up the night with a stroll, dropping in to see friends at other houses. As a rule, soon after midnight the feastings were over, but most folks never thought of retiring till they heard the bands of singers in the distance singing the morning hymn, 'Christians, awake!'"
"This was sung several times with the last two lines as a chorus. The activities in the kitchen wrapped up with another round from the filled bowl, while the people in the parlor returned to their space. Throughout the evening, there were visits from Christmas carolers and performers, all of whom were warmly welcomed. Usually, if the weather was nice, the kitchen crew ended the night with a walk, stopping by to see friends at other homes. Generally, right after midnight, the feasting would finish, but most people didn’t think of calling it a night until they heard the groups of singers in the distance singing the morning hymn, 'Christians, awake!'"
A very old custom was that of "wassailing" the fruit trees on Christmas eve, although it obtained on other days, such as New Year's day and Twelfth day. Herrick says:
A very old tradition was "wassailing" the fruit trees on Christmas Eve, although it also happened on other days, like New Year's Day and Twelfth Night. Herrick says:
Wassaile 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. |
This custom of drinking to the trees and pouring forth libations to them differs according to the locality. In some parts of Devonshire it used to be customary for the farmer, with his family and friends, after partaking together of hot cakes and cider (the cakes being dipped in the liquor previous to being eaten), to proceed to the orchard, one of the party bearing hot cake and cider as an offering to the principal apple tree. The cake was formally deposited on the fork of the tree, and the cider thrown over it.
This tradition of toasting the trees and pouring drinks for them varies by region. In some areas of Devonshire, it was once common for the farmer, along with family and friends, to enjoy hot cakes and cider together (with the cakes dipped in the drink before eating). They would then head to the orchard, with one person bringing a hot cake and cider as an offering to the main apple tree. The cake was placed on the tree's fork, and the cider was poured over it.
In the neighbourhood of the New Forest the following lines are sung at the wassailing of the trees:
In the New Forest area, people sing the following lines during the tree wassailing:
Apples and pears, with right good corn Come in plenty to every one; Eat and drink good cake and hot ale, Give earth to drink, and she'll not fail. |
Horsfield, who wrote of Sussex, speaks somewhat at length of this subject, and says that the wassail bowl was compounded of ale, sugar, nutmeg, and roasted apples, the latter called "lambs' wool." The wassail bowl is placed on a small round table, and each person present is furnished with a silver spoon to stir. They then walk round the table as they go, and stirring with the right hand, and every alternate person passes at the same time under the arm of his preceding neighbour. The wassailing (or "worsling," as it is termed in West Sussex) of the fruit trees is considered a matter of grave importance, and its omission is held to bring ill luck, if not the loss of all the next crop. Those who engage in the ceremony are called "howlers."
Horsfield, who wrote about Sussex, goes into detail on this topic and mentions that the wassail bowl was made of ale, sugar, nutmeg, and roasted apples, which were referred to as "lambs' wool." The wassail bowl is set on a small round table, and each person present is given a silver spoon to stir. As they walk around the table, they stir with their right hand, while every other person bends down to pass under the arm of the person in front of them. Wassailing (or "worsling," as it's called in West Sussex) the fruit trees is seen as very important, and skipping it is believed to bring bad luck, possibly resulting in the loss of the next crop. Those who participate in the ceremony are called "howlers."
The farm labourers, or boys (says Horsfield), after the day's toil is ended, assemble in a group to wassail the apple trees, etc. The trumpeter of the party is furnished with a cow's horn, with which he makes sweet music. Thus equipped, they call on the farmer, and inquire, "please, sir, do you want your trees worsled?" They then proceed to the orchard, and encircling one of the largest and best-bearing trees, chant in a low voice a certain doggerel rhyme; and this ended, all shout in chorus, with the exception of the trumpeter, who blows a loud blast. During the ceremony they rap the trees with their sticks. "Thus going from[Pg 88] tree to tree, or group to group, they wassail the whole orchard; this finished, they proceed to the house of the owner, and sing at his door a song common on the occasion. They are then admitted, and, placing themselves around the kitchen fire, enjoy the sparkling ale and the festivities of the season."
The farm workers, or boys (as Horsfield puts it), gather in a group after a long day’s work to celebrate the apple trees, among other things. One of them carries a cow's horn to make music. With this setup, they go to the farmer and ask, "Excuse me, sir, do you want us to bless your trees?" They then head to the orchard, circle one of the biggest and most productive trees, and chant a silly rhyme in a low voice. Once that's done, everyone joins in a loud shout, except for the one with the horn, who blasts a loud sound. During the ceremony, they knock on the trees with their sticks. "Moving from[Pg 88] tree to tree, or group to group, they bless the entire orchard; once that’s done, they go to the owner's house and sing a traditional song at his door. They are then invited in, and after gathering around the kitchen fire, they enjoy some sparkling ale and the festive atmosphere."
There are two wassail rhymes in Sussex:
There are two wassail rhymes in Sussex:
"Stand fast, root; bear well, top; Pray the God send us a good howling crop. Every twig, apples big; Every bough, apples enow. Hats full, caps full, Full quarters, sacks full. "Hey, guys, hey! Hooray!" |
The other is:
The other is:
"Here's to thee, old apple tree; May'st thou bud, may'st thou blow, May'st thou bear apples enow! Hats full! Caps full! Bushel, bushel sacks full! And my pockets full, too! Hooray! |
In the Gentleman's Magazine (January 1820, p. 33) mention is made of "an ancient superstitious custom obtaining at Tretyre, in Herefordshire, upon Christmas Eve. They make a cake, poke a stick through it, fasten it upon the horn of an ox, and say certain words, begging a good crop of corn for the master. The men and boys attending the oxen range themselves around. If the ox throws the cake behind it belongs to the men; if before, to the boys. They take with them a wooden bottle of cyder, and drink it, repeating the charm before mentioned."
In the Gentleman's Magazine (January 1820, p. 33), it talks about "an old superstitious tradition that takes place at Tretyre, in Herefordshire, on Christmas Eve. They make a cake, stick a pole through it, attach it to the horn of an ox, and say some specific words, asking for a good harvest for the owner. The men and boys who are with the oxen gather around. If the ox throws the cake behind it, it goes to the men; if it throws it forward, it goes to the boys. They also bring a wooden bottle of cider to drink while repeating the previously mentioned charm."
There is a curious custom at Downside College, near Bath. On Christmas eve the scholars of this well-known institution proceed to the election of their king and other officers of his household, consisting of the mayor of the palace, etc. His reign lasts fourteen days, during which period there are many good feasts; a room in the college being fitted up in fine style, and used by his Majesty as his palace. At Oxford, too, in pre-Reformation time, at[Pg 89] Merton College, they had a king of Christmas, or misrule; at St. John's he was styled lord, and at Trinity he was emperor!
There’s a unique tradition at Downside College, near Bath. On Christmas Eve, the students of this well-known school elect their king and other members of his household, including the mayor of the palace, and so on. His reign lasts for fourteen days, during which there are plenty of great feasts; a room in the college is beautifully decorated and serves as his Majesty’s palace. At Oxford, back before the Reformation, at [Pg 89] Merton College, they also had a king of Christmas, or misrule; at St. John's, he was called lord, and at Trinity, he was known as emperor!
There is a rather rough but pretty west country carol for Christmas eve, which is to be found in Davies Giddy, or Gilbert's Ancient Christmas Carols, etc., and which, he says, was chanted in private houses on Christmas eve throughout the west of England up to the latter part of the last century.
There’s a somewhat rough but charming west country carol for Christmas Eve, found in Davies Giddy or Gilbert's Ancient Christmas Carols, etc.. He mentions that it was sung in private homes on Christmas Eve across the west of England until the late part of the last century.
The Lord at first did Adam make From the dust and clay, And in his nostrils breathed life, Even as the Scriptures say. And then in Eden's Paradise He set him to live, That he, within it, should remain, To dress well and take care of it. Now let all good Christians start A holy life to live, And to celebrate and be happy, It's Christmas Eve. And then within the garden he Was told to stay, And unto him in commandment These are the words the Lord said: "The fruit which in the garden grows You shall have it for food, Except the tree in the midst thereof, "Of which you shall not eat." Now let good Christians, etc. "For in the day that thou shall eat, Or come close to it then; For if that thou doth eat thereof, "Then you will surely die." But Adam he did take no heed To the only thing, But did transgress God's holy law, And so was caught up in sin. Now let good Christians, etc. Now, mark the goodness of the Lord, Which He bore for mankind, His mercy soon He did extend, Lost man to restore; And then, for to redeem our souls From death and hellish bondage, He said His own dear Son should be Our savior. Now let good Christians, etc. Which promise now is brought to pass, Christians, believe this firmly; And by the coming of God's dear Son We are freed from bondage. Then, if we truly do believe, And do it right; Then, by His merits, we, at last, Will live in bright heaven Now let good Christians, etc. And now the Tide is nigh at hand When our Savior arrived; Let us rejoice, and merry be, In the same vein. Let's feed the poor and hungry souls, And those who desire it; Then, when we die, in heaven sure We will get our reward. Now let good Christians, etc. |
Christmas eve is notable in the Roman Catholic Church for the unique fact that mass is celebrated at midnight.[Pg 90] I say, advisably, is celebrated, because, although Cardinal Manning abolished public mass at that hour within the diocese of Westminster about 1867, yet in conventual establishments it is still kept up, and in every church three masses are celebrated. The ancient, and, in fact, the modern use, until interrupted by Cardinal Manning, was to celebrate mass at midnight, at daybreak, and at the third hour (9 a.m.) This use is very old; for Thelesphorus, who was Pope a.d. 127, decreed that three masses should be sung in Festo Nativitatis, to denote that the birth of Christ brought salvation to the fathers of three periods—viz. the fathers before, under, and after the law.
Christmas Eve is significant in the Roman Catholic Church because mass is held at midnight.[Pg 90] I say, appropriately, is held, because, although Cardinal Manning ended public mass at that time in the diocese of Westminster around 1867, it is still observed in convents, and in every church, three masses are performed. The traditional, and indeed modern, practice, until interrupted by Cardinal Manning, was to celebrate mass at midnight, at dawn, and at the third hour (9 a.m.). This practice is very old; for Thelesphorus, who was Pope AD 127, established that three masses should be sung in Festo Nativitatis, to show that the birth of Christ brought salvation to the ancestors of three periods—namely, the ancestors before, under, and after the law.
Another Roman Catholic custom on Christmas eve is the preparation of "the Manger," which in some places is a very elaborate affair. The Christ is lying on straw between the ox and ass, Mary and Joseph bending over Him; the shepherds are kneeling in adoration, and the angels, hovering above, are supposed to be singing the gloria in excelsis. A writer in the Catholic World (vol. xxxiv. p. 439) says:—"Christmas Dramas are said to owe their origin to St. Francis of Assisi. Before his death he celebrated the sacred Birth-night in the woods, where a stable had been prepared with an ox and an ass, and a crib for an altar. A great number of people came down from the mountains, singing joyful hymns and bearing torches in their hands; for it was not fitting that a night that had given light to the whole world, should be shrouded in darkness. St. Francis, who loved to associate all nature with his ministry, was filled with joy. He officiated at the Mass as deacon. He sang the Gospel, and then preached in a dramatic manner on the birth of Christ. When he spoke of the Lamb of God, he was filled with a kind of divine frenzy, and imitated the plaintive cry of the sacrificial lamb; and, when he pronounced the sweet name of Jesus, it was as if the taste of honey were on his lips. One soul before the rural altar, that night, with purer eyes than the rest, saw the Divine Babe, radiant with eternal beauty, lying in the manger."
Another Roman Catholic tradition on Christmas Eve is setting up "the Manger," which in some places is quite elaborate. Jesus is lying on straw between the ox and donkey, with Mary and Joseph leaning over Him; the shepherds are kneeling in worship, and the angels hovering above are supposed to be singing the gloria in excelsis. A writer in the Catholic World (vol. xxxiv. p. 439) says:—"Christmas Dramas are believed to have started with St. Francis of Assisi. Before he died, he celebrated the holy night of Christ's birth in the woods, where a stable had been set up with an ox and a donkey, and a crib serving as the altar. A large number of people came down from the mountains, singing joyful hymns and carrying torches; for it wasn’t right that a night that brought light to the entire world should be covered in darkness. St. Francis, who loved to connect all of nature with his ministry, was filled with joy. He served at the Mass as a deacon. He sang the Gospel and then preached dramatically about the birth of Christ. When he spoke of the Lamb of God, he was filled with a kind of divine passion and imitated the mournful sound of the sacrificial lamb; and when he spoke the sweet name of Jesus, it was as if the taste of honey was on his lips. One soul before the rural altar that night, with clearer eyes than the others, saw the Divine Babe, glowing with eternal beauty, lying in the manger."
Christmas Eve is especially the time for decorating houses and churches with evergreens, a custom which seems to have come from heathen times; at least, no one seems to know when it commenced. Polydore Vergil[40] says:—"Trymming of the temples with hangynges, floures, boughes, and garlondes, was taken of the heathen people, whiche decked their idols and houses with such array." That it is an old custom in England to deck houses, churches, etc., at Christ-tide with evergreens is undoubted—the only question is, how old is it? Stow, in his Survey, says: "Against the Feast of Christmas, every man's house, as also their parish churches, were decked with holme, ivy, bayes, and whatsoever the season of the year afforded to be green. The Conduits and Standards in the streets were, likewise, garnished; among the which I read that, in the year 1444, by tempest of thunder and lightning, towards the morning of Candlemas day, at the Leadenhall in Cornhill, a standard of tree, being set up in the midst of the pavement, fast in the ground, nailed full of holme and ivie, for disport of Christmass to the people, was torne up and cast down by the malignant Spirit (as was thought), and the stones of the pavement all about were cast in the streets, and into divers houses, so that the people were sore aghast at the great tempests."
Christmas Eve is particularly the time for decorating homes and churches with evergreens, a tradition that seems to have originated from pagan times; at least, no one seems to know when it started. Polydore Vergil[40] says: “Dressing up the temples with hangings, flowers, branches, and garlands was taken from the pagan people, who adorned their idols and homes with such decorations.” It’s a well-established tradition in England to decorate homes, churches, etc., during the Christmas season with evergreens—the only question is, how long has it been practiced? Stow, in his Survey, states: “Before the Feast of Christmas, every home, as well as their parish churches, was decorated with holly, ivy, bay laurel, and whatever else was green at that time of year. The water conduits and monuments in the streets were also adorned; among these, I read that in the year 1444, during a thunderstorm on the morning of Candlemas day, a tree standard set up in the middle of the pavement at Leadenhall in Cornhill, firmly implanted in the ground and decorated with holly and ivy for the enjoyment of Christmas for the people, was uprooted and knocked down by what was thought to be a malevolent spirit, and the stones from the pavement were scattered into the streets and into various homes, causing the people to be greatly frightened by the fierce storms.”
Stow, we see, makes no mention of mistletoe, nor do we find it in old churchwardens' accounts, because mistletoe was accounted a heathen plant, on account of its association with the Druids, and not only was therefore unsuitable to bedeck a place of Christian worship, but the old rite of kissing beneath it rendered it inadmissible. Still, in Queen Anne's time, it was recognised as a Christmas decoration, for Gay in his Trivia has sung—
Stow, as we can see, doesn’t mention mistletoe, and we also don’t find it in old churchwardens' accounts because mistletoe was considered a pagan plant due to its connection with the Druids. Not only was it deemed inappropriate to adorn a Christian place of worship, but the old tradition of kissing underneath it made it unacceptable as well. However, during Queen Anne's reign, it was acknowledged as a Christmas decoration, as Gay notes 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 Christmas near, Christmas, the joyous period of the year! Now with bright Holly all the temples strow With Laurel green, and sacred Mistletoe. |
The mistletoe is found in several counties in England, but the bulk of that which we have now at Christ-tide comes from Brittany. There is a popular belief that it grows on oaks, possibly on account of Druidical tradition to that effect, but, as a matter of fact, its connection with that tree in England is very rare, Dr. Ball, in a paper in the Journal of Botany, only mentioning seven authentic instances of its growth on the oak tree in this country. It principally makes its habitat on the apple, poplar, hawthorn, lime, maple, and mountain ash, and has been found on the cedar of Lebanon and the laurel.
Mistletoe can be found in several counties in England, but most of what we have during Christmas time comes from Brittany. There's a common belief that it grows on oaks, likely because of Druid traditions, but in reality, its association with oaks in England is quite rare. Dr. Ball mentioned only seven confirmed instances of it growing on oak trees in this country in a paper published in the Journal of Botany. It mostly thrives on apple, poplar, hawthorn, lime, maple, and mountain ash trees, and has also been found on the cedar of Lebanon and laurel.
The bay tree was believed to have the property of protection against fire or lightning. The ivy was considered to prevent intoxication, and for this reason Bacchus is represented as being crowned with ivy leaves. The holly was originally the Holy Tree, and tradition says that, unknown before, it sprang up in perfection and beauty beneath the footsteps of Christ when he first trod the earth, and that, though man has forgotten its attributes, the beasts all reverence it, and are never known to injure it.
The bay tree was thought to protect against fire and lightning. Ivy was believed to prevent drunkenness, which is why Bacchus is often shown wearing a crown of ivy leaves. Holly was originally called the Holy Tree, and tradition says it appeared in perfect beauty beneath Christ's feet when he first walked the earth. Although people have forgotten its significance, animals still respect it and are never known to harm it.
The four following carols are all of the fifteenth century:
The following four carols are all from the fifteenth century:
Holly and Ivy
Holly & Ivy
Holly and Ivy made a great party, Who should have the mastery [Pg 93]In places they visit. Then spake Holly, "I am fierce and jolly, I will have the mastery In places we visit. Then spake Ivy, "I am loud and proud, And I will have the mastery In lands we travel to. Then spake Holly, and set him down on his knee, I kindly ask you, dear Ivy, please don’t tell __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ me anything wicked. In places where we go. |
Here comes Holly
Here comes Holly
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, now let’s sing. Here comes Holly, that is so gent,[42] To please all men is his intent, Alleluia. But Lord and Lady of this Hall, Whosoever against Holly call. Hallelujah. Whosoever against Holly do cry, In a lepe[43] he shall hang full high. Alleluia. Whosoever against Holly doth sing, He may weep and hands wring. Hallelujah. |
Ivy, Chief of Trees
Ivy, Tree Chief
The most worthy she is in town, Anyone who says otherwise is mistaken; And worthy to bear the crown; You will be crowned. Ivy is soft and meek of speech, In spite of all the troubles, she is happiness; Well is he that may her reach, [Pg 94]You will be crowned. Ivy is green with colour bright, Of all the trees, she's the best; And that I prove well now be right, You will be crowned. Ivy beareth berries black. May God grant us all His blessings; For there shall we nothing lack, You will be crowned. |
The Contest of the Ivy and the Holly
The Competition Between the Ivy and the Holly
No, Ivy, no, it won't be, I assure you, Let Holly take charge as is customary. Holly standeth in the hall, fair to behold, Ivy stands without the door; she is full sore a cold. No, Ivy, no, etc. Holly and his merry men, they dancen and they sing; Ivy and her maidens, they weepen and they wring. No, Ivy, no, etc. Ivy hath a lybe, she caught it with the cold, So may they all have, that with Ivy hold. No, Ivy, no, etc. Holly hath berries, as red as any rose, The foresters, the hunters, keep them from the does. No, Ivy, no, etc. Ivy hath berries, as black as any sloe, There comes the owl and eats them as she go. No, Ivy, no, etc. Holly hath birds, a full fair flock, The nightingale, the poppinjay, the gentle laverock. No, Ivy, no, etc. Good Ivy, good Ivy, what birds hast thou? None but the owlet that cries How! How! No, Ivy, no, etc. |
It is just as well to be particular as to the quality of the holly used in Christmas decorations; for on that depends[Pg 95] who will be the ruler of the house during the coming year—the wife or the husband. If the holly is smooth the wife will get the upper hand, but if it be prickly, then the husband will gain the supremacy. It is also unlucky to bring holly into the house before Christmas Eve. And, please, if you are doing at home any decorations for the church, be sure and make them on the ground floor, for it is specially unlucky to make anything intended for use in a church in an upper chamber.
It’s important to pay attention to the quality of the holly used in Christmas decorations; because that will determine[Pg 95] who will be in charge of the house for the upcoming year—the wife or the husband. If the holly is smooth, the wife will be in control, but if it's prickly, then the husband will be in charge. It's also bad luck to bring holly into the house before Christmas Eve. And if you're decorating for the church at home, make sure to do it on the ground floor, as it's considered very unlucky to make anything for the church in an upper room.
The custom of church decoration may possibly have been suggested by a verse in the first lesson appointed to be read on Christmas eve—lx. Isaiah, 13. "The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee, the fir tree, the pine tree, and the box together, to beautify the place of my sanctuary." Some years ago, at the commencement of the great Church revival, the Christmas decorations in churches were very elaborate, but they are now, as a rule, much quieter, and the only admissible evergreens are contained in the following distich—
The tradition of decorating churches may have been inspired by a verse from the first lesson read on Christmas Eve—lx. Isaiah, 13. "The glory of Lebanon will come to you, the fir tree, the pine tree, and the box together, to beautify the place of my sanctuary." A few years back, at the start of the major Church revival, church Christmas decorations were very elaborate, but now, as a general rule, they're much simpler, and the only acceptable evergreens are expressed in the following couplet—
Holly and Ivy, Box and Bay, Put in the Church on Christmas day. |
These decorations, both in church and in private houses, ought to be kept up until the 1st of February, Candlemas eve, when they should be burnt—a proceeding which set fire to the hall of Christ Church, Oxford, in 1719. Herrick gives the following:—
These decorations, both in churches and private homes, should be kept up until February 1st, Candlemas Eve, when they should be burned—a process that caused a fire in the hall of Christ Church, Oxford, in 1719. Herrick provides the following:—
Ceremonies for Candlemasse Eve
Candlemas Eve Ceremonies
Down with the Rosemary and Bayes, Down with the Mistletoe; Instead of Holly, now upraise The greener box (for show). The Holly, hitherto did sway; Let Box take charge; Untill the dancing Easter day, Or Easter Eve appears. The youthfull Box, which now hath grace, Your homes to update; Grown old, surrender must his place, [Pg 96]To the crisped Yew. When Yew is out, then Birch comes in, And many flowers nearby; Both of a fresh and fragrant kinne To celebrate Pentecost. Green Rushes then, and sweetest Bents, With cooler oak branches; Come in for comely ornaments, To redecorate the house Thus times do shift; each thing his turn do's hold; New things succeed, as former things grow old. |
And with Candlemas day ends all festivity connected with Christ-tide.
And with Candlemas, all the celebrations related to Christmas come to an end.
End now the White-loafe, and the Pye, And let all sports with Christmas dye. |
It would indeed be singular if an event of such importance as the birth, as man, of the Son of God had not been specially marked out by signs and wonders, and that many legends concerning these should be rife. Naturally He was welcomed by the heavenly host; and Abraham a Sancta Clara, in one of his sermons, gives a vivid description of the wonders that happened on the Nativity. "At the time when God's Son was born, there came to pass a great many wonderful circumstances. First of all, a countless multitude of angels flew from heaven, and paid their homage to the Celestial Child in various loving hymns, instead of the usual lullabie, sung to babies. Next, the deep snow, which had covered the ground in the same neighbourhood, at once disappeared; and, in its place were to be seen trees covered with a thick foliage of leaves, whilst the earth was decorated with a rich and luxuriant crop of the most beautiful flowers."
It would certainly be remarkable if a moment as significant as the birth of the Son of God didn't come with its own signs and wonders, and if countless legends about it didn't exist. Naturally, the heavenly host welcomed Him; and Abraham a Sancta Clara, in one of his sermons, vividly describes the amazing events that took place during the Nativity. "When God's Son was born, many extraordinary things occurred. First, a countless number of angels flew from heaven and honored the Celestial Child with various loving hymns instead of the usual lullaby sung to babies. Next, the deep snow that had covered the ground in that area suddenly vanished; in its place, trees appeared with thick greenery, and the earth was adorned with a rich and vibrant display of beautiful flowers."
This visitation of the angels is represented in nearly every old painting of the Nativity, some, like Botticelli, giving a whole band of angels, others contenting themselves with two or three, sufficient to indicate their presence. Fra Jacopone da Todi sings:
This visit from the angels is shown in almost every old painting of the Nativity, with some, like Botticelli, featuring a whole group of angels, while others are satisfied with just two or three, enough to suggest their presence. Fra Jacopone da Todi sings:
Little angels all around Danced and carols sung; Making verselets sweet and true, They sang of love. Calling saints and sinners too, With love's gentle words. |
Lope de Vega makes Our Lady caution the angels as they come through the palm trees—
Lope de Vega has Our Lady warn the angels as they come through the palm trees—
Holy angels, and blest, As you walk through these palms, Hold their branches at rest, My baby is asleep. And ye, Bethlehem palm-trees, As strong winds blow In tempest and fury, Your angry noise quiet down;— Move gently, move gently, Calm your wild swing; Hold your branches at rest, My baby is asleep. |
Mrs. Jameson[44] says that "one legend relates that Joseph went to seek a midwife, and met a woman coming down from the mountains, with whom he returned to the stable. But, when they entered, it was filled with light greater than the sun at noonday; and, as the light decreased, and they were able to open their eyes, they beheld Mary sitting there with her Infant at her bosom. And the Hebrew woman, being amazed, said: 'Can this be true?' and Mary answered, 'It is true; as there is no child like unto my son, so there is no woman like unto his mother.'"
Mrs. Jameson[44] says that "one legend tells that Joseph went to find a midwife and met a woman coming down from the mountains, with whom he returned to the stable. But when they entered, it was filled with light brighter than the sun at noon; and as the light faded and they could finally open their eyes, they saw Mary sitting there with her baby in her arms. The Hebrew woman, astonished, said: 'Could this be true?' and Mary replied, 'It is true; just as there is no child like my son, there is no woman like his mother.'"
Le Bon,[45] speaking of the cradle of Jesus, says: "According to tradition, the stone cradle contained one of wood. That of stone still exists at Bethlehem, not in its primitive state, but decorated with white marble, and enriched with magnificent draperies. The wooden one was, in the seventh century, at the time of the Mahometan Invasion in the East, transported to Rome, then become the new Jerusalem, the Bethlehem of a new people. It there reposes in the superb basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore, where it is guarded by the eternal city with more affection than the Ark of the Covenant, and with more respect than the cottage of Romulus. Centuries have not been able to enfeeble the veneration and the love[Pg 99] with which this trophy of the love of God for his creatures has been surrounded. This cradle, this sacred monument, reposes in a shrine of crystal, mounted on a stand of silver enamelled with gold and precious stones, the splendid offering of Philip IV., King of Spain. This shrine is preserved in a brazen coffer, and is only exposed for veneration—on the grand altar, once a year, on Christmas Day."
Le Bon,[45] talking about the cradle of Jesus, says: "Traditionally, the stone cradle held one made of wood. The stone version still exists in Bethlehem, though it's not in its original form; it's now decorated with white marble and adorned with beautiful fabrics. The wooden cradle was moved to Rome during the seventh century, around the time of the Muslim invasion in the East, which had become the new Jerusalem, the Bethlehem for a new people. It rests in the magnificent basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore, where it's cherished by the eternal city more than the Ark of the Covenant and honored more than the hut of Romulus. Centuries haven’t diminished the reverence and love[Pg 99] this symbol of God’s love for His creations has inspired. This cradle, this sacred monument, rests in a crystal shrine, set on a stand made of silver, enameled with gold and precious gems, a splendid gift from Philip IV, King of Spain. This shrine is kept in a bronze box and is only displayed for veneration—on the grand altar, once a year, on Christmas Day."
The ox and ass are indispensable accessories to a picture of the Nativity, and it is said that their introduction rests on an old tradition mentioned by St. Jerome, and also on a text of prophecy: "The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib."[46] Tradition says that these animals recognised and worshipped their Divine Master.
The ox and donkey are essential elements in the depiction of the Nativity, and it's believed that their presence comes from an ancient tradition noted by St. Jerome, as well as a prophecy that states: "The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master's feed trough."[46] Tradition holds that these animals recognized and worshiped their Divine Master.
In præsepe ponitur, Sub fœno asinorum, Cognoverunt Dominum, Christum, Regem cœlorum. Et a brutis noscitur, Matris velo tegitur. |
So also it is believed in many places that at midnight on Christmas eve all cattle bowed their knees; and Brand gives an instance of this legend, and says "that a Cornish peasant told him in 1790 of his having, with some others, watched several oxen in their stalls on the Eve of old Christmas Day, and that at twelve o'clock, 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."
So it’s also believed in many places that at midnight on Christmas Eve, all cattle kneel down. Brand shares an example of this legend, recounting that a Cornish farmer told him in 1790 how he and some others watched several oxen in their stalls on the eve of Christmas Day, and at midnight, they saw the two oldest oxen kneel down and, as he phrased it in the local way, let out a sad moan like human beings.
There is another legend which relates how other animals took part in the announcement of the Saviour's coming on earth. Prætorius says:
There is another legend that tells how other animals joined in announcing the Savior's arrival on earth. Prætorius says:
Vacca puer natus clamabat nocte sub ipsa, Since Christ was born of a pure virgin, He is human; Sed, quia dicenti nunquam bene creditur uni, Addebat facti testis, asellus; so. Dumque aiebat; ubi? clamoso guttere gallus; In Bethlehem, Bethlehem, the voice echoed like a sheep. Felices nimium pecudes, pecorumque magistri, Those who know celebrate Him. |
Hone describes a curious sheet of carols printed in London in 1701. "It is headed 'Christus Natus Est; Christ is born,' with a wood-cut 10 inches high by 8-1/2 inches wide, representing the stable of Bethlehem; Christ in the crib, watched by the Virgin and Joseph; shepherds kneeling, angels attending; a man playing on the bagpipes; a woman with a basket of fruit on her head; a sheep bleating, and an ox lowing on the ground; a raven croaking, and a crow cawing, on the hay rack; a cock crowing above them; and angels singing in the sky. The animals have labels from their mouths bearing Latin inscriptions. Down the side of the wood-cut is the following account and explanation:—'A religious man inventing the concerts of both birds and beasts drawn in the picture of our Saviour's birth, doth thus express them: The cock croweth, Christus natus est—Christ is born. The raven asked Quando?—When? The crow replied, Hac nocte—this night. The ox crieth out, Ubi? Ubi?—Where? Where? The sheep bleateth out Bethlehem. A voice from heaven sounded, Gloria in Excelsis—Glory be on high!'"
Hone describes an interesting sheet of carols printed in London in 1701. "It's titled 'Christ is born; Christ is born,' featuring a woodcut that is 10 inches high and 8-1/2 inches wide, depicting the stable of Bethlehem; Christ in the crib, watched by the Virgin Mary and Joseph; shepherds kneeling, angels present; a man playing bagpipes; a woman with a basket of fruit on her head; a sheep bleating, and an ox lowing on the ground; a raven croaking and a crow cawing on the hay rack; a rooster crowing above them; and angels singing in the sky. The animals have labels from their mouths with Latin inscriptions. Along the side of the woodcut is the following account and explanation:—'A religious man who invented the concerts of both birds and beasts shown in the picture of our Savior's birth expresses them as follows: The rooster crows, Christus natus est—Christ is born. The raven asks, Quando?—When? The crow replies, Hac nocte—this night. The ox calls out, Ubi? Ubi?—Where? Where? The sheep bleats out Bethlehem. A voice from heaven sounded, Gloria in Excelsis—Glory be on high!'"
Another pictorial representation of this legend is mentioned by the Rev. Dr. John Mason Neale in The Unseen World (p. 27). An example which, in modern times, would be considered ludicrous, of the manner in which our ancestors made external Nature bear witness to our Lord, occurs in what is called the Prior's Chamber in the small Augustinian house of Shulbrede, in the parish of Linchmere, in Sussex. On the wall is a fresco of the Nativity; and certain animals are made to give their testimony to that event in words which somewhat resemble, or may be supposed to resemble, their natural sounds. A cock, in the act of crowing, stands at the top, and a label, issuing from his mouth, bears the words, Christus natus est. A duck inquires, Quando? Quando? A raven hoarsely answers, In hac nocte. A cow asks, Ubi? Ubi? And a lamb bleats out Bethlehem.
Another pictorial representation of this legend is mentioned by Rev. Dr. John Mason Neale in The Unseen World (p. 27). An example that would seem ridiculous in modern times, of how our ancestors made external nature witness to our Lord, is found in what is called the Prior's Chamber in the small Augustinian house of Shulbrede, in the parish of Linchmere, in Sussex. On the wall is a fresco of the Nativity, and certain animals give their testimony to that event in words that somewhat resemble, or could be imagined to resemble, their natural sounds. A rooster, in the act of crowing, stands at the top, and a label coming from his mouth says, Christus natus est. A duck asks, Quando? Quando? A raven hoarsely replies, In hac nocte. A cow inquires, Ubi? Ubi? And a lamb bleats out Bethlehem.
This idea that beasts were endowed with human speech on Christmas night was very widespread, as the following legend well instances, it being common both to Switzerland and Suabia. One Christmas night, in order to test the truth of this legend, a peasant crept slyly upon that solemn and holy night into the stable, where his oxen were quietly chew[Pg 101]ing the hay set before them. An instant after the peasant had hidden himself, one of the oxen said to another "We are going to have a hard and heavy task to do this week." "How is that? the harvest is got in and we have drawn home all the winter fuel." "That is so," was the reply, "but we shall have to drag a coffin to the churchyard, for our poor master will most certainly die this week." The peasant shrieked, and fell back, senseless, was taken home, and the ox's prophecy was duly fulfilled.
This idea that animals could speak like humans on Christmas night was very common, as the following legend illustrates, being shared by people in both Switzerland and Swabia. One Christmas night, to test the truth of this legend, a peasant quietly crept into the stable where his oxen were peacefully chewing the hay set before them. Just after the peasant hid himself, one of the oxen said to another, "We’re going to have a tough job this week." "How come? The harvest is in and we’ve brought home all the winter fuel." "That’s true," came the reply, "but we’ll have to pull a coffin to the churchyard because our poor master is definitely going to die this week." The peasant screamed and collapsed, unconscious. He was taken home, and the ox's prophecy came true.
It is also thought that the cocks crow all night at Christmas, and Bourne says, anent this belief, that it was about the time of cock crowing when our Saviour was born, and the heavenly host had then descended to sing the first Christmas carol to the poor shepherds in the fields of Bethlehem.
It’s also believed that roosters crow all night on Christmas, and Bourne mentions, regarding this belief, that it was around the time of rooster crowing when our Savior was born, and the heavenly host descended to sing the first Christmas carol to the poor shepherds in the fields of Bethlehem.
Shakespeare mentions this popular tradition in Hamlet, act i. sc. i.:—
Shakespeare talks about this well-known tradition in Hamlet, act i. sc. i.:—
Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The 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. |
But there is yet another legend of cock-crowing which is found in a carol for St. Stephen's Day, temp. Henry VI.:—
But there's another legend about crowing roosters found in a carol for St. Stephen's Day, during the reign of Henry VI.:—
Saint Stephen was a clerk In King Herod's hall, And served him of bread and cloth, As always, King befall. Stephen out of kitchen came With a boar's head in hand, He saw a star was fair and bright Over Bethlehem stands. He cast adown the boar his head, And entered the hall. "I forsake thee, King Herod, And all your works. "I forsake thee, King Herod, And all your works, There is a Child in Bethlem born, "Is better than all of us." "What aileth thee, Stephen, What is happening to you? Lacketh thee either meat or drink, In King Herod's hall? "Lacketh me neither meat nor drink, In King Herod's hall; There is a Child in Bethlem born, [Pg 102]"Is better than all of us." "What aileth thee, Stephen, Are you mad,__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ or eager to spread__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_1__? Lacketh thee either gold or fee, Or any fancy weed?"[49] "Lacketh me neither gold nor fee, Nor any wealthy marijuana, There is a child in Bethlem born "Will help us in our time of need." "That is all so sooth, Stephen, All so soothing, I wish, As this capon crow shall, "That lies here on my plate." That word was not so soon said, That word in that room, The Capon crew, Christus natus est! Among the nobles, all. Riseth up my tormentors, By twos, and all by ones, And leadeth Stephen out of this town And stone him with rocks. Tooken they Stephen And they stoned him along the way, And therefore is his even, On Christ's own day. |
There are several minor legends of animals and Christ-tide—for instance, at this time the bees are said to hum the Old Hundredth Psalm, but this is mild to what Olaus Magnus tells us Of the Fiercenesse of Men, who by Charms are turned into Wolves:—"In the Feast of Christ's Nativity, in the night, at a certain place, that they are resolved upon amongst themselves, there is gathered together such a huge multitude of Wolves changed from men, that dwell in divers places, which afterwards, the same night, doth so rage with wonderfull fiercenesse, both against mankind, and other creatures that are not fierce by nature, that the Inhabitants of that country suffer more hurt from them than ever they do from the true natural Wolves. For, as it is proved, they sit upon the houses of men that are in the Woods, with wonderfull fiercenesse, and labour to break down the doors, whereby they may destroy both men and other creatures that remain there.
There are several small legends about animals and Christmas time—for example, it’s said that bees hum the old hymn “Old Hundredth Psalm” during this season, but that’s mild compared to what Olaus Magnus tells us in Of the Fierceness of Men, who by Charms are turned into Wolves:—"On the night of Christ's Nativity, at a specific place they've all agreed upon, a massive group of wolves transformed from men gathers together. They come from different areas and that same night, they unleash such incredible fury against humans and other creatures that aren’t typically fierce, that the local people suffer more harm from them than they do from actual wolves. It’s said that they sit on the rooftops of houses near the woods with astonishing ferocity, trying to break down the doors to destroy both people and other beings that are inside."
"They go into the Beer-Cellars, and there they drink out some Tuns of Beer or Mede, and they heap al the empty vessels one upon another in the midst of the Cellar, and so leave them; wherin they differ from the natural and true Wolves. But the place, where, by chance they stayed that night, the Inhabitants of those Countries think to be prophetical; Because, if any ill successe befall a Man in that place; as if his Cart overturn, and he be thrown down in the Snow, they are fully persuaded that man must die that year, as they[Pg 103] have, for many years, proved it by experience. Between Lituania, Samogetia and Curonia, there is a certain wall left, of a Castle that was thrown down; to this, at a set time, some thousands of them come together, that each of them may try his nimblenesse in leaping. He that cannot leap over this wall, as commonly the fat ones cannot, are beaten with whips by their Captains."
"They head into the beer cellars, where they drink some barrels of beer or mead, and they stack all the empty vessels one on top of another in the middle of the cellar, then just leave them there; this is how they differ from real wolves. But the place where they happen to stay that night is considered prophetic by the locals. If anything bad happens to someone in that spot—like their cart tipping over and falling into the snow—they truly believe that person will die that year, as they've proven by experience for many years. Between Lithuania, Samogitia, and Courland, there is a remaining wall from a castle that was torn down; at a certain time, thousands of them gather there to test their agility in jumping. Those who can't leap over the wall, usually the heavier ones, are whipped by their captains."
There is a story told of another Magnus, only in this case it was a Saint of that name. On Christmas eve, in the year 1012, a party of about thirty-three young men and women were merrily dancing in the churchyard of a certain church, dedicated to St. Magnus. A priest was at his devotions inside the church, and was so much disturbed by their merriment that he sent to them, asking them to desist for a while. But of this they took no heed, although the message was more than once repeated. Thereupon, waxing indignant, the holy man prayed his patron saint, St. Magnus, to visit the offenders with condign punishment. His prayer was heard, and the result was that the festive crew could not leave off dancing. For twelve whole months they continued dancing; night and day, winter and summer, through sunshine or storm, they had to prance. They knew no weariness, they needed no rest, nor did their clothes or boots wear out; but they wore away the surface of the earth so much that at the end of the twelvemonths they were in a hole up to their middles. The legend goes on to say, that on the expiration of their Terpsichorean punishment they slept continuously for three days and nights.
There’s a story about another Magnus, but this time it was a saint with that name. On Christmas Eve in the year 1012, a group of about thirty-three young men and women were happily dancing in the churchyard of a church dedicated to St. Magnus. A priest was inside the church, praying, and was so disturbed by their joy that he sent a message asking them to stop for a bit. However, they ignored him, even though the request was made more than once. Angered, the holy man prayed to his patron saint, St. Magnus, to punish the wrongdoers. His prayer was answered, and the result was that the dancers could not stop. They danced nonstop for a whole year; day and night, through winter and summer, in sunshine or rain, they couldn’t stop moving. They felt no fatigue, needed no breaks, and their clothes and shoes didn’t wear out; instead, they dug a hole in the earth so deep that by the end of the year, they were sunk up to their waists. The legend continues to say that once their dancing punishment was over, they slept for three straight days and nights.
There are some curious legends of underground bells which sound only at Christmas. A writer in Notes and Queries (5 series, ii. 509) says—"Near Raleigh, Notts, there is a valley said to have been caused by an earthquake several hundred years ago, which swallowed up a whole village, together with the Church. Formerly, it was a custom of the people to assemble in this valley every Christmas Day morning to listen to the ringing of the bells of the Church beneath them. This, it was positively stated, might be heard by placing the ear to the ground, and hearkening attentively. As late as 1827 it was usual on this morning for old men and women to tell their children and young friends to go to the[Pg 104] valley, stoop down, and hear the bells ring merrily. The villagers heard the ringing of the bells of a neighbouring church, the sound of which was communicated by the surface of the ground. A similar belief exists, or did, a short time ago, at Preston, Lancashire."
There are some intriguing legends about underground bells that only ring at Christmas. A writer in Notes and Queries (5 series, ii. 509) states—"Near Raleigh, Notts, there's a valley believed to have been created by an earthquake several hundred years ago, which swallowed up an entire village, including the church. It used to be a tradition for people to gather in this valley every Christmas Day morning to listen for the bells of the church below them. It was said that you could hear them if you pressed your ear to the ground and listened carefully. Up until 1827, it was common for older men and women to tell their children and young friends to go to the [Pg 104] valley, bend down, and listen for the bells ringing joyfully. The villagers could hear the bells from a nearby church, the sound of which traveled through the ground's surface. A similar belief existed, or did until recently, in Preston, Lancashire."
This legend is not peculiar to England, for there is the same told of a place in the Netherlands, named Been, near Zoutleeuw, now engulphed in the ocean. It was a lovely and a stately city, but foul with sin, when our Lord descended to earth upon a Christmas night to visit it. All the houses were flaming with lights, and filled with luxury and debauchery; and, as our Lord, in the guise of a beggar, passed from door to door, there was not found a single person who would afford Him the slightest relief. Then, in His wrath, He spoke one word, and the waves of the sea rushed over the wicked city, and it was never seen more; but the place where it was immersed is known by the sound of the church bells coming up through the waters on a Christmas night.
This legend isn't unique to England; a similar story is told about a place in the Netherlands called Been, near Zoutleeuw, which is now submerged in the ocean. It was a beautiful and grand city, but filled with sin when our Lord came down to earth on Christmas night to visit it. All the houses were bright with lights and overflowing with luxury and partying. As our Lord, disguised as a beggar, went from door to door, He found not a single person willing to offer Him even the slightest help. Then, in His anger, He spoke one word, and the waves of the sea swept over the sinful city, and it was never seen again. But the spot where it sank is known by the sound of church bells ringing from beneath the waters on Christmas night.
In spite of Shakespeare's dictum that "no spirit dares stir abroad," the rule would not seem to obtain in the Isle of Man—for there is a legend there, how a fiddler, having agreed with a stranger to play, during the twelve days of Christmas, to whatever company he should bring him, was astonished at seeing his new master vanish into the earth as soon as the bargain had been made. Terrified at the thought of having agreed to work for such a mysterious personage, he quickly resorted to the clergyman, who ordered him to fulfil his engagement, but to play nothing but psalms. Accordingly, as soon as Christ-tide arrived, the weird stranger made his appearance, and beckoned the fiddler to a spot where some company was assembled. On reaching his destination, he at once struck up a psalm tune, which so enraged his audience that they instantly vanished, but not without so violently bruising him that it was with difficulty that he reached home to tell his novel Christmas experience.
In spite of Shakespeare's saying that "no spirit dares stir abroad," this rule doesn’t seem to apply on the Isle of Man—there's a legend about a fiddler who made a deal with a stranger to play during the twelve days of Christmas for whatever company he brought. He was shocked to see his new master vanish into the ground right after they struck the deal. Terrified at the thought of working for such a mysterious figure, he quickly went to the clergyman, who told him to honor his commitment but to play only psalms. When Christmas time came, the strange man showed up and signaled the fiddler to follow him to where some people were gathered. When he arrived, he immediately started playing a psalm tune, which made the audience so angry that they vanished on the spot, but not before they hurt him badly, making it hard for him to get home to share his unusual Christmas adventure.
Even the vegetable world contributed to the wonders of Christmas, for was there not the famous Glastonbury Thorn which blossomed on old Christmas day? Legend says that this was the walking staff of Joseph of Arimathæa, who, after Christ's death, came over to England and settled at Glastonbury, where, having planted his staff in the ground, it put forth leaves, and miraculously flowered on the festival of the Nativity; and it is a matter of popular belief, not always followed out by practice, that it does so to this day. The fact is that this thorn, the Cratægus præcox, will, in a mild and suitable season, blossom before Christmas. It is not a particularly rare plant. Aubrey thus speaks of it in his Natural History of Wiltshire.
Even the plant world contributed to the wonders of Christmas, for wasn't there the famous Glastonbury Thorn that bloomed on Christmas Day? Legend has it that this was the walking staff of Joseph of Arimathea, who, after Christ's death, came to England and settled in Glastonbury. He planted his staff in the ground, and it sprouted leaves, miraculously blooming on the celebration of the Nativity; it’s commonly believed, though not always practiced, that it still does so today. The truth is that this thorn, the Cratægus præcox, will, in a mild and suitable season, bloom before Christmas. It’s not a particularly rare plant. Aubrey mentions it in his Natural History of Wiltshire.
"Mr. Anthony Hinton, one of the Officers of the Earle of Pembroke, did inoculate, not long before the late civill warres (ten yeares or more), a bud of Glastonbury Thorne, on a thorne, at his farm house, at Wilton, which blossoms at Christmas, as the other did. My mother has had branches of them for a flower-pott, several Christmasses, which I have seen. Elias Ashmole, Esq., in his notes upon Theatrum Chymicum, saies that in the churchyard of Glastonbury grew a walnutt tree that did putt out young leaves at Christmas, as doth the King's Oake in the New Forest. In Parham Park, in Suffolk (Mr. Boutele's), is a pretty ancient thorne, that blossomes like that at Glastonbury; the people flock hither to see it on Christmas Day. But in the rode that leades from Worcester[Pg 106] to Droitwiche is a black thorne hedge at Clayes, half a mile long or more, that blossoms about Christmas day, for a week or more together. Dr. Ezerel Tong sayd that about Rumly-Marsh, in Kent, are thornes naturally like that near Glastonbury. The Soldiers did cutt downe that near Glastonbury; the stump remaines."
"Mr. Anthony Hinton, one of the officers of the Earl of Pembroke, inoculated a bud from the Glastonbury Thorn onto another thorn at his farmhouse in Wilton, just before the recent civil wars (more than ten years ago). This tree blooms at Christmas, just like the original. My mother has had branches of them in a flower pot several Christmases, which I've seen. Elias Ashmole, Esq., in his notes on Theatrum Chymicum, notes that there was a walnut tree in the churchyard of Glastonbury that sprouted new leaves at Christmas, similar to the King’s Oak in the New Forest. In Parham Park, in Suffolk (Mr. Boutele's), there’s a lovely ancient thorn that blossoms like the one at Glastonbury; people gather to see it on Christmas Day. However, on the road from Worcester[Pg 106] to Droitwich, there’s a blackthorn hedge at Clayes, over half a mile long, that blooms around Christmas for a week or more. Dr. Ezerel Tong mentioned that there are thorns similar to the one near Glastonbury around Rumly-Marsh in Kent. The soldiers cut down the one near Glastonbury; the stump remains."
Several trees which are descended by cuttings from the Holy Thorn still exist in and about Glastonbury. One of them, of somewhat scanty and straggling growth, occupies the site of the original thorn, on the summit of Weary-all Hill. Another, a much finer tree, compact and healthy, stands on private premises, near the entrance of a house that faces the abbot's kitchen. These descendants of the Holy Thorn inherit the famous peculiarity of that tree.
Several trees that were grown from cuttings of the Holy Thorn are still found in and around Glastonbury. One of them, which has a somewhat sparse and uneven growth, is located where the original thorn stood, on the top of Weary-all Hill. Another, a much more impressive tree, which is full and healthy, stands on private property, near the entrance of a house that faces the abbot's kitchen. These descendants of the Holy Thorn carry on the well-known characteristic of that tree.
The Gentleman's Magazine for 1753, has the following in its "Historical Chronicle" for January. "Quainton in Buckinghamshire, Dec. 24. Above 2000 people came here this night, with lanthorns and candles, to view a black thorn which grows in the neighbourhood, and which was remembered (this year only) to be a slip from the famous Glastonbury Thorn, that it always budded on the 24th, was full blown the next day, and went all off at night; but the people, finding no appearance of a bud, 'twas agreed by all that Decemb. 25, N.S., could not be the right Christmas Day,[50] and, accordingly, refused going to Church, and treating their friends on that day, as usual: at length the affair became so serious that the ministers of the neighbouring villages, in order to appease the people, thought it prudent to give notice that the old Christmas Day should be kept holy as before.
The Gentleman's Magazine for 1753 reports the following in its "Historical Chronicle" for January: "Quainton in Buckinghamshire, Dec. 24. Over 2000 people gathered here tonight, with lanterns and candles, to see a black thorn that grows nearby, which was believed (only this year) to be a descendant of the famous Glastonbury Thorn. It was said to always bud on the 24th, fully blooming the next day, and then fading away by night; however, since the people found no sign of a bud, everyone agreed that December 25, N.S., couldn’t be the real Christmas Day,[50] and so they refused to go to church and treat their friends that day, as was customary. Eventually, the situation became so serious that the ministers from the nearby villages, to calm the people, decided it would be wise to announce that the old Christmas Day would be observed as it had been before."
"Glastonbury. A vast concourse of people attended the noted thorns on Christmas Eve, New Stile; but, to their great disappointment, there was no appearance of its blowing, which made them watch it narrowly the 5th of Jan., the Christmas-day, Old Stile, when it blow'd as usual."
"Glastonbury. A large crowd of people gathered to see the famous thorns on Christmas Eve, New Style; however, much to their disappointment, there was no sign of them blooming. This led them to keep a close eye on it on the 5th of Jan., the Christmas Day, Old Style, when it bloomed as expected."
A writer in Notes and Queries (3 series ix. 33) says, "A friend of mine met a girl on Old Christmas Day, in a village of North Somerset, who told him that she was going to see[Pg 107] the Christmas Thorn in blossom. He accompanied her to an orchard, where he found a tree, propagated from the celebrated Glastonbury Thorn, and gathered from it several sprigs in blossom. Afterwards, the girl's mother informed him that it had, formerly, been the custom for the youth of both sexes to assemble under the tree at midnight, on Christmas Eve, in order to hear the bursting of the buds into flower; and, she added, 'As they com'd out, you could hear 'em haffer.'"[51]
A writer in Notes and Queries (3 series ix. 33) says, "A friend of mine met a girl on Old Christmas Day in a village in North Somerset who told him she was going to see[Pg 107] the Christmas Thorn in bloom. He went with her to an orchard, where he found a tree that was grown from the famous Glastonbury Thorn, and he picked several blooming sprigs from it. Later, the girl’s mother told him that it used to be a tradition for young people of both genders to gather under the tree at midnight on Christmas Eve to listen for the buds bursting into flower; and she added, 'As they came out, you could hear them popping.'"[51]
This celebration of Christ-tide was not confined to this thorn—some oaks put forth leaves on Christmas day. Aubrey says that an oak in the New Forest "putteth forth young leaves on Christmas-day, for about a week at that time of the yeare. Old Mr. Hastings, of Woodlands, was wont to send a basket full of them to King Charles I. I have seen of them several Christmasses brought to my father. But Mr. Perkins, who lives in the New Forest, sayes that there are two other oakes besides that, which breed green buddes after Christmas day (pollards also), but not constantly."
This celebration of Christmastime wasn't limited to this thorn—some oaks sprouted leaves on Christmas Day. Aubrey notes that an oak in the New Forest "puts forth young leaves on Christmas Day, for about a week at that time of year." Old Mr. Hastings from Woodlands used to send a basket full of them to King Charles I. I've seen several of them brought to my father over the Christmases. However, Mr. Perkins, who lives in the New Forest, says that there are two other oaks besides that one, which also produce green buds after Christmas Day (pollards too), but not consistently.
There is yet another bit of Folk-lore anent flowers and Christ-tide which may be found in The Connoisseur, No. 56, Feb. 20, 1755. "Our maid, Betty, tells me that, if I go backwards, without speaking a word, into the garden, upon Midsummer Eve, and gather a Rose, and keep it in a clean sheet of paper, without looking at it, 'till Christmas day, it will be as fresh as in June; and, if I then stick it in my bosom, he that is to be my husband will come and take it out."
There’s another piece of folklore about flowers and Christmas that can be found in The Connoisseur, No. 56, Feb. 20, 1755. "Our maid, Betty, tells me that if I walk backward, without saying a word, into the garden on Midsummer Eve, and pick a rose, then keep it in a clean sheet of paper without looking at it until Christmas Day, it will be as fresh as it was in June; and if I then tuck it in my bosom, the one who is meant to be my husband will come and take it out."
It is perhaps as well to know what will happen to us if the Feast of the Nativity falls on a particular day in the week—as, according to the proverb, "forewarned is fore armed."
It might be good to know what will happen to us if Christmas falls on a certain day of the week—as the saying goes, "forewarned is forearmed."
Nowe takethe heed, euery man, That englisshe vnderstonde can, If that Crystmasse day falle Vpon Sonday, wittethe weel alle, That wynter saysoun shal been esy, Save gret wyndes on lofft shal flye. The somer affter al-so bee drye, And right saysounable, I seye. Beestis and sheepe shal threue right weel, But other vytayle shal fayle, mooste deel.[Pg 108] Understood. Please provide the text you would like me to modernize.[52] Be kynde shal, with-outen lees, Alle landes thanne shal haue pees. But offt-tymes, for synne that is doone, Grace is wyth-drawen from many oone And goode tyme alle thinges for to do; But who-so feelethe, is sone for-do. What chylde that day is borne, Gret and ryche he shal be of Corne. If Cristmasse day on Monday bee, Gret wynter that yeer shal ghee see, And ful of wynde lowde and scille;[53] But the somer, truwly to telle, Shal bee sterne with wynde also, Ful of tempeste eeke ther-too; And vitayles shal soo multeplye, And gret moryne of bestes shal hye. They that bee borne, with-outen weene, Shoulle be strong men and kene. If Crystmasse day on Tuysday be, Wymmen shal dye gret plentee. That wynter shal shewe gret merveylle Shippes shal bee in gret parayle; That yeer shal kynges and lordes bee sleyne, In lande, of werre gret woone,[54] certayne. A drye somer shal be that yeere; Alle that been borne that day in-feere, They been stronge and coveytous, But theyre ende shal be petous;[55] They shal dye with swerd or knyff. If thou stele ought, hit leesethe thy lyfe; But if thou falle seeke, certayne, Thou shalt tourne to lyf ageyne. If that the Cristmasse day Falle vpon a Weddensday, That yeere shal be hardee and strong, And many huge wyndes amonge. The somer goode and mury shal be, And that yeere shal be plentee. Yonge folkes shal dye alsoo; [Pg 109]Shippes in the see, tempest and woo. What chylde that day is borne is his Fortune to be doughty and wys, Discrete al-so and sleeghe of deede, To fynde feel[56] folkes mete and weede.[57] If Cristmasse day on therusday bee, A wonder wynter yee shoule see, Of wyndes, and of weders wicke,[58] Tempestes eeke many and thicke. The somer shal bee strong and drye, Corne and beestes shal multeplye, Ther as the lande is goode of tilthe; But kynges and lordes shal dye by filthe What chylde that day eborne bee, He shal no dowte Right weel ethee,[59] Of deedes that been good and stable. Of speeche ful wyse and Raysonable. Who-so that day bee thefft aboute, He shall bee shent,[60] with-outen doute; But if seeknesse that day thee felle, Hit may not long with thee dwelle. If Cristmasse day on fryday be, The frost of wynter harde shal be, The frost, snowe and the floode; But at the eende hit shal bee goode. The somer goode and feyre alsoo, Folke in eerthe shal haue gret woo. Wymmen with chylde, beestes and corne, Shal multeplye, and noon be lorne.[61] The children that been borne that day, Shoule longe lyve, and lechcherous ay. If Cristmasse day on saturday falle, That wynter wee most dreeden alle. Hit shal bee ful of foule tempest, That hit shal slee bothe man and beest. Fruytes and corne shal fayle, gret woone, And eelde folk dye many oon. What woman that of chylde travayle, They shoule bee boothe in gret parayle. And children that been borne that day, With June half yeere shal dy, no nay. |
The Shepherd's Kalendar says: "If the sun shines clear and bright on Christmas day, it promises a peaceful year, free from clamours and strife, and foretells much plenty to ensue; but if the wind blows stormy towards sunset, it betokens sickness in the spring and autumn quarters."
The Shepherd's Kalendar says: "If the sun shines clear and bright on Christmas day, it promises a peaceful year, free from noise and conflict, and predicts a lot of abundance to come; but if the wind blows stormy toward sunset, it indicates sickness in the spring and fall."
Another authority, Husband-man's Practice, warns us that "when Christmas day cometh while the moon waxeth, it shall be a very good year, and the nearer it cometh to the new moon, the better shall that year be. If it cometh when the moon decreaseth, it shall be a hard year, and the nearer the latter end thereof it cometh, the worse and harder shall the year be."
Another source, Husband-man's Practice, advises that "when Christmas Day falls during a waxing moon, it will be a very good year, and the closer it is to the new moon, the better that year will be. If it falls when the moon is waning, it will be a tough year, and the closer it is to the end of that period, the worse and more difficult the year will be."
The same book says: "The wise and cunning masters in Astrology have found that men may see and mark the weather of the holy Christmas night, how the whole year after shall be in his working and doing, and they shall speak on this wise:
The same book says: "The wise and clever experts in Astrology have discovered that people can observe and note the weather on the holy Christmas night, which will indicate how the entire year will go in their work and actions, and they will say this:"
"When on the Christmas night and evening it is very fair and clear weather, and is without wind and rain, then it is a token that this year will be plenty of wine and fruite.
"When it's a clear and beautiful night on Christmas, with no wind or rain, it's a sign that this year will have plenty of wine and fruit."
"But if the contrariwise, foul weather and windy, so shall it be very scant of wine and fruite.
"But if the opposite happens, and the weather is bad and windy, then there will be very little wine and fruit."
"But if the wind arise at the rising of the sun, then it betokeneth great dearth among beasts and cattle this year.
"But if the wind picks up with the sunrise, then it signals a great shortage among animals and livestock this year."
"But if the wind arise at the going down of the same, then it signifieth death to come among kings and other great lords."
"But if the wind picks up at sunset, it means death is coming for kings and other powerful lords."
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CHAPTER 15 Withholding Light—"Wesley Bob"—Wassail Carol—Presents in Church—Morris Dancers—"First Foot"—Red-haired Men—Lamprey Pie—"Hodening"—Its Possible Origin—The "Mari Lhoyd." |
There was a curious tradition in the north of England, which is practically done away with in these days of lucifer matches. In the old days of tinder boxes, if any one failed to get a light, it was of no use his going round to the neighbours to get one, for even his dearest friends would refuse him, it being considered most unlucky to allow any light to leave the house between Christmas eve and New Year's day, both inclusive. No reason has been found for this singular and somewhat churlish custom.
There was a strange tradition in the north of England that has almost disappeared now that we have matches. Back in the days of tinder boxes, if someone couldn't get a light, it wouldn't help to go to the neighbors for one, because even their closest friends would turn them down, as it was seen as very unlucky to let any light leave the house between Christmas Eve and New Year's Day, including both days. No one knows why this unusual and somewhat unfriendly custom existed.
Another north country custom, especially at Leeds, was for the children to go from house to house carrying a "Wessel (or Wesley) bob," a kind of bower made of evergreens, inside which were placed a couple of dolls, representing the Virgin and Infant Christ. This was covered with a cloth until they came to a house door, when it was uncovered. At Huddersfield, a "wessel bob" was carried about, gorgeously ornamented with apples, oranges, and ribbons, and when they reached a house door they sung the following carol:
Another northern custom, especially in Leeds, was for children to go from house to house carrying a "Wessel (or Wesley) bob," a sort of bower made of evergreens, inside which were placed a couple of dolls representing the Virgin and Infant Christ. This was covered with a cloth until they arrived at a house door, when it was unveiled. In Huddersfield, a "wessel bob" was paraded around, beautifully decorated with apples, oranges, and ribbons, and when they reached a house door, they sang the following carol:
Here we come a wassailing Among the lush green leaves, Here we come a wandering So beautiful to behold. Chorus. For it is in Christmas time Strangers travel near and far, So God bless you, and send you a happy New Year. We are not daily beggars, That beg from door to door, But we are neighbours' children, Who you have seen before. Call up the butler of this house, Wearing his gold ring, Let him bring us a glass of beer, [Pg 112]And the better we will sing. We have got a little purse Made of stretchy leather, We want a little of your money To align it properly. Bring us out a Table, And spread it out with a cloth; Bring out a mouldy cheese, Your Christmas bread. God bless the Master of the house, Likewise, the Mistress as well, And all the little children They go around the table. Good master and mistress, While you're sitting by the fire, Pray think of us poor children Who are wandering in the mud.[62] |
At Aberford, near Leeds, two dolls were carried about in boxes in a similar manner, and they were called "wesley (wassail) boxes."
At Aberford, near Leeds, two dolls were carried around in boxes in a similar way, and they were called "Wesley (wassail) boxes."
Whilst on the subject of Yorkshire Christmas customs, I may mention that a correspondent of the Gentleman's Magazine (1790, vol. 60, p. 719), says that at Ripon the singing boys came into the church with large baskets of red apples, with a sprig of rosemary stuck in each, which they present to all the congregation, and generally have a return made to them of 2d., 4d., or 6d., according to the quality of the lady or gentleman.
While discussing Yorkshire Christmas traditions, I should mention that a writer for the Gentleman's Magazine (1790, vol. 60, p. 719) notes that in Ripon, the singing boys entered the church carrying large baskets filled with red apples, each decorated with a sprig of rosemary. They offered these apples to the congregation, and typically received a return gift of 2d., 4d., or 6d., depending on the status of the lady or gentleman.
In the History of Yorkshire (1814, p. 296) it tells how, during the Christmas holidays, the Sword or Morisco Dance used to be practised at Richmond by young men dressed in shirts ornamented with ribbons folded into roses, having swords, or wood cut in the form of that weapon. They exhibited various feats of activity, attended by an old fiddler, by "Bessy," in the grotesque habit of an old woman, and by the fool, almost covered with skins, a hairy cap on his head, and the tail of a fox hanging from his head. These led the festive throng, and diverted the crowd with their droll antic buffoonery. The office of one of these characters was to go about rattling a box, and soliciting money from door to door to defray the expenses of a feast, and a dance in the evening.[63]
In the History of Yorkshire (1814, p. 296), it describes how, during the Christmas holidays, the Sword or Morisco Dance was practiced in Richmond by young men wearing shirts decorated with ribbons shaped like roses, brandishing swords or wooden replicas of them. They performed various acts of agility, accompanied by an old fiddler, a character named "Bessy," dressed in the humorous attire of an old woman, and a fool, nearly covered in furs, wearing a furry cap and a fox tail dangling from his head. These characters led the festive crowd and entertained everyone with their silly antics. One of these figures was responsible for going around shaking a box and asking for donations from door to door to cover the costs of a feast and a dance later that evening.[63]
In Sheffield the custom of "first-foot" is kept up on[Pg 113] Christmas day and New Year's day, but there is no distinction as to complexion or colour of hair of the male who first enters the house.
In Sheffield, the tradition of "first-footing" continues on[Pg 113] Christmas Day and New Year's Day, but there’s no difference in the complexion or hair color of the man who first walks into the house.
A correspondent in Notes and Queries (3rd series, i. 223), writes: "The object of desire is that the first person who enters a house on the morning of Christmas day or that of New Year's day, should have black or dark hair. Many make arrangements by special invitation that some man or boy of dark hair, and otherwise approved, should present himself at an early hour to wish the compliments of the season, and the door is not opened to let any one else in until the arrival of the favoured person. He is regaled with spice cake and cheese, and with ale or spirits, as the case may be. All the 'ill luck'—that is, the untoward circumstances of the year, would be ascribed to the accident of a person with light hair having been the first to enter a dwelling on the mornings referred to. I have known instances where such persons, innocently presenting themselves, have met with anything but a Christmas welcome. The great object of dread is a red-haired man or boy (women or girls of any coloured hair or complexion are not admissible as the first visitors at all), and all light shades are objectionable.
A contributor to Notes and Queries (3rd series, i. 223) writes: "The goal is that the first person to enter a house on Christmas morning or New Year’s Day should have black or dark hair. Many people arrange, through special invitations, for a man or boy with dark hair, who is otherwise acceptable, to come by early to extend holiday greetings, and the door isn't opened to let anyone else in until this favored person arrives. He is treated to spice cake and cheese, as well as ale or spirits, depending on the situation. Any 'bad luck'—that is, unfortunate events of the year—would be blamed on the fact that a person with light hair was the first to enter on the specified mornings. I’ve seen cases where such individuals, innocently arriving, didn’t get a warm Christmas welcome. The main source of fear is a red-haired man or boy (women or girls of any hair color or complexion are not allowed as the first visitors at all), and all light shades are frowned upon."
"I have not been able to trace the origin of the custom, nor do I remember having read any explanation of its meaning. I once heard an aged woman, who was a most stern observer of all customs of the neighbourhood, especially those which had an air of mystery or a superstition attached to them, attempt to connect the observance with the disciple who sold the Saviour. In her mind all the observances of Christmas were associated with the birth or death of Christ, and she made no distinction whatever between the events which attended the Nativity, and those which preceded and followed the Crucifixion. She told me that Judas had red hair, and it was in vain to argue with her that he had no connection whatever with the events which our Christmas solemnities and festivities were intended to commemorate. It satisfied her mind, and that was enough. After many inquiries, I was not able to obtain any answer more reasonable."[Pg 114]
"I haven't been able to figure out where the custom comes from, nor do I recall reading any explanation of what it means. I once heard an elderly woman, a strict observer of all the local customs, especially those with a hint of mystery or superstition, try to link this observance to the disciple who betrayed the Savior. In her view, all Christmas traditions were connected to the birth or death of Christ, and she made no distinction between the events of the Nativity and those that took place before and after the Crucifixion. She told me that Judas had red hair, and it was pointless to argue with her that he had no connection to the events that our Christmas celebrations were meant to remember. It was enough for her, and that satisfied her. After asking around a lot, I couldn't find any answer that made more sense."[Pg 114]
More than twenty-two years after the above, another correspondent writing on the subject to the same periodical (6th series, x. 482) says (speaking of Yorkshire): "The first person to enter the house on a Christmas morning must be a male, and the first thing brought in must be green. Some folks used to lay a bunch of holly on the doorstep on Christmas Eve, so as to be ready. Some say you must not admit a strange woman on Christmas day; but I have heard of one old gentleman near York who would never permit any woman to enter his house on a Christmas Day."
More than twenty-two years later, another writer submitted a piece about the same topic to the same magazine (6th series, x. 482) mentioning Yorkshire: "The first person to enter the house on Christmas morning has to be a man, and the first thing brought in has to be green. Some people used to put a bunch of holly on the doorstep on Christmas Eve to prepare. Some say you shouldn't let a strange woman into your home on Christmas day; but I've heard of an old man near York who would never allow any woman to enter his house on Christmas Day."
It was formerly the custom of the city of Gloucester to present a lamprey pie to the king at Christmas. This custom was kept up until early in this century, when it fell into desuetude. It was revived in 1893, not at Christmas, but in May, when a beautiful pie, with finely moulded paste, and enamelled silver skewers, which also served as spoons, was presented to Her Majesty.
It used to be a tradition in the city of Gloucester to give a lamprey pie to the king during Christmas. This tradition continued until the beginning of this century when it fell out of practice. It was brought back in 1893, not at Christmas, but in May, when a beautiful pie, with finely shaped crust and enameled silver skewers that also worked as spoons, was presented to Her Majesty.
There was, or is, a curious custom in Kent at Christ-tide called "Hodening," the best account of which that I have seen is in the Church Times of January 23, 1891: "Hodening was observed on Christmas Eve at Walmer in 1886, which was the last time I spent the festival there," writes one antiquary. Another writes: "When I was a lad, about forty-five years since, it was always the custom, on Christmas Eve, with the male farm servants from every farm in our parish of Hoath (Borough of Reculver), and neighbouring parishes of Herne and Chislet, to go round in the evening from house to house with the hoodining horse, which consisted of the imitation of a horse's head made of wood, life size, fixed on a stick about the length of a broom handle, the lower jaw of the head was made to open with hinges, a hole was made through the roof of the mouth, then another through the forehead, coming out by the throat; through this was passed a cord attached to the lower jaw, which, when pulled by the cord at the throat, caused it to close and open; on the lower jaw large-headed hobnails were driven in to form the teeth. The strongest of the lads was selected for the horse; he stooped, and made as long a back as he could, supporting himself by the stick carrying the head; then he was covered with a horsecloth, and one of his com[Pg 115]panions mounted his back. The horse had a bridle and reins. Then commenced the kicking, rearing, jumping, etc., and the banging together of the teeth. As soon as the doors were opened the 'horse' would pull his string incessantly, and the noise made can be better imagined than described. I confess that, in my very young days, I was horrified at the approach of the hoodining horse, but, as I grew older, I used to go round with them. I was at Hoath on Thursday last, and asked if the custom was still kept up. It appears it is now three or four years since it has taken place. I never heard of it in the Isle of Thanet. There was no singing going on with the hoodining horse, and the party was strictly confined to the young men who went with the horses on the farms. I have seen some of the wooden heads carved out quite hollow in the throat part, and two holes bored through the forehead to form the eyes. The lad who played the horse would hold a lighted candle in the hollow, and you can imagine how horrible it was to any one who opened the door to see such a thing close to his eyes. Carollers in those days were called hoodiners in the parishes I have named."
There was, or is, a curious custom in Kent during Christmas called "Hodening." The best description I've come across is from the Church Times dated January 23, 1891: "Hodening was observed on Christmas Eve in 1886 at Walmer, which was the last time I celebrated the holiday there," writes one local historian. Another shares, "When I was a kid, about forty-five years ago, it was always the tradition on Christmas Eve for the male farm workers from every farm in our parish of Hoath (Borough of Reculver) and neighboring parishes of Herne and Chislet to go around in the evening from house to house with the hoodening horse. This horse was an imitation horse's head made of wood, life-size, attached to a stick about the length of a broom handle. The lower jaw of the head opened with hinges, and there was a hole through the roof of the mouth and another through the forehead, coming out by the throat. A cord connected to the lower jaw ran through these holes; pulling the cord at the throat would make it open and close. Large-headed hobnails were driven into the lower jaw to look like teeth. The strongest boy was picked to be the horse; he would stoop down to create a long back while supporting himself with the stick holding the head. Then he was covered with a horsecloth, and one of his friends would get on his back. The horse wore a bridle and reins. Then the kicking, rearing, jumping, and clashing of teeth began. Once the doors opened, the 'horse' would pull his string nonstop, and the noise that resulted is better imagined than described. I admit, when I was very young, I was terrified of the approaching hoodening horse, but as I got older, I joined them. I was at Hoath last Thursday and asked if they still practiced the tradition. Apparently, it's been three or four years since it last happened. I had never heard of it being done in the Isle of Thanet. There was no singing associated with the hoodening horse, and the group was made up strictly of young men from the farms. I’ve seen some wooden heads carved out hollow in the throat part, with two holes bored through the forehead for eyes. The boy playing the horse would hold a lit candle inside the hollow, and you can imagine how frightening it was for anyone who opened the door to see such a sight so close. Carolers in those days were called hoodiners in the parishes I mentioned."
And the following communication is interesting and valuable: "Some such custom prevailed in the seventh century. In the Penitential of Archbishop Theodore (d. 690) penances are ordained for 'any who, on the Kalends of January, clothe themselves with the skins of cattle and carry heads of animals.' The practice is condemned as being dæmoniacum (see Kemble's Saxons, vol. i., p. 525). The custom would, therefore, seem to be of pagan origin, and the date is practically synchronous with Christmas, when, according to the rites of Scandinavian mythology, one of the three great annual festivals commenced. At the sacrifices which formed part of these festivals, the horse was a frequent victim in the offerings to Odin for martial success, just as in the offerings to Frey for a fruitful year the hog was the chosen animal. I venture, therefore, to suggest that hodening (or probably Odening) is a relic of the Scandinavian mythology of our forefathers."
And the following communication is interesting and valuable: "Some custom like this existed in the seventh century. In the Penitential of Archbishop Theodore (d. 690), penances are prescribed for 'anyone who, on the Kalends of January, dresses in cattle skins and carries animal heads.' This practice is condemned as being dæmoniacum (see Kemble's Saxons, vol. i., p. 525). Therefore, this custom seems to be of pagan origin, and the timing aligns closely with Christmas, which marks the start of one of the three major annual festivals in Scandinavian mythology. During these festivals, horses were often sacrificed to Odin for military success, while hogs were offered to Frey for a prosperous year. I propose, therefore, that hodening (or likely Odening) is a remnant of the Scandinavian mythology of our ancestors."
Brand says: "It has been satisfactorily shown that the Mari Lhoyd, or horse's skull decked with ribbons, which[Pg 116] used to be carried about at Christmas in Wales, was not exclusively a Welsh custom, but was known and practised in the border counties. It was undoubtedly a form of the old English Hobby Horse, one universally prevalent as a popular sport, and conducted, as the readers of Strutt, Douce, and others are already well aware, with all kinds of grotesque and whimsical mummery."
Brand says: "It's been clearly shown that the Mari Lhoyd, or horse's skull adorned with ribbons, which[Pg 116] used to be paraded around at Christmas in Wales, wasn't just a Welsh tradition but was also known and practiced in the border counties. It was definitely a version of the old English Hobby Horse, which was widely popular as a form of entertainment, involving all sorts of bizarre and whimsical performances, as readers of Strutt, Douce, and others already know."
In 1570 was published "The Popish Kingdome, or, Reigne of Antichrist, written in Latin Verse by Thomas Naogeorgus (Kirchmayer) and englished by Barnabe Googe," and in it we have some curious Christmas customs and folk-lore.
In 1570, "The Popish Kingdom, or, Reign of Antichrist, written in Latin Verse by Thomas Naogeorgus (Kirchmayer) and translated into English by Barnabe Googe," was published, which includes some interesting Christmas traditions and folklore.
Then comes the day wherein the Lorde did bring his birth to passe; Whereas at midnight up they rise, and every man to Masse. This time so holy counted is, that divers earnestly Do thinke the waters all to wine are chaunged sodainly; In that same houre that Christ himselfe was borne, and came to light, And unto water streight againe transformde and altred quight. There are beside that mindfully the money still do watch, That first to aultar commes, which then they privily do snatch. The priestes, least other should it have, takes oft the same away, Whereby they thinke, throughout the yeare to have good lucke in play, And not to lose: then straight at game till day-light do they strive, [Pg 118]To make some present proofe how well their hallowde pence wil thrive. Three Masses every priest doth sing upon that solemne day, With offrings unto every one, that so the more may play. This done, a woodden child in clowtes is on the aultar set, About the which both boyes and gyrles do daunce and trymly jet, And Carrols sing in prayse of Christ, and, for to helpe them heare, The organs aunswere every verse with sweete and solemne cheere. The priestes doe rore aloude; and round about the parentes stande, To see the sport, and with their voyce do helpe them and their hande. |
Another old Christmas belief may be found in the Golden Legend, printed by Wynkyn de Worde, where it is said, "that what persone beynge in clene lyfe desyre on thys daye (Christmas) a boone of God: as ferre as it is ryghtfull and good for hym, our lorde at reuerence of thys blessid and hye feste of his natiuite wol graunt it to hym."
Another old Christmas belief can be found in the Golden Legend, printed by Wynkyn de Worde, which states, "that anyone living a clean life who desires on this day (Christmas) a boon from God: as far as it is rightful and good for them, our Lord, in reverence of this blessed and high feast of His nativity, will grant it to them."
Most English Christmas customs, save the Christmas Tree, cards, and the stocking hung up to receive gifts, are old, but one of the prettiest modern ones that I know of was started by the Rev. J. Kenworthy, Rector of Ackworth, in Yorkshire, about forty years since, of hanging a sheaf of corn outside the church porch, on Christmas eve, for the special benefit of the birds. It seems a pity that it is not universally practised in rural parishes.
Most English Christmas customs, except for the Christmas tree, cards, and the stocking hung up to receive gifts, are quite old. However, one of the most beautiful modern traditions I know of was started by Rev. J. Kenworthy, Rector of Ackworth in Yorkshire, about forty years ago. He began the practice of hanging a sheaf of corn outside the church porch on Christmas Eve for the benefit of the birds. It's a shame that this isn't widely practiced in rural areas.
To be spoken of in the past tense also are, I fear, the Christ-tide customs of Wales—the Mari Lhoyd, or Lwyd, answering to the Kentish Hodening, and the Pulgen, or the Crowning of the Cock, which was a simple religious ceremony. About three o'clock on Christmas morning the Welsh in many parts used to assemble in church, and, after prayers and a sermon, continue there singing psalms and hymns with great devotion till it was daylight; and if, through age or infirmity, any were disabled from attending, they never failed having prayers at home and carols on our Saviour's nativity.
To be talked about in the past tense, I’m afraid, are the Christmas traditions of Wales—the Mari Lhoyd, or Lwyd, similar to the Kentish Hodening, and the Pulgen, or Crowning of the Cock, which was a simple religious ceremony. Around three o'clock on Christmas morning, people in many parts of Wales would gather in church and, after prayers and a sermon, continue singing psalms and hymns with great devotion until daylight. If anyone was unable to attend due to age or illness, they always made sure to have prayers at home and sing carols celebrating our Savior's birth.
At Tenby it was customary at four o'clock on Christmas[Pg 119] morning for the young men of the town to escort the rector with lighted torches from his residence to the church. Sometimes also, before or after Christmas day, the fishermen of Tenby dressed up one of their number, whom they called the "Lord Mayor of Pennyless Cove," with a covering of evergreens and a mask over his face; they would then carry him about, seated in a chair, with flags flying, and a couple of violins playing before him. Before every house the "Lord Mayor" would address the occupants, wishing them a merry Christmas and a happy New Year. If his good wishes were responded to with money his followers gave three cheers, the masquer would himself give thanks, and the crowd again cheered.
At Tenby, it was a tradition at four o'clock on Christmas[Pg 119] morning for the young men of the town to escort the rector from his home to the church with lit torches. Sometimes, either before or after Christmas day, the fishermen of Tenby would dress up one of their own, whom they called the "Lord Mayor of Pennyless Cove," in a covering of evergreens with a mask over his face; then they would carry him around, seated in a chair, with flags waving and a couple of violins playing in front of him. At every house, the "Lord Mayor" would greet the occupants, wishing them a merry Christmas and a happy New Year. If his kind wishes were met with money, his followers would cheer three times, the masquer would express his gratitude, and the crowd would cheer once more.
In Scotland, Christ-tide is not observed as much as in England, the Scotch reserving all their festive energy for the New Year. Yet, in some parts of Scotland, he who first opens the door on Yule day is esteemed more fortunate during the coming year than the remainder of the family, because he "lets in Yule." And Yule is treated as a real person, as some people set a table or chair, covered with a clean cloth, in the doorway, and set upon it bread and cheese for Yule. It is common also to have a table covered in the house from morning till night with bread and drink upon it, that every one who calls may take a portion, and it is considered particularly inauspicious if any one comes into a house and leaves it without doing so. However many be the callers during the day, all must partake of the good cheer.
In Scotland, Christmas isn't celebrated as much as it is in England; Scots save all their festive energy for New Year's. However, in some parts of Scotland, the first person to open the door on Christmas Day is considered luckier for the year ahead than the rest of the family because they "let in Christmas." Christmas is treated almost like a real person, with some people setting a table or chair, covered with a clean cloth, in the doorway and putting bread and cheese on it for Christmas. It’s also common to have a table in the house covered from morning till night with bread and drinks on it, so anyone who stops by can take some. It’s seen as particularly unlucky if someone comes into a house and leaves without taking anything. No matter how many visitors there are during the day, everyone is expected to enjoy the feast.
In Chambers's Popular Rhymes (ed. 1870, p. 169), it is said that the doings of the guisards (masquers) form a conspicuous feature in the New Year proceedings throughout Scotland. The evenings on which these persons are understood to be privileged to appear are those of Christmas, Hogmanay, New Year's day, and Handsel Monday. Dressed in quaint and fantastic attire, they sing a selection of songs which have been practised by them some weeks before. There were important doings, however—one of a theatrical character. There is one rude and grotesque drama (called Galatian) which they are accustomed to perform on each of the four above-mentioned nights; and which, in various fragments or versions,[Pg 120] exists in every part of Lowland Scotland. The performers, who are never less than three, but sometimes as many as six, having dressed themselves, proceed in a band from house to house, generally contenting themselves with the kitchen as an arena, whither, in mansions presided over by the spirit of good humour, the whole family will resort to witness the scene of mirth.
In Chambers's Popular Rhymes (ed. 1870, p. 169), it says that the activities of the guisards (masquers) are a noticeable part of the New Year celebrations across Scotland. The evenings when these individuals are allowed to appear are Christmas, Hogmanay, New Year's Day, and Handsel Monday. Dressed in odd and flashy costumes, they sing a variety of songs they have practiced for several weeks. However, there are significant events, one of a theatrical nature. There is a crude and exaggerated play (called Galatian) that they perform on each of the four mentioned nights; it exists in different fragments or versions,[Pg 120] all over Lowland Scotland. The performers, who are never fewer than three and can be as many as six, dress up and move in a group from house to house, usually making do with the kitchen as their stage, where, in homes filled with good cheer, the entire family gathers to enjoy the entertainment.
Grant, in his Popular Superstitions of the Highlands, says that as soon as the brightening glow of the eastern sky warns the anxious housemaid of the approach of Christmas day, she rises, full of anxiety at the prospect of her morning labours. The meal, which was steeped in the sowans bowie a fortnight ago to make the Prechdacdan sour, or sour scones, is the first object of her attention. The gridiron is put on the fire, and the sour scones are soon followed by hard cakes, soft cakes, buttered cakes, bannocks, and pannich perm. The baking being once over, the sowans pot succeeds the gridiron, full of new sowans, which are to be given to the family, agreeably to custom, this day in their beds. The sowans are boiled into the consistency of molasses, when the lagan-le-vrich, or yeast bread, to distinguish it from boiled sowans, is ready. It is then poured into as many bickers as there are individuals to partake of it, and presently served to the whole, both old and young. As soon as each despatches his bicker, he jumps out of bed—the elder branches to examine the ominous signs of the day, and the younger to enter into its amusements.
Grant, in his Popular Superstitions of the Highlands, says that as soon as the brightening glow of the eastern sky signals the approaching Christmas day, the anxious housemaid gets up, filled with worry about her morning tasks. The meal, which was soaked in the sowans bowie two weeks ago to make the Prechdacdan sour or sour scones, is her first priority. The gridiron is placed on the fire, and soon the sour scones are joined by hard cakes, soft cakes, buttered cakes, bannocks, and pannich perm. Once the baking is done, the sowans pot replaces the gridiron, filled with fresh sowans, which, following tradition, are given to the family in their beds this day. The sowans are cooked to a syrupy thickness, and when the lagan-le-vrich or yeast bread, which distinguishes it from boiled sowans, is ready, it is poured into as many bowls as there are people to serve. Then it is quickly served to everyone, both old and young. As soon as each person finishes their bowl, they leap out of bed— the older ones to check the day’s ominous signs, and the younger ones to join in the day’s fun.
Flocking to the swing—a favourite amusement on this occasion, the youngest of the family gets the first "shouder," and the next oldest to him, in regular succession. In order to add more to the spirit of the exercise, it is a common practice with the person in the swing, and the person appointed to swing him, to enter into a very warm and humorous altercation. As the swung person approaches the swinger, he exclaims, "Ei mi tu chal"—"I'll eat your kail." To this the swinger replies, with a violent shove, "Cha ni u mu chal"—"You shan't eat my kail." These threats and repulses are sometimes carried to such a height as to break down or capsize the threatener, which generally puts an end to the quarrel.
Flocking to the swing—a favorite activity on this occasion, the youngest in the family gets the first turn, followed by the next oldest in turn. To make the experience more exciting, the person in the swing and the one pushing it usually get into a lively and funny argument. As the person swinging comes closer, they shout, "Ei mi tu chal"—"I'll eat your kail." In response, the swinger shoves them with enthusiasm, saying, "Cha ni u mu chal"—"You can't eat my kail." These playful threats and pushes sometimes escalate to the point where one of them gets knocked over, which usually ends the argument.
As the day advances those minor amusements are ter[Pg 121]minated at the report of the gun, or the rattle of the ball-clubs—the gun inviting the marksmen to the Kiavamuchd, or prize-shooting, and the latter to Luchd-vouil, or the ball combatants—both the principal sports of the day. Tired at length of the active amusements of the field, they exchange them for the substantial entertainment of the table. Groaning under the "Sonsy Haggis" and many other savoury dainties, unseen for twelve months before, the relish communicated to the company by the appearance of the festive board is more easily conceived than described. The dinner once despatched, the flowing bowl succeeds, and the sparkling glass flies to and fro like a weaver's shuttle. The rest of the day is spent in dancing and games.
As the day goes on, those little amusements come to an end with the sound of the gun or the clattering of the ball clubs—the gun signaling the marksmen to the Kiavamuchd, or prize-shooting, and the ball clubs calling the competitors to Luchd-vouil—both the main sports of the day. After getting tired of the active games in the field, they switch to the hearty entertainment at the table. Burdened with the "Sonsy Haggis" and many other tasty treats that haven’t been seen in a year, the excitement brought to the group by the sight of the festive meal is more easily felt than explained. Once dinner is over, the drinks start flowing, and the sparkling glasses move back and forth like a weaver's shuttle. The rest of the day is filled with dancing and games.
An old Shetlander, telling about Yule-time in Shetland[64] in his boyhood, says: "I daresay Yule—the dear Yule I remember so well—will ere long be known and spoken of only as a tradition; for, altogether, life in those islands is now very different from what it was some fifty or sixty years ago." Yule, it seems, was then kept on old Christmas day, and great were the preparations made for it. Everybody had to have a new suit of clothes for the season, and the day began with a breakfast at nine—a veritable feast of fat things; and "before we rise from the table, we have yet to partake of the crowning glory of a Yule breakfast, and without which we should not look upon it as a Yule breakfast at all. From the sideboard are now brought and set before our host a large china punch-bowl, kept expressly for the purpose; a salver, with very ancient, curiously-shaped large glasses—also kept sacred to the occasion—and a cake-basket heaped with rich, crisp shortbread. The bowl contains whipcol, the venerable and famous Yule breakfast beverage. I do not know the origin or etymology of the name whipcol. I do not think it is to be found in any of the dictionaries. I do not know if it was a Yule drink of our Viking ancestors in the days of paganism. I do not know if there was any truth in the tradition that it was the favourite drink of the dwellers in Valhalla, gods and heroes, when they kept their high Yule festival. But this I know, there never was, in the old house,[Pg 122] a Yule breakfast without it. It had come down to us from time immemorial, and was indissolubly connected with Yule morning. That is all I am able to say about it, except that I am able to give the constituents of this luscious beverage, which is not to be confounded with egg-flip. The yelks of a dozen fresh eggs are whisked for about half an hour with about a pound of sifted loaf sugar; nearly half a pint of old rum is added, and then a pint of rich, sweet cream. A bumper of this, tossed off to many happy returns of Yule day, together with a large square of shortbread, always rounded up our Yule breakfast."
An old Shetlander, reminiscing about Christmas time in Shetland in his boyhood, says: "I bet Yule—the beloved Yule I remember so well—will soon be talked about only as a tradition; because, overall, life in these islands is now very different from what it was about fifty or sixty years ago." Yule, it seems, was then celebrated on traditional Christmas Day, and a lot of preparations were made for it. Everyone had to get a new outfit for the season, and the day started with breakfast at nine—a real feast. "Before we leave the table, we have to enjoy the crowning glory of a Yule breakfast, without which we wouldn’t consider it a proper Yule breakfast at all. From the sideboard, a large china punch bowl, kept just for this occasion, is brought out and placed before our host, along with a tray featuring very old, uniquely-shaped large glasses—also reserved for the event—and a basket overflowing with rich, crisp shortbread. The bowl holds whipcol, the cherished and well-known Yule breakfast drink. I don’t know the origin or meaning of the name whipcol. I don’t think it’s listed in any dictionaries. I’m not sure if it was a Yule drink of our Viking ancestors back in the pagan days. I don’t know if there’s any truth to the legend that it was the favorite drink of the inhabitants of Valhalla—gods and heroes—when they celebrated their grand Yule festival. But what I do know is that there was never a Yule breakfast in the old house without it. It had been passed down to us for generations and was inextricably linked to Yule morning. That’s all I can say about it, except that I can share the ingredients of this delicious beverage, which should not be confused with egg-flip. The yolks of a dozen fresh eggs are whisked for about half an hour with around a pound of sifted loaf sugar; then, nearly half a pint of old rum is added, followed by a pint of rich, sweet cream. A generous glass of this, toasted to many happy Yule days, along with a large piece of shortbread, always wrapped up our Yule breakfast."
Football was the only game played at, and at this they continued till 3 p.m., when they sat down to a dinner which entirely eclipsed the breakfast. After tea, there was dancing to the music of a fiddler until eleven, when a substantial supper was partaken of, then several glasses of potent punch, before retiring to rest. For a whole week this feasting and football playing was kept up, and wonderful must have been the constitutions of the Shetlanders who could stand it.
Football was the only game they played, and they kept at it until 3 p.m., when they sat down to a dinner that completely outshone breakfast. After tea, there was dancing to a fiddler's music until eleven, when they had a hearty supper, followed by several glasses of strong punch before heading off to bed. This feasting and football continued for a whole week, and the Shetlanders who could handle it must have had amazing stamina.
In Catholic Ireland, as opposed to Presbyterian Scotland, we might expect a better observance of Christ-tide; and the best account I can find of Christmas customs in Ireland is to be met with in Notes and Queries (3rd series, viii. 495).
In Catholic Ireland, unlike in Presbyterian Scotland, we might expect a more festive celebration of Christmas; and the best description I can find of Christmas traditions in Ireland is in Notes and Queries (3rd series, viii. 495).
"Many of what are called 'the good old customs' are not now observed in the rural districts of Ireland; and I have heard ignorant old men attribute the falling off to the introduction of railways, the improvement of agricultural operations, and cattle shows! Amongst some of the customs that I remember in the south-east of Ireland were the following:
"Many of what are called 'the good old customs' are no longer observed in the rural areas of Ireland; and I've heard clueless old men blame this decline on the arrival of railways, better farming practices, and cattle shows! Some of the customs I recall from the south-east of Ireland include the following:"
"A week or two before Christmas landed proprietors would have slaughtered fine fat bullocks, the greater portion of which would be distributed to the poor; and farmers holding from ten acres of land upwards, were sure to kill a good fat pig, fed up for the purpose, for the household; but the poorer neighbours were also certain of receiving some portions as presents. When the hay was made up in the farm yards, which was generally about the time that apples became ripe, quantities of the fruit would be put in the hayricks, and left there till Christmas. The apples thus received a fine flavour, no doubt from the aroma of the new-mown hay. In localities[Pg 123] of rivers frequented by salmon, which came up with the floods of August and September, the inhabitants used to select the largest fish, pickle them in vinegar, whole ginger, and other spices, and retain them till Christmas, when they formed a most delicious dish at the breakfast table. Large trout were preserved in like manner for the same purpose. Eggs were collected in large quantities, and were preserved in corn chaff, after having been first rubbed over with butter. I have eaten eggs, so preserved, after three or four months and they tasted as fresh as if only a day old.
A week or two before Christmas, landowners would have slaughtered well-fed cattle, most of which would be given to the poor; and farmers with ten acres or more were sure to kill a well-fed pig raised for that purpose for their household, while poorer neighbors were also likely to receive some portions as gifts. When the hay was stacked in the farmyards, usually around the time apples ripened, lots of the fruit would be placed in the hayricks and left there until Christmas. The apples developed a great flavor, likely due to the scent of the fresh hay. In areas[Pg 123] by rivers where salmon were common, which came up with the August and September floods, locals used to choose the largest fish, pickle them in vinegar, whole ginger, and other spices, and keep them until Christmas, when they became a delightful dish at the breakfast table. Large trout were preserved similarly for the same reason. Eggs were gathered in large amounts and preserved in corn chaff after being rubbed with butter. I have eaten eggs preserved this way after three or four months, and they tasted as fresh as if they were just a day old.
"In districts where the farmers were well-to-do, and in hamlets and villages, young men used to go about fantastically dressed, and with fifes and drums serenade and salute the inhabitants, for which they were generally rewarded with eggs, butter, and bacon. These they would afterwards dispose of for money, and then have a 'batter,' which, as Dr. Todd, of Trinity College, Dublin, truly says, is a 'drinking bout.' These bands of itinerant minstrels were called 'Mummers.' They are not now to be met with. It was usual for people to send presents to each other, which consisted chiefly of spirits (potheen, home-made whisky), beer, fine flour, geese, turkeys, and hares. A beverage called 'Mead,' which was extracted from honeycomb, was also a favourite liquor, and when mixed with a little alcoholic spirit, was an agreeable drink, but deceitful and seductive, as well as intoxicating. This used to pass in large quantities amongst neighbours. 'Christmas cakes' and puddings were extensively made and sent as presents. The latter were particularly fine, and made with fine flour, eggs, butter, fruit, and spices. I have never met anything in cities and large towns to equal them in their way, both as regards wholesomeness and flavour.
"In areas where farmers were well-off, and in small towns and villages, young men would dress up in fancy costumes and play fife and drum to serenade the locals, usually earning rewards like eggs, butter, and bacon. They would later sell these for cash and enjoy a 'batter,' which, as Dr. Todd from Trinity College Dublin accurately describes, is a 'drinking bout.' These groups of traveling performers were known as 'Mummers,' but you don’t see them anymore. It was common for people to send gifts to one another, mainly consisting of spirits (like potheen, homemade whiskey), beer, fine flour, geese, turkeys, and hares. A drink called 'Mead,' made from honeycomb, was also very popular, and when mixed with a bit of alcohol, it was a pleasing beverage, though it could be deceptive, alluring, and intoxicating. This was commonly shared among neighbors. 'Christmas cakes' and puddings were widely made and exchanged as gifts. The puddings were especially delicious, made with fine flour, eggs, butter, fruit, and spices. I’ve never encountered anything in cities or large towns that could match them in taste and quality."
"Of course, the houses were all decorated with holly and ivy, winter natural flowers, and other emblems of joy. People hardly went to bed at all on Christmas eve, and the first who announced the crowing of the Cock, if a male, was rewarded with a cup of tea, in which was mixed a glass of spirits; if a female, the tea only; but, as a substitute for the whisky, she was saluted with half a dozen kisses, which was the greatest compliment that could be paid her. The Christ[Pg 124]mas block for the fire, or Yule log, was indispensable. The last place in which I saw it was the hall of Lord Ward's mansion, near Downpatrick, in Ireland; and although it was early in the forenoon, his lordship (then a young man) insisted on my tasting a glass of whisky, not to break the custom of the country, or the hall. He did the same himself."
"Of course, the houses were all decorated with holly and ivy, winter flowers, and other symbols of joy. People barely slept at all on Christmas Eve, and the first person to announce the crowing of the rooster, if a man, was rewarded with a cup of tea mixed with a shot of spirits; if a woman, she got tea only; but as a substitute for the whisky, she received half a dozen kisses, which was the highest compliment that could be given. The Christmas log for the fire, or Yule log, was essential. The last place I saw it was in the hall of Lord Ward's mansion near Downpatrick, in Ireland; and even though it was early in the morning, his lordship (who was a young man then) insisted that I taste a glass of whisky to maintain the custom of the country and the hall. He did the same himself."
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CHAPTER 17 Ordinance against out-door Revelry—Marriage of a Lord of Misrule—Mummers and Mumming—Country Mummers—Early Play—Two modern Plays. |
These Christmas revelries were sometimes carried to excess, and needed curbing with the strong hand of the law, an early instance of which we find in Letter Book I. of the Corporation of the City of London, fol. 223, 6 Henry V., a.d. 1418.
These Christmas celebrations sometimes got out of control and required strict law enforcement to rein them in, an early example of which we find in Letter Book I. of the Corporation of the City of London, fol. 223, 6 Henry V., A.D. 1418.
"The Mair and Aldermen chargen on þe kynges byhalf, and þis Cite, þat no manere persone, of what astate, degre, or condicoun þat euere he be, duryng þis holy tyme of Christemes be so hardy in eny wyse to walk by nyght in eny manere mommyng, pleyes, enterludes, or eny oþer disgisynges with eny feynyd berdis,[65] peyntid visers, diffourmyd or colourid visages in eny wyse, up peyne of enprisonement of her bodyes and makyng fyne after þe discrecioun of þe Mair and Aldremen; ontake[66] þat hit be leful to eche persone for to be honestly mery as he can, within his owne hous dwellyng. And more ouere þei charge on þe Kynges byhalf, and þe Cite, þat eche honest persone, dwellyng in eny hye strete or lane of þis Citee, hang out of her house eche night, duryng þis solempne Feste, a lanterne with a candell þer in, to brenne[67] as long as hit may endure, up[68] peyne to pay ivd, to þe chaumbre at eche tyme þat hit faillith."
"The Mayor and Aldermen, on behalf of the king and this City, charge that no person, regardless of status, rank, or condition, during this holy time of Christmas, should be bold enough in any way to walk at night in any kind of mumming, plays, interludes, or any other disguises with fake beards, painted faces, deformed or colored appearances in any way, under penalty of imprisonment and fines as determined by the Mayor and Aldermen; except that it is allowable for each person to celebrate happily as best as they can, within their own home. Furthermore, they charge on behalf of the King and the City that every honest person living on any main street or lane of this City should hang a lantern with a candle inside from their house every night during this solemn Festival, to burn as long as it can, under penalty to pay a fine to the chamber each time it goes out."
And to cite another case, much later in date, the Commissioners for Causes Ecclesiastical kept strict watch on some of the Christmas revellers of 1637. They had before them one Saunders, from Lincolnshire, for carrying revelry too far. Saunders and others, at Blatherwick, had appointed a Lord[Pg 126] of Misrule over their festivities. This was perfectly lawful, and could not be gainsaid. But they had resolved that he should have a lady, or Christmas wife; and probably there would have been no harm in that, if they had not carried the matter too far. They, however, brought in as bride one Elizabeth Pitto, daughter of the hog-herd of the town. Saunders received her, disguised as a parson, wearing a shirt or smock for a surplice. He then married the Lord of Misrule to the hog-herd's daughter, reading the whole of the marriage service from the Book of Common Prayer. All the after ceremonies and customs then in use were observed, and the affair was carried to its utmost extent. The parties had time to repent at leisure in prison.
And to mention another case, much later in time, the Commissioners for Ecclesiastical Causes kept a close eye on some Christmas revelers in 1637. They were dealing with a guy named Saunders from Lincolnshire for taking the festivities too far. Saunders and others in Blatherwick appointed a Lord[Pg 126] of Misrule for their celebrations. This was perfectly legal and couldn't be argued against. But they decided he should have a lady, or Christmas wife; and there probably wouldn't have been any issue with that if they hadn't gone too far. However, they brought in a bride, Elizabeth Pitto, the daughter of the town's hog-keeper. Saunders dressed up as a priest, wearing a shirt or smock instead of a surplice. He then married the Lord of Misrule to the hog-keeper's daughter, reading the entire marriage service from the Book of Common Prayer. All the customs and ceremonies at that time were observed, and the event went to its fullest extent. The parties had plenty of time to regret it while in prison.
The old English disport of mumming at Christmas is of great antiquity—so great that its origin is lost. Fosbroke, in his Encyclopædia of Antiquities (ed. 1843, ii. 668), says, under the heading "Mummers: These were amusements derived from the Saturnalia, and so called from the Danish mumme, or Dutch momme—disguise in a mask. Christmas was the grand scene of mumming, and some mummers were disguised as bears, others like unicorns, bringing presents. Those who could not procure masks rubbed their faces with soot, or painted them. In the Christmas mummings the chief aim was to surprise by the oddity of the masks, and singularity and splendour of the dresses. Everything was out of nature and propriety. They were often attended with an exhibition of gorgeous machinery.[69] It was an old custom also to have mummeries on Twelfth night. They were the common holiday amusements of young people of both sexes; but by 6 Edward III. the mummers, or masqueraders, were ordered to be whipped out of London."
The old English tradition of mumming at Christmas is very ancient—so much so that its origins are unclear. Fosbroke, in his Encyclopædia of Antiquities (ed. 1843, ii. 668), states under the heading "Mummers": "These were entertainments that came from the Saturnalia and were named after the Danish word mumme or Dutch momme—meaning disguise in a mask. Christmas was the main occasion for mumming, and some mummers dressed as bears, while others looked like unicorns, bringing gifts. Those who couldn't find masks would smear their faces with soot or paint them. The main goal of the Christmas mummings was to surprise people with the strange masks and the uniqueness and beauty of the costumes. Everything was unnatural and out of place. They often included impressive mechanical displays.[69] It was also a traditional practice to have mummeries on Twelfth Night. These were popular holiday entertainments for young people of both genders; however, by the year 6 of Edward III, mummers, or masqueraders, were ordered to be chased out of London."
The original mumming was in dumb show, and was sometimes of considerable proportions, vide one in 1348, where there were "eighty tunics of buckram, forty-two visors, and a great variety of other whimsical dresses were provided for the disguising at court at the Feast of Christmas." A most magnificent mummery or disguising was exhibited by the citizens of London in 1377, for the[Pg 127] amusement of Richard, Prince of Wales, in which no fewer than 130 persons were disguised; which, with that in 1401, I have already described. Philip Stubbes, the Puritan, says: "In 1440, one captain John Gladman, a man ever true and faithful to God and the King, and constantly sportive, made public disport with his neighbours at Christmas. He traversed the town on a horse as gaily caparisoned as himself, preceded by the twelve months, each dressed in character. After him crept the pale attenuated figure of Lent, clothed in herring skins, and mounted on a sorry horse, whose harness was covered with oyster shells. A train, fantastically garbed, followed. Some were clothed as bears, apes, and wolves; others were tricked out in armour; a number appeared as harridans, with blackened faces and tattered clothes, and all kept up a promiscuous fight. Last of all marched several carts, whereon a number of fellows, dressed as old fools, sat upon nests, and pretended to hatch young fools."
The original mumming was performed in silent show and could be quite elaborate. For example, in 1348, there were "eighty tunics made of buckram, forty-two masks, and a wide variety of other whimsical costumes prepared for disguises at court during the Christmas Feast." A spectacular mummery or disguise was put on by the citizens of London in 1377 for the entertainment of Richard, Prince of Wales, featuring no fewer than 130 people in disguise; I've already described that one along with another from 1401. Philip Stubbes, the Puritan, mentions: "In 1440, a man named John Gladman, who was always true and loyal to God and the King, and who loved to have fun, entertained his neighbors at Christmas. He rode through town on a horse just as brightly adorned as he was, followed by the twelve months of the year, each dressed accordingly. Behind him trailed the pale, thin figure of Lent, dressed in herring skins and riding a sad excuse for a horse, whose harness was covered in oyster shells. A fantastically dressed group followed; some were in bear, ape, and wolf costumes, others donned armor, while several appeared as ragged women, their faces blackened and clothes tattered, all engaging in chaotic fighting. Lastly, several carts came along, where a bunch of guys dressed as old fools sat on nests, pretending to hatch young fools."
We still have our mummers in very many a country village; but the sport is now confined to the village boys, who, either masked or with painted faces, ribbons, and other finery (I have known them tricked out with paper streamers, obtained from a neighbouring paper mill), act a play(!), and, of course, ask for money at its conclusion. By some, it is considered that this play originated in the commemoration of the doughty deeds of the Crusaders.
We still have our mummers in a lot of rural villages, but now the activity is mostly limited to the village boys who, either masked or with painted faces, ribbons, and other decorations (I’ve seen them dressed up with paper streamers from a nearby paper mill), perform a play(!) and, of course, ask for money at the end. Some people believe that this play started as a way to celebrate the brave actions of the Crusaders.
The earliest of these plays that I can find is in a fifteenth century MS.—temp. Edward IV.—and the characters are the nine worthies:
The earliest of these plays that I can find is in a fifteenth-century manuscript—temp. Edward IV.—and the characters are the nine worthies:
Ector de Troye. |
Thow Achylles in bataly me slow, Of my worthynes men speken I now. |
Alisander. |
And in romaunce often am I leyt, As conqueror gret thow I seyt. |
Julius Cæsar. |
Thow my cenatoures me slow in cōllory, Fele londes byfore by conquest wan I. |
Josue. |
In holy Chyrche You mowen here and rede, Of my worthynes and of my dede. |
Dauit. |
After yt slayn was Golyas, By me the sawter than made was. |
Judas Macabeus. |
Of my wurthynesse Ȝyf You wyll wete, Secke the byble, for ther it is wrete.[Pg 128] |
Arthour. |
The round tabyll I sette wt Knyghtes strong, Zyt shall I come aȜen, thow it be long. |
Charles. |
With me dwellyd Rouland Olyvere, In all my conquest fer and nere. |
Godefry de Boleyn. |
And I was Kyng of Jherusalem, The crowne of thorn I wan fro hem. |
Of the comparatively modern play acted by the mummers space only enables me to give two examples, although I could give many more. The first is the simplest, and only requires three principal actors, and this is still played in Oxfordshire.[70]
Of the relatively modern play performed by the mummers, space only allows me to provide two examples, although I could offer many more. The first is the simplest and only needs three main actors, and it's still performed in Oxfordshire.[70]
A Knight enters with his sword drawn, and says:
A knight enters with his sword drawn and says:
Room, room, make room, brave gallants all, For me and my brave company! Where's the man that dares bid me stand? I'll cut him down with my bold hand! |
|
St. George. |
Here's the man that dares bid you stand; He defies your courageous hand! |
The Knight. | Then mind your eye, to guard the blow, And shield your face, and heart also. |
(St. George gets wounded in the combat, and falls.)
(St. George gets injured in the fight and falls.)
Doctor, Doctor, come here and take a look, St. George is injured in the knee; Doctor, Doctor, play your role well. St. George is hurt in the heart! |
(The Doctor enters.)
(The Doctor arrives.)
I am a Doctor, and a Doctor good, And with my hand I'll stop the blood. |
|
The Knight. | What can you cure, Doctor? |
The Doctor. | I can cure coughs, colds, fevers, gout, Both pains within and aches without; I will bleed him in the thumb. |
St. George. | O! will you so? then I'll get up and run! |
Some more Mummers or Minstrels come in, and they sing the following stanza, accompanied by the Hurdy Gourdy:—
Some more performers or musicians come in, and they sing the following line, accompanied by the Hurdy Gurdy:—
My father, he killed a fine fat hog, And you can see clearly; My mother gave me the guts of the hog, To make a hurdy-gurdy. |
Then they repeat the song in full chorus, and dance.
Then they sing the song together fully and dance.
The other example is far more elaborate, and was read by J.S. Udal, Esquire, in a paper on Christmas Mummers in Dorsetshire before the Folk-lore Society, 13th April 1880. He said: "I will now proceed to give the entire rendering of the first version as it was obtained for me, some few years ago, by an old Dorsetshire lady, who is now dead, and in this the dramatis personæ are as follow:—
The other example is much more detailed and was presented by J.S. Udal, Esquire, in a paper on Christmas Mummers in Dorsetshire before the Folk-lore Society on April 13, 1880. He stated: "I will now proceed to provide the full version as it was given to me a few years ago by an elderly lady from Dorsetshire, who has since passed away, and in this, the dramatis personæ are as follows:—
"Santa Claus. Space. Anthony, the Egyptian King. Saint George. |
St. Paddy. Captain Showoff. Kind King. General Valentine. |
Colonel Spring. Betty. Doctor. Servant." |
Enter Old Father Christmas.
Enter Santa Claus.
Here comes I, Father Christmas, welcome, or welcome not,
I hope Old Father Christmas will never be forgot.
Although it is Old Father Christmas, he has but a short time to stay
I am come to show you pleasure, and pass the time away.
I have been far, I have been near,
And now, I am come to drink a pot of your Christmas beer;
And, if it is your best,
I hope, in heaven your soul will rest.
If it is a pot of your small,
We cannot show you no Christmas at all.
Walk in, Room, again I say,
And, pray, good people, clear the way.
Walk in, Room.
Here I am, Father Christmas, welcome, or not,
I hope Old Father Christmas won't be forgotten.
Though it’s Old Father Christmas, he has only a short time to stay
I’m here to bring you joy and pass the time away.
I’ve traveled far and near,
And now, I’ve come to enjoy a glass of your Christmas beer;
And if it’s your best,
I hope your soul finds peace in heaven’s rest.
If it’s just a small one,
We can’t show you any Christmas fun at all.
Come on in, everyone, I say again,
And please, good people, clear the way.
Come on in, everyone.
Enter Room.
Enter Room.
God bless you all, Ladies and Gentlemen,
It's Christmas time, and I am come again.
My name is Room, one sincere and true,
A merry Christmas I wish to you.
King of Egypt is for to display,
A noble champion without delay.[Pg 130]
St. Patrick too, a charming Irish youth,
He can fight, or dance, or love a girl with truth.
A noble Doctor, I do declare, and his surprising tricks, bring up the rear.
And let the Egyptian King straightway appear.
God bless you all, Ladies and Gentlemen,
It's Christmas time, and I'm back again.
My name is Room, sincere and true,
I wish you all a merry Christmas too.
The King of Egypt is here to show,
A noble champion, ready to go.[Pg 130]
St. Patrick too, a charming Irish guy,
He can fight, dance, or love a girl with sincerity.
A noble Doctor, I must say, with his amazing tricks, follows right away.
And let the Egyptian King appear without delay.
Enter Egyptian King.
Enter Egyptian King.
Here comes I, Anthony, the Egyptian King.
With whose mighty acts, all round the globe doth ring;
No other champion but me excels,
Except St. George, my only son-in-law.
Indeed, that wondrous Knight, whom I so dearly love,
Whose mortal deeds the world dost well approve,
The hero whom no dragon could affright,
A whole troop of soldiers couldn't stand in sight.
Walk in, St. George, his warlike ardour to display,
And show Great Britain's enemies dismay.
Walk in, St. George.
Here I am, Anthony, the King of Egypt.
Whose powerful deeds echo around the world;
No other champion surpasses me,
Except for St. George, my only son-in-law.
Indeed, that amazing Knight, whom I love dearly,
Whose brave actions are well recognized worldwide,
The hero that no dragon could scare away,
A whole army couldn't stand against him.
Come in, St. George, to show off your fighting spirit,
And make Great Britain's enemies tremble.
Come in, St. George.
Enter St. George.
Enter St. George.
Here am I, St. George, an Englishman so stout,
With those mighty warriors I long to have a bout;
No one could ever picture me the many I have slain,
I long to fight, it's my delight, the battle o'er again.
Come then, you boasting champions,
And here, that in war I doth take pleasure,
I will fight you all, both great and small,
And slay you at my leisure.
Come, haste, away, make no delay,
For I'll give you something you won't like,
And, like a true-born Englishman,
I will fight you on my stumps.
And, now, the world I do defy,
To injure me before I die.
So, now, prepare for war, for that is my delight.
Here I am, St. George, a proud Englishman,
With those mighty warriors, I can't wait to take them on;
No one could ever imagine the many I've defeated,
I crave the thrill of battle, my joy can't be completed.
Come on, you arrogant champions,
And know that I take pleasure in this strife,
I'll fight you all, both big and small,
And take you down whenever I like.
Come on, hurry, don't waste time,
Because I'll give you a challenge you won't enjoy,
And, like a true-born Englishman,
I'll face you without holding back.
Now, I challenge the world,
To try and harm me before my time is up.
So, get ready for war, because that's what I love.
Enter St. Patrick, who shakes hands with St. George.
Enter St. Paddy, who shakes hands with Saint George.
My worthy friend, how dost thou fare, St. George?
Answer, my worthy Knight.
My dear friend, how are you doing, St. George?
Answer me, my honorable Knight.
St. George.
St. George.
I am glad to find thee here;
In many a fight that I have been in, travelled far and near,
[Pg 131]To find my worthy friend St. Patrick, that man I love so dear.
Four bold warriors have promised me
To meet me here this night to fight.
The challenge did I accept, but they could not me affright.
I’m happy to see you here;
In many battles I've fought, traveling both far and near,
[Pg 131]To find my good friend St. Patrick, the man I hold so dear.
Four brave warriors have promised me
They would meet me here tonight to fight.
I accepted the challenge, but they couldn’t scare me off.
St. Patrick.
St. Patrick.
I will always stand by that man that did me first enlarge,
I thank thee now, in gratitude, my worthy friend, St. Geärge;
Thou did'st first deliver me out of this wretched den,
And now I have my liberty, I thank thee once again.
I will always support the man who first helped me,
I thank you now, in appreciation, my good friend, St. Geärge;
You were the one who first freed me from this miserable place,
And now that I have my freedom, I thank you once more.
Enter Captain Bluster.
Enter Captain Bluster.
I'll give St. George a thrashing, I'll make him sick and sore,
And, if I further am disposed, I'll thrash a dozen more.
I'll give St. George a beating, I'll make him hurt and sore,
And, if I feel like it, I'll take on a dozen more.
St. Patrick.
St. Patrick.
Large words, my worthy friend,
St. George is here,
And likewise St. Patrick too;
And he doth scorn such men as you.
I am the man for thee,
Therefore, prepare yourself to fight with me;
Or, else, I'll slay thee instantly.
Big words, my good friend,
St. George is here,
And so is St. Patrick;
And he looks down on guys like you.
I'm the one for you,
So get ready to fight me;
Otherwise, I'll take you out right away.
Captain Bluster.
Captain Bluster.
Come on, my boy! I'll die before
I yield to thee, or twenty more.
Come on, my boy! I’d rather die
than give in to you, or to twenty others.
(They fight, and St. Patrick kills Captain Bluster.)
(They fight, and St. Patrick kills Captain Bluster.)
St. Patrick.
St. Patrick
Now one of St. George's foes is killed by me,
Who fought the battle o'er,
And, now, for the sake of good St. George,
I'll freely fight a hundred more.
Now one of St. George's enemies is killed by me,
Who fought the battle before,
And, now, for the sake of good St. George,
I'll gladly fight a hundred more.
St. George.
St. George.
No, no, my worthy friend,
St. George is here,
I'll fight the other three;
And, after that, with Christmas beer,
So merry we will be.
[Pg 132]
No, no, my good friend,
St. George is here,
I'll take on the other three;
And after that, with Christmas beer,
We'll be so merry.
[Pg 132]
Enter Gracious King.
Enter Kind King.
No beer, or brandy, Sir, I want, my courage for to rise,
I only want to meet St. George, or take him by surprise;
But I am afraid he never will fight me,
I wish I could that villain see.
No beer or brandy, Sir, I want, to boost my courage,
I just want to meet St. George or catch him off guard;
But I'm afraid he’ll never fight me,
I wish I could see that villain.
St. George.
St. George
Tremble, thou tyrant, for all thy sin that's past,
Tremble to think that this night will be thy last.
Thy conquering arms shall quickly by thee lay alone
And send thee, passing, to eternal doom.
St. George will make thy armour ring;
St. George will soon despatch the Gracious King.
Tremble, you tyrant, for all your past sins,
Tremble at the thought that tonight will be your last.
Your conquering arms will soon be laid to rest,
And send you off to eternal doom.
St. George will make your armor ring;
St. George will soon send the Gracious King away.
Gracious King.
Kind King.
I'll die before I yield to thee, or twenty more.
I'll die before I give in to you, or twenty others.
(They fight, St. George kills the Gracious King.)
(They battle, St. George slays the Gracious King.)
St. George.
St. George.
He was no match for me, he quickly fell.
He couldn't keep up with me; he fell fast.
Enter General Valentine.
Enter General Valentine.
But I am thy match, and that my sword shall tell,
Prepare thyself to die, and bid thy friends farewell.
I long to fight such a brave man as thee,
For it's a pleasure to fight so manfully
(a line missing.)
Rations so severe he never so long to receive.
So cruel! for thy foes are always killed;
Oh! what a sight of blood St. George has spilled!
I'll fight St. George the hero here,
Before I sleep this night.
Come on, my boy, I'll die before
I yield to thee, or twenty more.
St. George, thou and I'll the battle try,
If thou dost conquer I will die.
But I'm your match, and my sword will prove it,
Get ready to die and say goodbye to your friends.
I can't wait to fight such a brave person like you,
Because it’s a thrill to battle so fiercely.
(a line missing.)
He never had to endure such harsh conditions for so long.
How cruel! Because your enemies always get killed;
Oh! What a sight of blood St. George has shed!
I'll fight St. George the hero right here,
Before I go to sleep tonight.
Bring it on, my friend, I’ll die first
Before I surrender to you, or anyone else.
St. George, you and I will face off,
If you win, then I will die.
(They fight, St. George kills the General.)
(They fight, St. George kills the General.)
St. George.
St. George.
Where now is Colonel Spring? he doth so long delay,
That hero of renown, I long to show him play.
[Pg 133]
Where is Colonel Spring now? He's taking so long,
That famous hero, I can't wait to see him perform.
[Pg 133]
Enter Colonel Spring.
Enter Colonel Spring.
Holloa! behold me, here am I!
I'll have thee now prepare,
And by this arm thou'lt surely die,
I'll have thee this night, beware.
So, see, what bloody works thou'st made,
Thou art a butcher, sir, by trade.
I'll kill, as thou did'st kill my brother,
For one good turn deserves another.
Hey! Look at me, here I am!
I want you to get ready,
And by this arm, you’ll definitely die,
I’ll have you tonight, so be careful.
See what bloody deeds you’ve done,
You’re a butcher, sir, by trade.
I’ll kill you, just like you killed my brother,
Because one good turn deserves another.
(They fight, St. George kills the Colonel.)
(They fight, St. George kills the Colonel.)
St. Patrick.
St. Patrick
Stay thy hand, St. George, and slay no more; for I feel for the wives and families of those men thou hast slain.
Stay your hand, St. George, and don't kill anymore; because I have compassion for the wives and families of those men you've killed.
St. George.
St. George
So am I sorry. I'll freely give any sum of money to a doctor to restore them again. I have heard talk of a mill to grind old men young, but I never heard of a doctor to bring dead men to life again.
So, I truly regret it. I’d gladly pay any amount to a doctor to bring them back. I’ve heard rumors about a way to make old men young, but I’ve never heard of a doctor who can bring the dead back to life.
St. Patrick.
St. Patrick.
There's an Irish doctor, a townsman of mine, who lived next door to St. Patrick, he can perform wonders. Shall I call him, St. George?
There's an Irish doctor, a neighbor of mine, who lived next to St. Patrick; he can work miracles. Should I call him, St. George?
St. George.
St. George.
With all my heart. Please to walk in, Mr. Martin Dennis. It's an ill wind that blows no good work for the doctor. If you will set these men on
With all my heart. Please come in, Mr. Martin Dennis. It's a bad situation that doesn’t bring any good work for the doctor. If you could get these guys to
Enter Doctor.
Enter Doc.
their pins, I'll give thee a hundred pound, and here is the money.
their pins, I'll give you a hundred pounds, and here is the money.
Doctor.
Doctor.
So I will, my worthy knight, and then I shall not want for whiskey for one twelvemonth to come. I am sure, the first man I saw beheaded, I put his head on the wrong way. I put his mouth where his poll ought to be, and he's exhibited in a wondering nature.
So I will, my worthy knight, and then I won’t be short of whiskey for a whole year. I'm sure that when I first saw someone beheaded, I put his head on the wrong way. I positioned his mouth where the back of his head should be, and now he’s displayed in a perplexing manner.
St. George.
St. George.
Very good answer, Doctor. Tell me the rest of your miracles, and raise those warriors.[Pg 134]
Very good answer, Doctor. Share the rest of your miracles, and bring those warriors back.[Pg 134]
Doctor.
Doctor.
I can cure love-sick maidens, jealous husbands, squalling wives, brandy-drinking dames, with one touch of my triple liquid, or one sly dose of my Jerusalem balsam, and that will make an old crippled dame dance the hornpipe, or an old woman of seventy years of age conceive and bear a twin. And now to convince you all of my exertions,—Rise, Captain Bluster, Gracious King, General Valentine, and Colonel Spring! Rise, and go to your father!
I can heal lovesick girls, jealous husbands, noisy wives, and brandy-drinking ladies with just one touch of my special potion or a clever dose of my Jerusalem balsam. That will make an old, crippled woman dance a jig or even allow a seventy-year-old woman to conceive and give birth to twins. Now, to prove my skills to all of you—Get up, Captain Bluster, Gracious King, General Valentine, and Colonel Spring! Get up and go to your father!
(On the application of the medicine they all rise and retire.)
(When the medicine is applied, they all get up and leave.)
Enter Old Bet.
Join Old Bet.
Here comes dame Dorothy,
A handsome young woman, good morning to ye.
I am rather fat, but not very tall,
I'll do my best endeavour to please you all.
My husband, he is to work, and soon he will return,
And something for our supper bring,
And, perhaps, some wood to burn.
Oh! here he comes!
Here comes Mrs. Dorothy,
A lovely young woman, good morning to you.
I’m a bit overweight, but not very tall,
I’ll do my best to please you all.
My husband is at work and will be back soon,
And he’ll bring something for our dinner,
And maybe some wood to burn.
Oh! Here he comes!
Enter Jan, or Old Father Christmas.
Enter Jan, or Santa Claus.
Well! Jan.
Alright! Jan.
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
Oh! Dorothy.
Oh! Dorothy.
Old Bet.
Classic Bet.
What have you been doing all this long day, Jan?
What have you been up to all day, Jan?
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
I have been a-hunting, Bet.
I've been hunting, Bet.
Old Bet.
Vintage Bet.
The devil! a-hunting is it? Is that the way to support a wife? Well, what have you catched to-day, Jan?
The devil! Out hunting, are you? Is that how you support a wife? So, what have you caught today, Jan?
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
A fine jack hare, and I intend to have him a-fried for supper; and here is some wood to dress him.
A nice jack hare, and I plan to fry him up for dinner; and here's some wood to prepare him.
Old Bet.
Vintage Bet.
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
I say, I'll have it fried.
I say, I'll get it fried.
Old Bet.
Vintage Bet.
Was there ever such a foolish dish!
Was there ever such a silly meal!
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
No matter for that. I'll have it a-done; and if you don't do as I do bid,
I'll hit you in the head.
No worries about that. I'll get it done, and if you don't do what I say,
I'll hit you in the head.
Old Bet.
Vintage Wager.
You may do as you like for all I do care,
I'll never fry a dry jack hare.
You can do whatever you want, I really don’t care,
I'll never cook a dry hare.
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
Oh! you won't, wooll'ee?
Oh! you won't, will you?
(He strikes her and she falls.)
(He hits her and she falls.)
Oh! what have I done! I have murdered my wife!
The joy of my heart, and the pride of my life.
And out to the gaol I quickly shall be sent.
In a passion I did it, and no malice meant.
Is there a doctor that can restore?
Fifty pounds I'll give him, or twice fifty more.
Oh! What have I done! I've killed my wife!
The joy of my heart and the pride of my life.
And soon I'll be sent to jail.
I did it in a rage, with no intent to harm.
Is there a doctor who can bring her back?
I'll give him fifty pounds, or even a hundred more.
(Some one speaks.)
(Someone speaks.)
Oh! yes, Uncle Jan, there is a doctor just below, and for God's sake let him just come in. Walk in, Doctor.
Oh! yes, Uncle Jan, there’s a doctor right downstairs, and for God's sake, just let him come in. Come in, Doctor.
Enter Doctor.
Come in Doctor.
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
Are you a doctor?
Are you a physician?
Doctor.
Doc.
Yes, I am a doctor—a doctor of good fame. I have travelled through Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, and by long practice and experience I have learned the best of cures for most disorders instant (incident?) to the human body; find nothing difficult in restoring a limb, or mortification, or an arm being cut off by a sword, or a head being struck off by a cannon-ball, if application have not been delayed till it is too late.
Yes, I’m a doctor—a well-respected one. I’ve traveled through Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, and through extensive practice and experience, I’ve discovered the best treatments for most ailments related to the human body. I find it easy to restore a limb, deal with gangrene, or manage an arm severed by a sword, or a head blown off by a cannonball, as long as treatment isn’t delayed until it’s too late.
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
You are the very man, I plainly see,
That can restore my poor old wife to me.
Pray tell me thy lowest fee.
[Pg 136]
You’re the one I can clearly see,
Who can bring my poor old wife back to me.
Please tell me your lowest fee.
[Pg 136]
Doctor.
Doctor.
A hundred guineas, I'll have to restore thy wife,
'Tis no wonder that you could not bring the dead to life.
A hundred guineas, I'll need to bring your wife back,
It's no surprise that you couldn't bring the dead to life.
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
That's a large sum of money for a dead wife!
That's a huge amount of money for a deceased wife!
Doctor.
Doctor.
Small sum of money to save a man from the gallows. Pray what big stick is that you have in your hand?
Small amount of money to save a man from the gallows. What big stick do you have in your hand?
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus
That is my hunting pole.
That's my fishing rod.
Doctor.
Doctor.
Put aside your hunting pole, and get some assistance to help up your wife.
Put down your fishing rod and get some help to lift your wife up.
(Old Bet is raised up to life again.)
(Old Bet makes a comeback.)
Fal, dal, lal! fal, dal, lal! my wife's alive!
Fal, dal, lal! fal, dal, lal! my wife's alive!
Enter Servant Man who sings.
Enter Servant Man who is singing.
Well met, my brother dear!
All on the highway
Sall and I were walking along,
So I pray, come tell to me
What calling you might be.
I'll have you for some serving man.
Well met, my dear brother!
Sall and I were walking along the highway,
So please, come tell me
What your job might be.
I'll have you as my servant.
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
I'll give thee many thanks,
And I'll quit thee as soon as I can;
Vain did I know
Where thee could do so or no,
For to the pleasure of a servant man.
I'll give you many thanks,
And I'll let you go as soon as I can;
I didn't know
If you could do that or not,
For the sake of a servant's joy.
Servant Man.
Servant Man.
Some servants of pleasure
Will pass time out of measure,
With our hares and hounds
They will make the hills and valleys sound
That's a pleasure for some servant man.
[Pg 137]
Some pleasure-seekers
Will spend time without limit,
With our hares and hounds
They’ll make the hills and valleys echo
That’s a thrill for some servant guy.
[Pg 137]
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus
My pleasure is more than for to see my oxen grow fat,
And see them prove well in their kind,
A good rick of hay, and a good stack of corn to fill up my barn,
That's a pleasure of a good honest husband man.
My joy comes not just from watching my oxen get healthy,
And seeing them thrive in their way,
A nice pile of hay, and a good stack of corn to fill my barn,
That's the joy of a truly hardworking farmer.
Servant Man.
Servant Man.
Next to church they will go with their livery fine and gay,
With their cocked-up hat, and gold lace all round,
And their shirt so white as milk,
And stitched so fine as silk,
That's a habit for a servant man.
Next to the church, they'll stroll in their smart and colorful uniforms,
With their fancy hats and gold trim all around,
And their shirts as white as milk,
And sewn so finely like silk,
That's the outfit for a servant.
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
Don't tell I about thee silks and garments that's not fit to travel the bushes.
Let I have on my old leather coat,
And in my purse a groat,
And there, that's a habit for a good old husband man.
Don't tell me about those silks and clothes that aren't suitable for wandering in the woods.
Let me wear my old leather coat,
And have a coin in my pocket,
And there, that's the style for a good old husband.
Servant Man.
Servant Man.
Some servant men doth eat
The very best of meat,
A cock, goose, capon, and swan;
After lords and ladies dine,
We'll drink strong beer, ale, and wine;
That's a diet for some servant man.
Some servant men do eat
The very best of food,
A rooster, goose, chicken, and swan;
After lords and ladies finish eating,
We'll drink strong beer, ale, and wine;
That's a meal for some servant man.
Old Father Christmas.
Santa Claus.
Don't tell I of the cock, goose, or capon, nor swan; let I have a good rusty piece of bacon, pickled pork, in the house, and a hard crust of bread and cheese once now and then; that's a diet for a good old honest husband man.
Don't tell me about the rooster, goose, or capon, or swan; just let me have some good old salty bacon, pickled pork in the house, and a hard crust of bread and cheese every now and then; that's a diet for a good old honest farmer.
So we needs must confess
That your calling is the best,
And we will give you the uppermost hand;
So no more we won't delay,
But we will pray both night and day,
God bless the honest husband man. Amen.
So we have to admit
That your role is the best,
And we will give you the highest praise;
So we won’t hold back any longer,
But we will pray both night and day,
God bless the honest farmer. Amen.
[Exeunt Omnes.]
[Everyone leaves Omnes.]
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CHAPTER 18 A Christmas jest—Ben Jonson's Masque of Christmas—Milton's Masque of Comus—Queen Elizabeth and the Masters of Defence. |
This is rather sorry stuff; but then in purely rural places, untouched by that great civiliser, the railroad, a little wit goes a great way, as we may see by the following story told in Pasquil's "Jests," 1604. "There was some time an old knight, who, being disposed to make himself merry on a Christmas time, sent for many of his tenants and poore neighbours, with their wives to dinner; when, having made meat to be set on the table, he would suffer no man to drinke till he that was master over his wife should sing a carrol; great niceness there was who should be the musician. Yet with much adoe, looking one upon another, after a dry hemme or two, a dreaming companion drew out as much as he durst towards an ill-fashioned ditty. When, having made an end, to the great comfort of the beholders, at last it came to the women's table, when, likewise, commandment was given that there should no drinkes be touched till she that was master over her husband had sung a Christmas carroll, whereupon they fell all to such a singing that there never was heard such a catterwauling piece of musicke. Whereat the knight laughed so heartily that it did him halfe as much good as a corner of his Christmas pie."
This is pretty sad stuff; but in completely rural areas, untouched by the great civilizer, the railroad, a little humor goes a long way, as we can see from the following story told in Pasquil's "Jests," 1604. "Once there was an old knight who, wanting to have a good time during Christmas, invited many of his tenants and poor neighbors, along with their wives, to dinner. Once the food was laid out on the table, he insisted that no one could drink until the one who was the master of his wife sang a carol; there was much fuss over who would be the musician. After some awkward glances and a few dry coughs, a brave soul finally stepped up and attempted a poorly sung ditty. When he finished, much to everyone’s amusement, it came time for the women to sing, and likewise, it was commanded that no drinks could be touched until the one who was the master of her husband sang a Christmas carol. They all began singing, creating a cacophony that was like no music ever heard. The knight laughed so hard that it did him almost as much good as a piece of his Christmas pie."
Of Masques I have already written, in describing Royal Christ-tides, but there is one, a notice of which must not be omitted, Ben Jonson's Masque of Christmas, as it was presented at Court 1616. The dramatis personæ are:[Pg 139]—
Of masks, I've already written about Royal Christmas celebrations, but there's one that shouldn’t be overlooked: Ben Jonson's Masque of Christmas, as it was performed at Court in 1616. The dramatis personæ are:[Pg 139]—
Christmas, attired in round hose, long stockings, a closed doublet, a high-crowned hat, with a brooch, a long thin beard, a truncheon, little ruffs, white shoes, his scarfs and garters tied cross, and his drum beaten before him.
Holidays, dressed in baggy pants, long socks, a fitted jacket, a tall hat with a pin, a thin beard, a staff, small frills, white shoes, his scarves and garters crossed, and his drum playing in front of him.
His Sons and Daughters (ten in number) led in, in a string, by Cupid, who is attired in a flat cap, and a prentice's coat, with wings at his shoulders.
His Kids (ten in total) were led in, in a line, by Cupid, who was wearing a flat cap and an apprentice's coat, with wings on his shoulders.
Misrule, in a velvet cap, with a sprig, a short cloak, great yellow ruff, his torch-bearer bearing a rope, a cheese, and a basket.
Mismanagement, wearing a velvet cap and a sprig, a short cloak, a big yellow ruff, with his torch-bearer carrying a rope, a cheese, and a basket.
Carol, a long tawney coat, with a red cap, and a flute at his girdle, his torch-bearer carrying a song-book open.
Carol, wearing a long tan coat, a red cap, and a flute at his side, while his torch-bearer held an open songbook.
Minced Pie, like a fine cook's wife, drest neat; her man carrying a pie, dish, and spoons.
Mince Pie, like a skilled chef's wife, dressed neatly; her husband carrying a pie, a dish, and some spoons.
Gambol, like a tumbler, with a hoop and bells; his torch-bearer arm'd with a colt staff and a binding staff.
Frolic, like a tumbler, with a hoop and bells; his torch-bearing arm equipped with a colt staff and a binding staff.
Post and Pair, with a pair-royal of aces in his hat; his garment all done over with pairs and purs; his squire carrying a box, cards, and counters.
Post and Pair, wearing a matching set of royal aces in his hat; his outfit completely covered with pairs and purs; his squire carrying a box, cards, and counters.
New Year's Gift, in a blue coat, serving man like, with an orange, and a sprig of rosemary gilt, on his head, his hat full of brooches, with a collar of gingerbread; his torch-bearer carrying a march pane with a bottle of wine on either arm.
New Year's Present, dressed in a blue coat, looking like a servant, with an orange and a gilded sprig of rosemary on his head, his hat loaded with brooches, and a collar made of gingerbread; his torchbearer carrying a marzipan with a bottle of wine under each arm.
Mumming, in a masquing pied suit, with a vizard; his torch-bearer carrying the box, and ringing it.
Mumming, in a colorful costume with a mask; his torchbearer carrying the box and ringing it.
Wassel, like a neat sempster and songster; her page bearing a brown bowl, drest with ribands, and rosemary, before her.
Wassail, like a tidy seamstress and singer; her page carrying a brown bowl, adorned with ribbons and rosemary, in front of her.
Offering, in a short gown, with a porter's staff in his hand, a wyth borne before him, and a bason, by his torch-bearer.
Offering, in a short dress, holding a porter's staff in his hand, a withe carried before him, and a basin, by his torchbearer.
Baby Cake (Twelfth cake), dressed like a boy, in a fine long coat, biggin bib, muckender, and a little dagger; his usher bearing a great cake, with a bean and a pease.
Baby Cake (Twelfth cake), dressed like a boy, in a nice long coat, a bonnet, a napkin, and a small dagger; his attendant carrying a large cake, with a bean and a pea.
After some dialogue, Christmas introduces his family in the following song:—
After some conversation, Christmas introduces his family in the following song:—
Now, their intent, is above to present, With all the accessories, A right Christmas, as, of old, it was, To be collected from the dances. Which they do bring, and afore the king, The queen and the prince, as it stands now Drawn here by love; who over and above, He also dresses himself up. |
[Here the drum and fife sounds, and they march about once. In the second coming up, Christmas proceeds to his Song.]
[Here the drum and fife play, and they march around once. In the next appearance, Christmas continues with his Song.]
Hum drum, sauce for a coney; No more of your war music; Even for the sake o' the next new stake, Because that's where I intend to use it. And now to ye, who in place are to see With roll and hoop skirt; I pray you know, though he want his bow, By the wings, this is Cupid. He might go back, for to cry What you lack? But that wasn't so clever: His cap and coat are enough to note, That he's the love of the city. And he leads on, though he now be gone, That was simply his rule: But now comes in, Tom of Bosom's-Inn, And he presents Mis-rule. Which you may know, by the very show, Even though you never ask it: For there you may see, what his ensigns be, The rope, the cheese, and the basket. This Carol plays, and has been in his days A singing boy and a cooking pot. Kit cobler it is, I'm a father of his, [Pg 141]And he lives on the street called Fill-pot. But, who is this? O, my daughter Cis, Minced Pie; don’t waste time with her On pain o' your life; she's an honest cook's wife, And comes out of Scalding Alley. Next in the trace, comes Play in place; To make my story shorter, My son Hercules, tane out of Distaff lane, But an energetic guy and a delivery person. Now, Post and match, old Christmas's heir, Make a playful exit; And wot you who, 'tis one of my two Sons, card makers in Pur-alley. Next, in a trice, with his box and his dice, Mac, my son, but younger, Brings Mumming in; and the knave will win For he is a vendor. But NYE Gift, of himself makes shift To tell you his name; With orange on head, and his gingerbread, Clem Waspe from Honey Lane, that's right. This, I you tell, is our jolly Wassail, And for Twelfth Night, it's more appropriate too; She works by the ell, and her name is Nell, And she lives on Threadneedle Street too. Then Offering, he, with his dish and his tree, That in every large house is maintained, Is by my son, young Little-worth, done, And he sleeps on Penny-rich street. Last Baby Cake, that an end doth make Of Christmas happy, happy spirit, Is child Rowlan, and a straight young man, Although he comes out of Crooked Lane-a. There should have been, and a dozen, I ween, But I could only find one more. Child of Christmas, and a Log it was, When I had sent them all away. I prayed him, in a tune so trim, That he would make one to show off: And I myself would have been the twelfth, Oh! but Log was too heavy to dance. |
Nor must we forget a Masque by Milton, "Comus, a Masque, at Ludlow Castle, 1634," in which appeared the Lord Brockley, Mr. Thomas Egerton, his brother, and the Lady Alice Egerton.
Nor must we forget a Masque by Milton, "Comus, a Masque, at Ludlow Castle, 1634," featuring Lord Brockley, Mr. Thomas Egerton, his brother, and Lady Alice Egerton.
But all Christmas sports were not so gentle as was the Masque, as the following account of the Virgin Queen's amusements shows us. Amongst the original letters preserved by the descendants of Sir John Kytson, of Hengrave Hall, is one addressed by Christopher Playter to Mr. Kytson, in 1572, which contains the following: "At Chris-time here were certayne mars of defence, that did challenge all comers at all weapons, as long sworde, staff, sword and buckler, rapier with the dagger: and here was many broken heads, and one of the mars of defence dyed upon the hurt which he received on his head. The challenge was before the quenes Matie, who seemes to have pleasure therein; for when some of them would have sollen a broken pate, her Majesty bade him not to be ashamed to put off his cap, and the blood was spied to run about his face. There was also at the corte new plays, wh lasted almost all night. The name of the play was huff, suff, and ruff, with other masks both of ladies and gents."
But not all Christmas sports were as gentle as the Masque, as the following account of the Virgin Queen's activities shows us. Among the original letters kept by the descendants of Sir John Kytson, of Hengrave Hall, is one from Christopher Playter to Mr. Kytson, written in 1572, which says: "At Christmas time, there were certain masters of defense who challenged all comers at various weapons, such as long sword, staff, sword and buckler, rapier with dagger: and there were many broken heads, and one of the masters of defense died from the injury he received on his head. The challenge took place before Her Majesty the Queen, who seemed to enjoy it; when some of them would have covered a broken head, Her Majesty told him not to be embarrassed about taking off his cap, and blood was seen running down his face. There were also new plays at court that lasted almost all night. The name of the play was Huff, Suff, and Ruff, along with other masks featuring both ladies and gentlemen."
We have seen in the account of historic Christ-tides how a Lord of Misrule was nominated to amuse Edward VI., and with what honour he was received at the Mansion house. The popular idea of the Lord of Misrule is that he was a buffoon; but this is far from being the case. Warton says that, in an original draught of the Statutes of Trinity College, Cambridge, founded in 1546, one of the chapters is entitled "De Præfecto Ludorum, qui Imperator dicitur." And it was ordered, as defining the office of "Emperor," that one of the Masters of Arts should be placed over the juniors every Christmas for the regulation of their games and diversions at that season. His sovereignty was to last during the twelve days of Christmas, and also on Candlemas day, and his fee was forty shillings. Warton also found a disbursement in an audit book of Trinity Coll. Oxon. for 1559. "Pro prandio Principis Natalicii."
We have seen in the account of historic Christmas celebrations how a Lord of Misrule was chosen to entertain Edward VI, and how he was honored at the Mansion House. The common perception of the Lord of Misrule is that he was just a jester; however, that’s not accurate. Warton mentions that in an original draft of the Statutes of Trinity College, Cambridge, established in 1546, one of the chapters is titled "De Præfecto Ludorum, qui Ruler dicitur." It was stipulated that one of the Masters of Arts would oversee the junior students every Christmas, regulating their games and festivities during that time. His rule would last for the twelve days of Christmas and on Candlemas day, and he would receive a payment of forty shillings. Warton also discovered an entry in an audit book of Trinity College, Oxford, from 1559 that states, "For the meal of the Principis Natalicii."
Anthony à Wood, in his Athenæ, speaking of the "Christmas Prince of St. John's College, whom the Juniors have annually, for the most part, elected from the first foundation of that College," says: "The custom was not only observed in that College, but in several other Houses, particularly in Merton College, where, from the first foundation, the fellows annually elected, about St. Edmund's Day, in November, a Christmas Lord, or Lord of Misrule, styled in the Registers Rex Fabarum, and Rex Regni Fabarum: which custom continued till the Reformation of Religion, and then that pro[Pg 144]ducing Puritanism, and Puritanism Presbytery, the possession of it looked upon such laudable and ingenious customs as popish, diabolical, and anti-Christian."
Anthony à Wood, in his Athenæ, talks about the "Christmas Prince of St. John's College, who is mostly elected yearly from the original founding members of that College," stating: "This tradition wasn't just followed in that College but in several other Houses, especially in Merton College, where, from the very beginning, the fellows would choose, around St. Edmund's Day in November, a Christmas Lord, or Lord of Misrule, referred to in the Registers as Rex Fabarum, and Rex Regni Fabarum: this custom lasted until the Religious Reformation, and then the rising Puritanism and its Presbyterianism viewed such admirable and clever traditions as popish, evil, and anti-Christian."
The office was one of dignity, as we may see by Henry Machyn's diary, 1551-52: "The iiij day of Januarii was made a grett skaffold in chepe, hard by the crosse, agaynst the kynges lord of myssrule cummyng from Grenwyche and (he) landyd at Toure warff, and with hym yonge knyghts and gentyllmen a gret nombur on hosse bake sum in gownes and cotes and chaynes abowt ther nekes, and on the Toure hyll ther they went in order, furst a standard of yelow and grene sylke with Saint George, and then gounes and skuybes (squibs) and trompets and bagespypes, and drousselars and flutes, and then a gret company all in yelow and gren, and docturs declaryng my lord grett, and then the mores danse, dansyng with a tabret," etc.
The office had a sense of dignity, as noted in Henry Machyn's diary, 1551-52: "On January 4th, a big scaffold was set up in Cheapside, near the cross, for the King's Lord of Misrule coming from Greenwich, who landed at Tower Wharf, along with a great number of young knights and gentlemen on horseback, some in gowns and coats with chains around their necks. They proceeded in order up Tower Hill, first carrying a yellow and green silk standard with Saint George, followed by gowns, squibs, trumpets, bagpipes, drummers, and flutes, and then a large company all in yellow and green, with doctors proclaiming my lord’s greatness, and then the morris dance, dancing to a tambourine," etc.
But so popular were these Lords of Misrule that every nobleman and person of position had one. Henry Percy, fifth Earl of Northumberland, had one certainly in 1512, whose fee was 30s. Nor did Sir Thomas More, when attached to the household of Cardinal Morton, object to "stepp in among the players." That they were usual adjuncts to great houses is evidenced by an extract from Churchyard's Lamentacion of Freyndshypp, a ballad printed about 1565:—
But these Lords of Misrule were so popular that every nobleman and person of status had one. Henry Percy, the fifth Earl of Northumberland, definitely had one in 1512, whose fee was 30 shillings. Sir Thomas More, when part of Cardinal Morton’s household, didn’t mind “stepping in among the players.” Their presence at grand houses is shown by a passage from Churchyard's Lamentacion of Freyndshypp, a ballad printed around 1565:—
Men are so used these dayes wyth wordes, They take them but for jestes and boordes, That Christmas Lordes were wont to speke. |
Stow tells us that, by an Act of Common Council, 12, Philip and Mary, for retrenching expenses, among other things it was ordered that the Lord Mayor or Sheriffs shall not keep any Lord of Misrule in any of their houses. But it still seems to have been customary for Sheriffs, at least, to have them, for Richard Evelyn, Esq. (father of the diarist), who kept his Shrievalty of Surrey and Sussex in 1634, in a most splendid manner, did not forego his Lord of Misrule, as the following shows:—
Stow tells us that, by an Act of Common Council, 12, Philip and Mary, to cut costs, it was ordered that the Lord Mayor or Sheriffs should not have any Lord of Misrule in their houses. However, it seems that it was still customary for the Sheriffs, at least, to have them, because Richard Evelyn, Esq. (father of the diarist), who held his Shrievalty of Surrey and Sussex in 1634 in a very grand way, did not give up his Lord of Misrule, as the following shows:—
"Articles made and appoynted by the Right Woll Richard Evelyn Esq., [Pg 145]High Sheriffe and Deputie Leavetenaunt to the Kinge's Matie for the Counties of Surrey and Sussex.
"Articles made and appointed by the Right Honorable Richard Evelyn Esq., [Pg 145]High Sheriff and Deputy Lieutenant to the King's Majesty for the Counties of Surrey and Sussex."
"Imprimis. I give free leave to Owen Flood my Trumpeter, gent. to be Lod of Misrule of all good Orders during the twelve dayes. And also I give free leave to the said Owen Flood to com[m]and all and every person whatsoevr, as well servants as others, to be at his com[m]and whensoevr he shall sound his Trumpett or Musick, and to do him good service as though I were present my selfe at their perills.
"In the first place. I give Owen Flood, my trumpeter, permission to be the Lord of Misrule for all good orders during the twelve days. I also allow Owen Flood to command everyone, both servants and others, to be at his command whenever he plays his trumpet or music, and to serve him well as if I were present myself at their risk."
"His Lopp commaunds every person or persons whatsoevr to appeare at the Hall at seaven of the Clocke in the morninge, to be at prayers, and afterwards to be at his Lopps commaunds, upon paine of punishment, accordinge as his Lopp shall thinke fitt.
"His Lordship commands everyone to appear at the Hall at seven o'clock in the morning for prayers, and afterward to follow his Lordship’s orders, under the threat of punishment as he sees fit."
"If any person shall sware any oath wthin the precinct of the ... shall suffer punishment at his Lopps pleasure.
"If anyone swears an oath within the precinct of the ... shall face punishment at his Lordship's discretion."
"If any man shall come into the Hall, and sett at dinner or supper more than once, he shall endure punishment at his Lopps pleasure.
"If any man comes into the Hall and sits down for dinner or supper more than once, he will face punishment at his lord's discretion."
"If any man shal bee drunke, or drinke more than is fitt, or offer to sleepe during the time abovesaid, or do not drinke up his bowle of beere, but flings away his snuffe (that is to say) the second draught, he shall drinke two, and afterwards be excluded.
"If anyone gets drunk, drinks more than they should, tries to sleep during the time mentioned above, or doesn't finish their beer and throws away their second drink, they will have to drink two more and then be excluded."
"If any man shall quarrell, or give any ill language to any person duringe the abovesaid twelve dayes wthin the gates or precinct thereof, he is in danger of his Lopps displeasure.
"If anyone has a fight or uses any offensive language toward anyone during the aforementioned twelve days within the gates or area, they risk incurring the displeasure of their Lordship."
"If any person shall come into the kitchen whiles meate is a dressinge, to molest the cookes, he shall suffer the rigor of his Lopps law.
"If anyone enters the kitchen while the food is being prepared to bother the cooks, they will face the full force of the law."
"If any man shall kisse any maid, widdow or wife, except to bid welcome or farewell, wthout his Lopps consent, he shall have punishment as his Lopp shall thinke convenient.
"If anyone kisses a maiden, a widow, or a wife, except to say hello or goodbye, without his lord's consent, he will be punished as his lord sees fit."
"The last article: I give full power and authoritie to his Lopp to breake up all lockes, bolts, barres, doores, and latches, and to flinge up all doores out of hendges to come at those whoe presume to disobey his Lopps commaunds.
"The last article: I give full power and authority to his Lordship to break open all locks, bolts, bars, doors, and latches, and to fling all doors off their hinges to reach those who dare to disobey his Lordship's commands."
"God save the King."
"God save the King."
These somewhat whimsical articles of agreement were evidently intended to prevent mirth relapsing into licence, which, unfortunately, was too often the case, especially with the Lord of Misrule or Prince of Love, who directed the revels of the law students. Gerard Legh, in The Accidens of Armory, 1562, says that Christmas was inaugurated with "the shot of double cannon, in so great a number, and so terrible, that it darkened the whole air," and meeting "an honest citizen, clothed in a long garment," he asked him its meaning, "who friendly answered, 'It is,' quoth he, 'a warning to the Constable Marshall of the Inner Temple to prepare the dinner.'"
These rather quirky agreements were clearly meant to keep fun from turning into chaos, which unfortunately was often the case, especially with the Lord of Misrule or Prince of Love, who oversaw the festivities for the law students. Gerard Legh, in The Accidens of Armory, 1562, mentions that Christmas kicked off with "the blast of double cannons, in such large numbers and so fearsome that it darkened the entire sky," and upon encountering "an honest citizen, dressed in a long robe," he asked him what it meant, to which the citizen replied, "It is," he said, "a reminder to the Constable Marshall of the Inner Temple to get ready for dinner."
Sir William Dugdale, in Origines Juridiciales (ed. 1666, p. 163, etc.), gives us the following account of a grand Christmas in the Inner Temple, "extracted out of the Accompts of the House":—
Sir William Dugdale, in Origines Juridiciales (ed. 1666, p. 163, etc.), provides the following account of a grand Christmas in the Inner Temple, "taken from the House's Accounts":—
"First, it hath been the duty of the Steward to provide five fat Brawns, Vessells, Wood, and other necessaries belonging to the Kitchin: As also all manner of Spices, Flesh, Fowl, and other Cates for the Kitchin.
"First, it has been the duty of the Steward to provide five plump boars, containers, firewood, and other supplies for the kitchen: as well as all kinds of spices, meat, poultry, and other foods for the kitchen."
"The Office of the Chief Butler to provide a rich Cupboard of Plate, Silver and Parcel gilt; Seaven dozen of Silver and gilt Spoons; Twelve fair Salt-cellars, likewise Silver and gilt; Twenty Candlesticks of the like.
"The Office of the Chief Butler to provide a well-stocked cupboard of plates, silverware, and partially gilded items; seven dozen silver and gilded spoons; twelve nice salt cellars, also silver and gilded; twenty candlesticks of the same kind."
"Twelve fine large Table Cloths of Damask and Diaper. Twenty dozen of Napkins suitable, at the least. Three dozen of fair large Towells; whereof the Gentlemen Servers and Butlers of the House to have, every of them, one at meal times, during their attendance. Likewise to provide Carving Knives: Twenty dozen of white Cups and green Potts; a Carving Table; Torches; Bread; Beer, and Ale. And the chief of the Butlers was to give attendance on the highest Table in the Hall, with Wine, Ale, and Beer; and all the other Butlers to attend at the other Tables in like sort.
"Twelve large tablecloths made of damask and diaper. At least twenty dozen napkins. Three dozen large towels; each gentleman server and butler of the house should have one during meal times while they are on duty. Also, provide carving knives: twenty dozen white cups and green pots; a carving table; torches; bread; beer, and ale. The head butler was to attend to the highest table in the hall, serving wine, ale, and beer; and all the other butlers were to serve at the other tables similarly."
"The Cupboard of Plate is to remain in the Hall on Christmass day, St. Stephan's day, and New Year's day. Upon the Banquetting night it was removed into the Buttry; which, in all respects, was very laudably performed.
"The Cupboard of Plate will stay in the Hall on Christmas day, St. Stephen's day, and New Year's day. On the night of the banquet, it was moved into the Buttery, which was done very commendably."
"The Office of the Constable Marshall to provide for his imployment, a fair gilt compleat Harneys, with a nest of[Pg 147] Fethers in the Helm; a fair Poleaxe to bear in his hand, to be chevalrously ordered on Christmass day, and other days, as, afterwards, is shewed: touching the ordering and setling of all which ceremonies, during the said grand Christmass, a solempn consultation was held at their Parliament in this House, in form following:—
"The Office of the Constable Marshall is to provide for his employment a complete set of fancy gilded armor, with a nest of[Pg 147] feathers in the helmet; a nice poleaxe for him to carry, to be used in a knightly manner on Christmas Day and other occasions, as detailed later on: regarding the organization and arrangement of all these ceremonies during the said grand Christmas, a solemn consultation was held at their Parliament in this House, in the following manner:—
"First, at the Parliament kept in their Parliament Chamber of this House, on the even at night of St. Thomas the Apostle, Officers are to attend, according as they had been, long before that time, at a former Parliament named and elected to undergo several offices for this time of solempnity, honour, and pleasance: Of which Officers, these are the most eminent; namely the Steward, Marshall, Constable Marshall, Butler, and Master of the Game. These Officers are made known, and elected in Trinity Term next before; and to have knowledg thereof by Letters, if in the Country, to the end that they may prepare themselves against All Hallow-tide; that, if such nominated Officers happen to fail, others may then be chosen in their rooms. The other Officers are appointed at other times neerer Christmass day.
"First, in the Parliament held in the Parliament Chamber of this House, on the evening of St. Thomas the Apostle, Officers are to attend, just as they had been called to do long before at a previous Parliament, where they were named and elected to perform various roles for this occasion of celebration, honor, and enjoyment. Among these Officers, the most prominent are the Steward, Marshall, Constable Marshall, Butler, and Master of the Game. These Officers are announced and elected during Trinity Term the year before; and they are to be informed by Letters, if they are in the Country, so that they can prepare for All Hallow-tide; if any of the nominated Officers are unable to attend, others may then be chosen to replace them. The other Officers are appointed at other times closer to Christmas day."
"If the Steward, or any of the said Officers named in Trinity Term, refuse, or fail, he, or they, were fined, every one, at the discretion of the Bench; and the Officers aforenamed agreed upon. And at such a Parliament, if it be fully resolved to proceed with such a grand Christmass, then the two youngest Butlers must light two Torches, and go before the Bench to the Upper end of the Hall; who, being set down, the ancientest Bencher delivereth a Speech, briefly to the whole society of gentlemen then present, touching their Consent, as afore; which ended, the eldest Butler is to publish all the Officers names, appointed in Parliament; and then in token of joy and good liking, the Bench and Company pass beneath the Harth, and sing a Carol, and so to Boyer (drink).
"If the Steward or any of the Officers mentioned in Trinity Term refuse or fail, he or they will be fined at the discretion of the Bench, and the previously agreed-upon Officers. At such a Parliament, if it’s fully decided to go ahead with the grand Christmass, then the two youngest Butlers must light two Torches and lead the way to the upper end of the Hall. Once seated, the oldest Bencher gives a brief speech to everyone present about their consent, as mentioned earlier. After that, the eldest Butler announces the names of all the Officers appointed in Parliament. Then, to celebrate and show good spirits, the Bench and Company pass beneath the Harth and sing a Carol, followed by a round of drinks at Boyer."
"The Marshall at Dinner is to place at the highest Table's end, and next to the Library, all on one side thereof, the most ancient persons in the Company present: the Dean of the Chapell next to him; then an Antient, or Bencher, beneath him. At the other end of the Table, the Server, Cup-bearer and Carver. At the upper end of the Bench Table, the King's Serjeant[Pg 148] and Chief Butler: and, when the Steward hath served in, and set on the Table, the first Mess, then he, also, is to sit down.
The Marshall at Dinner is supposed to sit at the highest end of the table, next to the Library, with the oldest people in the group sitting on that side. The Dean of the Chapel should sit next to him, followed by an Elder or Bencher below him. At the other end of the table are the Server, Cup-bearer, and Carver. At the upper end of the Bench Table sit the King's Serjeant[Pg 148] and Chief Butler: and once the Steward has served and set the first course on the table, he is also to take a seat.
"Also, at the upper end of the other Table, on the other side of the Hall, are to be placed the three Masters of the Revells; and at the lower end of the Bench Table, are to sit, the King's Attorney, the Ranger of the Forest, and the Master of the Game. And, at the lower end of the Table, on the other side of the Hall, the fourth Master of the Revells, the Common Sergeant, and Constable Marshall. And, at the upper end of the Utter Barister's Table, the Marshall sitteth, when he hath served in the first Mess: The Clark of the Kitchin, also, and the Clark of the Sowce-tub, when they have done their offices in the Kitchin, sit down. And, at the upper end of the Clark's Table, the Lieutenant of the Tower, and the attendant to the Buttry are placed.
"Also, at the upper end of the other table, on the opposite side of the hall, the three Masters of the Revels will be seated; and at the lower end of the Bench Table, the King's Attorney, the Ranger of the Forest, and the Master of the Game will sit. And, at the lower end of the table, on the other side of the hall, the fourth Master of the Revels, the Common Sergeant, and the Constable Marshall will be placed. At the upper end of the Utter Barrister's Table, the Marshall sits after serving in the first mess: The Clerk of the Kitchen, as well as the Clerk of the Sauce-tub, will take their seats after they have done their duties in the kitchen. Furthermore, at the upper end of the Clerk's Table, the Lieutenant of the Tower and the attendant to the Buttery will be seated."
"At these two Tables last rehersed, the persons there, may sit on both sides of the Table: but, of the other three Tables, all are to sit upon one side. And then, the Butlers, or Christmas servants, are first to cover the Tables with fair linnen Table-Cloths; and furnish them with Salt-cellars, Napkins and Trenchers, and a Silver Spoon. And then, the Butlers of the House must place at the Salt-cellar, at every the said first three highest Tables, a stock of Trenchers, and Bread: and, at the other Tables, Bread only, without Trenchers.
"At the two tables just mentioned, people can sit on both sides. However, at the other three tables, everyone has to sit on one side. The butlers, or Christmas helpers, are responsible for covering the tables with nice linen tablecloths and setting them up with salt cellars, napkins, and wooden plates, along with a silver spoon. Next, the house butlers need to place a supply of wooden plates and bread at each of the three highest tables next to the salt cellar, and at the other tables, they should only provide bread without wooden plates."
"At the first Course the Minstrells must sound their Instruments, and go before; and the Steward and Marshall are, next, to follow together; and, after them, the Gentlemen Server; and, then, cometh the meat. Those three Officers are to make, altogether, three solempn Curtesies, at three several times, between the Skreen and the upper Table; beginning with the first, at the end of the Bencher's table; the second at the midst; and the third at the other end; and then, standing by, the Server performeth his Office.
"At the beginning of the meal, the musicians will play their instruments and lead the way; then the Steward and Marshall will follow together; after them, the Gentlemen Servers will come; and then the food will be served. These three officials will make three formal bows at three different times, between the screen and the main table; starting with the first bow at the end of the Bencher's table; the second in the middle; and the third at the other end; and then, standing by, the Server will do his job."
"When the first Table is set and served, the Steward's Table is next to be served. After him, the Master's table of the Revells; then that of the Master of the Game, the High Constable-Marshall: Then the Lieutenant of the[Pg 149] Tower; then the Utter Barister's table; and lastly, the Clerk's table. All which time the Musick must stand right above the Harthside, with the noise of their Musick, their faces direct towards the highest Table: and, that done, to return into the Buttry, with their Musick sounding.
"When the first table is set and served, the Steward's table is next to be served. After that, it's the Master's table for the Revels; then the Master of the Game's table, followed by the High Constable-Marshall's; then the Lieutenant of the[Pg 149] Tower; then the Utter Barrister's table; and finally, the Clerk's table. During all this time, the musicians must stand right above the hearth, playing their music, facing towards the highest table. Once that's done, they should return to the Buttery, with their music still playing."
"At the second course, every Table is to be served, as at the first Course, in every respect, which performed, the Servitors and Musicians are to resort to the place assigned them to dine at; which is the Valect's, or Yeoman's Table, beneath the Skreen. Dinner ended, the Musicians prepare to sing a Song, at the highest Table; which ceremony accomplished, then the Officers are to address themselves, every one in his office, to avoid the Tables in fair and decent manner, they beginning at the Clerk's Table; thence proceed to the next; and thence to all the others, till the highest Table be solempnly avoided.
"At the second course, every table should be served just like at the first course. Once that’s done, the servers and musicians will head to their assigned dining area, which is the Valet's or Yeoman's Table, below the screen. After dinner, the musicians will prepare to perform a song at the highest table. Once that’s finished, the officers will each tend to their duties and clear the tables in a polite and respectful manner, starting at the Clerk's Table, then moving to the next, and continuing until they've cleared all the tables, finishing with the highest one."
"Then, after a little repose, the persons at the highest Table arise, and prepare to Revells: in which time, the Butlers and other Servitors with them, are to dine in the Library.
"Then, after a short break, the people at the highest table get up and get ready for the festivities. Meanwhile, the butlers and other servants will have their meal in the library."
"At both the dores in the Hall, are Porters to view the Comers in and out at meal times: To each of them is allowed a Cast of Bread and a Candle nightly, after Supper.
"At both doors in the Hall, there are Porters to watch the people coming in and out during meal times. Each of them gets a piece of bread and a candle every night after dinner."
"At night, before Supper, are Revells and Dancing; and so also after Supper, during the twelve days of Christmass. The antientest Master of the Revells is, after Dinner and Supper, to sing a Caroll, or Song; and command other Gentlemen then there present, to sing with him and the Company, and so it is very decently performed.
"At night, before dinner, there are festivities and dancing; and also after dinner, during the twelve days of Christmas. The oldest Master of the Revels is to lead a carol or song after dinner and supper, and asks the other gentlemen present to join him and the group, and it's done in a very proper manner."
"A Repast at Dinner is viiid.
"A repast at dinner is 8d."
"Service in the Church ended, the Gentlemen presently repair into the Hall, to Breakfast, with Brawn, Mustard, and Malmsey.
"After the church service, the gentlemen went to the hall for breakfast, which included brawn, mustard, and malmsey."
"At Dinner, the Butler appointed for the grand Christmass, is to see the Tables covered and furnished: and the ordinary Butlers of the House are decently to set Bread, Napkins, and Trenchers in good form, at every Table; with Spoones and Knives.
"At dinner, the butler assigned for the grand Christmas is in charge of setting up the tables. The regular butlers of the house should neatly arrange bread, napkins, and plates at each table, along with spoons and knives."
"At the first Course is served in, a fair and large Bore's head, upon a Silver Platter, with Minstralsye. Two Gentle[Pg 150]men in Gownes are to attend at Supper, and to bear two fair Torches of Wax, next before the Musicians and Trumpeters, and stand above the Fire with the Musick, till the first Course be served in, through the Hall. Which performed, they, with the Musick, are to return to the Buttry. The like course is to be observed in all things, during the time of Christmass. The like at Supper.
"At the first course, a beautiful and large boar's head is served on a silver platter, accompanied by music. Two gentlemen in gowns will attend the supper, carrying two nice wax torches in front of the musicians and trumpeters. They will stand by the fire with the music until the first course has been served throughout the hall. Once that's done, they and the musicians will return to the pantry. This same arrangement will be followed for everything during the Christmas season. The same goes for supper."
"At Service time this Evening, the two youngest Butlers are to bear Torches in the Genealogia. A Repast at Dinner is xiid. which Strangers of worth are admitted to take in the Hall; and such are to be placed at the discretion of the Marshall.
"At service time this evening, the two youngest butlers will hold torches in the Genealogy. A meal at dinner costs 12 pence, where respected guests are invited to dine in the hall; and they will be seated at the discretion of the marshal."
"The Butler appointed for Christmass is to see the Tables covered, and furnished with Salt-cellars, Napkins, Bread, Trenchers and Spoones. Young gentlemen of the House are to attend and serve till the latter Dinner, and then dine themselves.
"The Butler assigned for Christmas is to make sure the tables are set up with salt shakers, napkins, bread, plates, and spoons. Young men of the household are to be present and serve until the later dinner, and then they can have their own meal."
"This day, the Server, Carver and Cup-bearer are to serve, as afore. After the first Course served in, the Constable Marshall cometh into the Hall, 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 Poleaxe in his hand: to whom is associate the Lieutenant of the Tower, armed with a fair white Armour, a Nest of Fethers in his Helm, and a like Poleaxe in his hand; and with them sixteen Trumpetters; four Drums and Fifes going in rank before them: and, with them, attendeth four men in white Harneys, from the middle upwards, and Halberds in their hands, bearing on their shoulders the Tower; which persons, with the Drums, Trumpets and Musick, go three times about the Fire. Then the Constable Marshall, after two or three Curtesies made, kneeleth down before the Lord Chancellor; behind him the Lieutenant; and they kneeling, the Constable Marshall pronounceth an Oration of a quarter of an hour's length, thereby declaring the purpose of his coming; and that his purpose is, to be admitted into his Lordship's service.
"This day, the Server, Carver, and Cup-bearer are set to serve, as before. After the first course is served, the Constable Marshal walks into the Hall, dressed in a beautiful, lavish, complete armor, white and bright, and gilded; with a colorful plume on his helmet, and a gilded poleaxe in his hand. Accompanying him is the Lieutenant of the Tower, wearing elegant white armor, a plume on his helmet, and a similar poleaxe in his hand; along with them are sixteen trumpeters and four drummers and fife players marching in front. Additionally, there are four men dressed in white armor from the waist up, carrying halberds, and bearing the Tower on their shoulders. These individuals, along with the drums, trumpets, and music, circle the fire three times. Then the Constable Marshal, after bowing two or three times, kneels down before the Lord Chancellor, with the Lieutenant behind him. As they kneel, the Constable Marshal delivers a speech lasting about a quarter of an hour, stating the purpose of his visit and expressing his intention to be admitted into his Lordship's service."
"The Lord Chancellor saith, He will take farther advice thereon.[Pg 151]
"The Lord Chancellor says he will seek further advice on this.[Pg 151]
"Then the Constable Marshall, standing up, in submissive manner, delivereth his naked Sword to the Steward, who giveth it to the Lord Chancellour: and, thereupon, the Lord Chancellour willeth the Marshall to place the Constable Marshall in his Seat; and so he doth, with the Lieutenant, also, in his Seat or Place. During this ceremony, the Tower is placed beneath the fire.
"Then the Constable Marshall, standing up in a submissive way, hands his naked sword to the Steward, who gives it to the Lord Chancellor. After that, the Lord Chancellor instructs the Marshall to seat the Constable Marshall, which he does, along with the Lieutenant, in his seat or place. During this ceremony, the Tower is placed under the fire."
"Then cometh in the Master of the Game apparalled in green Velvet: and the Ranger of the Forest also, in a green suit of Satten; bearing in his hand a green Bow, and divers Arrows; with, either of them, a Hunting Horn about their Necks; blowing together three blasts of Venery, they pace round about the fire three times. Then the Master of the Game maketh three Curtesies, as aforesaid; and kneeleth down before the Lord Chancellour, declaring the cause of his coming, and desireth to be admitted into his service, &c. All this time, the Ranger of the Forest standeth directly behind him. Then the Master of the Game standeth up.
"Then the Master of the Game enters, dressed in green velvet, along with the Ranger of the Forest, who is wearing a green satin suit. The Ranger has a green bow and various arrows in his hand, and both of them have a hunting horn hanging around their necks. They blow three blasts together on their horns as they walk around the fire three times. After that, the Master of the Game bows three times, as mentioned earlier, and kneels down before the Lord Chancellor, explaining why he has come and asking to be accepted into his service, etc. During this time, the Ranger of the Forest stands directly behind him. Then the Master of the Game gets back up."
"This ceremony also performed, 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 Hornes. And the Fox and Cat are, by the Hounds, set upon, and killed beneath the Fire. This sport finished, the Marshall placeth them in their several appointed places.
"This ceremony complete, a Huntsman enters the Hall, carrying a Fox and a Purse-net; along with a Cat, both tied to the end of a staff; and with them, nine or ten pairs of Hounds, accompanied by the sound of Hunting Horns. The Hounds chase the Fox and Cat, and they are killed by the fire. Once this sport is over, the Marshall places them in their designated spots."
"Then proceedeth the second Course; which done, and served out, the Common Serjeant delivereth a plausible Speech to the Lord Chancellour, and his Company, at the highest Table, how necessary a thing it is to have Officers at this present; the Constable Marshall, and Master of the Game, for the better honour and reputation of the Common-Wealth; and wisheth them to be received, &c.
"Then comes the second course; once that's done and served, the Common Sergeant gives a convincing speech to the Lord Chancellor and his guests at the main table, discussing how important it is to have officials right now, like the Marshal and the Master of the Game, for the sake of the honor and reputation of the Commonwealth; and he wishes for their acceptance, etc."
"Then the King's Serjeant at Law declareth and inferreth the necessity; which heard, the Lord Chancellour desireth respite of farther advice. Then the antientist of the Masters of the Revells singeth a Song, with assistance of others there present.
"Then the King’s Serjeant at Law declares and discusses the necessity; after hearing this, the Lord Chancellor asks for more time to think it over. Then the senior Master of the Revels sings a song, with help from others who are present."
"At Supper, the Hall is to be served with all solempnity, as upon Christmass day, both the first and second Course[Pg 152] to the highest Table. Supper ended, the Constable Marshall presenteth himself with Drums afore him, mounted upon a Scaffold, borne by four men; and goeth three times round about the Harthe, crying out aloud, A Lord, A Lord, &c. Then he descendeth and goeth to dance, &c., and, after, he calleth his Court, every one by name, one by one, in this Manner:—
"At dinner, the hall should be set up with all the formality of Christmas day, for both the first and second courses[Pg 152] at the highest table. Once dinner is finished, the Constable Marshall presents himself with drums in front of him, standing on a platform carried by four men; and he circles around the hearth three times, shouting loudly, A Lord, A Lord, etc. Then he gets down and joins in the dancing, etc., and afterwards, he calls his court, one by one, each by name, in this manner:—
"Sir Francis Flatterer, of Fowleshurst, in the County of Buckingham.
Sir Francis Flatterer, of Fowleshurst, in the County of Buckingham.
Sir Randle Backbite, of Rascall Hall, in the County of Rake Hell.
Sir Randle Backbite, of Rascall Hall, in the County of Rake Hell .
Sir Morgan Mumchance, of Much Monkery, in the County of Mad Mopery.
Sir Morgan Mumchance, of Much Monking, in the County of Sad Silliness.
Sir Bartholomew Baldbreech, of Buttocksbury, in the County of Breke neck.
Sir Bartholomew Baldbreech, from Buttocksbury, in the County of Break neck.
"This done, the Lord of Misrule addresseth himself to the Banquet: which ended with some Minstralsye, mirth and dancing, every man departeth to rest.
"This done, the Lord of Misrule turns to the banquet: when it ends with some music, laughter, and dancing, everyone heads off to rest."
"At every Mess is a pot of Wine allowed. Every Repast is vid.
"At every meal, a pot of wine is allowed. Each meal costs six pence."
"About Seaven of the Clock in the Morning, the Lord of Misrule is abroad, and, if he lack any Officer or Attendant, he repaireth to their Chambers, and compelleth them to attend in person upon him after Service in the Church, to breakfast, with Brawn, Mustard and Malmsey. After Breakfast ended, his Lordship's power is in suspence, untill his personal presence at night; and then his power is most potent.
"At around seven in the morning, the Lord of Misrule is out and about, and if he’s missing any officers or attendants, he goes to their rooms and forces them to be present with him after the church service, where they have breakfast together featuring brawn, mustard, and malmsey. After breakfast, his authority is temporarily on hold until he makes his appearance at night, when his power is at its strongest."
"At Dinner and Supper is observed the Diet and service performed on St. Stephan's day. After the second Course served in, the King's Serjeant, Oratour like, declareth the disorder of the Constable Marshall, and of the Common Serjeant; which complaint is answered by the Common Serjeant, who defendeth himself and the Constable Marshall with words of great efficacy: Hereto the King's Serjeant replyeth. They rejoyn &c., and whoso is found faulty, committed to the Tower &c.
"At dinner and supper, the diet and service are conducted on St. Stephen's Day. After the second course is served, the King's Serjeant, like an orator, announces the misconduct of the Constable Marshall and the Common Serjeant; this complaint is addressed by the Common Serjeant, who defends himself and the Constable Marshall with very effective words: To this, the King's Serjeant responds. They continue to argue, and whoever is found at fault is committed to the Tower, etc."
"If any Officer be absent at Dinner or Supper Times; if it be complained of, he that sitteth in his place is adjudged to have like punishment, as the Officer should have had,[Pg 153] being present: and then, withall, he is enjoyned to supply the Office of the true absent Officer, in all points. If any offendor escape from the Lieutenant, into the Buttery, and bring into the Hall a Manchet upon the point of a knife, he is pardoned. For the Buttry, in that case, is a Sanctuary. After Cheese served to the Table, not any is commanded to sing.
"If any officer is absent during dinner or supper, if it’s complained about, the person sitting in their place will receive the same punishment that the officer would have gotten for being there: and then they are also required to take over the duties of the absent officer in every way. If any offender manages to escape from the lieutenant into the buttery and comes into the hall with a roll on the end of a knife, they are pardoned. The buttery, in that case, is a sanctuary. After cheese is served at the table, no one is required to sing.[Pg 153]"
"In the Morning, as afore, on Monday, the Hall is served; saving that the Server, Carver and Cup bearer do not attend any service. Also like Ceremony at Supper.
"In the morning, as before, on Monday, the hall is served; except that the server, carver, and cupbearer do not attend any service. The same ceremony takes place at supper."
"In the Morning no Breakfast at all; but like service as afore is mentioned, both at Dinner and Supper.
"In the morning, there’s no breakfast at all; but the service is the same as mentioned before, both at dinner and supper."
"At Breakfast, Brawn, Mustard and Malmsey. At Dinner, Roast Beef, Venison-Pasties, with like solempnities as afore. And at Supper, Mutton and Hens roasted.
"At breakfast, there were meat, mustard, and sweet wine. At lunch, roast beef, venison pasties, and the same formalities as before. And at dinner, roasted mutton and hens."
"In the Morning, Breakfast, as formerly. At Dinner like solempnity as on Christmass Eve.
"In the morning, breakfast, just like before. At dinner, the same solemnity as on Christmas Eve."
"The Banquetting Night.
"The Banquet Night."
"It is proper to the Butler's Office to give warning to every House of Court, of this Banquet; to the end that they, and the Innes of Chancery be invited thereto, to see a Play and Mask. The Hall is to be furnished with Scaffolds to sit on, for Ladies to behold the Sports, on each side. Which ended, the Ladies are to be brought into the Library, unto the Banquet there; and a Table is to be covered and furnished with all Banquetting Dishes, for the Lord Chancellour, in the Hall; where he is to call to him the Ancients of other Houses, as many as may be on the one side of the Table. The Banquet is to be served in, by Gentlemen of the House.
"It’s the Butler's Office's job to notify every House of Court about this Banquet, so they and the Inns of Chancery can be invited to watch a Play and Mask. The Hall will be set up with scaffolding on each side for the Ladies to view the festivities. Once that's finished, the Ladies will be taken into the Library for the Banquet; a table will be set and filled with all kinds of Banquet Dishes for the Lord Chancellor in the Hall, where he will invite the older members from other Houses to sit on one side of the table. The Banquet will be served by the Gentlemen of the House."
"The Marshall and Steward are to come before the Lord Chancellour's Mess. The Butlers for Christmas must serve Wine; and the Butlers of the House, Beer and Ale &c. When the Banquet is ended, then cometh into the[Pg 154] Hall, the Constable Marshall, fairly mounted on his Mule; and deviseth some sport, for passing away the rest of the night.
"The Marshall and Steward are to appear before the Lord Chancellor's mess. The Butlers for Christmas must serve wine; and the House Butlers will serve beer and ale, etc. Once the banquet is over, the Constable Marshall rides into the[Pg 154] hall on his mule and arranges some entertainment to pass the rest of the night."
"At Breakfast, Brawn, Mustard and Malmsey, after Morning Prayer ended: And, at Dinner, the Hall is to be served as upon St. John's Day."
"At breakfast, Brawn, Mustard, and Malmsey, after morning prayer ended: And, at dinner, the hall is to be served as on St. John's Day."
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CHAPTER XX A riotous Lord of Misrule at the Temple—Stubbes on Lords of Misrule—The Bishops ditto—Mumming at Norwich, 1440—Dancing at the Inns of Court—Dancing at Christmas—The Cushion Dance. |
The high spirits of the "Temple Sparks" occasionally led them to licence, as the author of The Reign of King Charles (1655) tells us was the case in 1627. "That Christmas the Temple Sparks had enstalled a Lieutenant, which we country folk call a Lord of Misrule. The Lieutenant had, on Twelfth eve, late in the night, sent out to collect his rents in Ramme Alley and Fleet Street, limiting five shillings to every house. At every door they winded their Temple horn, and if it procured not entrance at the second blast or summons, the word of command was then 'Give fire, gunner.' This gunner was a robustious Vulcan, and his engine a mighty smith's hammer. The next morning the Lord Mayor of London was made acquainted therewith, and promised to be with them next night; commanding all that ward, and also the watch, to attend him with their halberds. At the hour prefixt, the Lord Mayor and his train marched up in martial equipage to Ramme Alley.
The high spirits of the "Temple Sparks" sometimes led them to act out, as the author of The Reign of King Charles (1655) mentions was true in 1627. "That Christmas, the Temple Sparks appointed a Lieutenant, which we country folks call a Lord of Misrule. On Twelfth Night, late into the evening, the Lieutenant sent out to collect his rents in Ramme Alley and Fleet Street, capping it at five shillings for each house. At every door, they blew their Temple horn, and if it didn’t get them in by the second blow, the command was 'Give fire, gunner.' This gunner was a burly fellow, like Vulcan, and his weapon was a big blacksmith's hammer. The next morning, the Lord Mayor of London was informed about this and promised to join them the following night, ordering everyone from that ward and the watch to accompany him with their halberds. At the appointed hour, the Lord Mayor and his entourage marched in military style to Ramme Alley.
"Out came the Lieutenant with his suit of Gallants, all armed in cuerpo. One of the Halberdiers bade the Lieutenant come to my Lord Mayor. 'No,' said the Lieutenant, 'let the Lord Mayor come to me.' But this controversy was soon ended, they advancing each to other, till they met half way; then one of the Halberdiers reproved the Lieutenant for standing covered before the Lord Mayor. The Lieutenant gave so crosse an answere, as it begat as crosse a blow; which, the Gentlemen, not brooking, began to lay about[Pg 156] them; but in fine the Lieutenant was knockt down and sore wounded, and the Halberdiers had the better of the swords. The Lord Mayor being master of the field, took the Lieutenant, and haled rather than led him to the Counter, and with indignation thrust him in at the prison gate, where he lay till the Attorney General mediated for his enlargement, which the Lord Mayor granted upon condition he should submit and acknowledge his fault. The Lieutenant readily embraced the motion; and, the next day, performing the condition, so ended this Christmas Game."
"Out came the Lieutenant with his fancy outfit, all geared up. One of the Halberdiers told the Lieutenant to meet the Lord Mayor. 'No,' said the Lieutenant, 'let the Lord Mayor come to me.' But this disagreement was quickly resolved as they both moved toward each other until they met halfway. Then one of the Halberdiers scolded the Lieutenant for staying covered in front of the Lord Mayor. The Lieutenant replied sharply, which led to a sharp blow; the Gentlemen, not taking it well, started swinging at them. In the end, the Lieutenant was knocked down and badly injured, and the Halberdiers were victorious with the swords. The Lord Mayor, being the one in charge, took the Lieutenant and dragged him rather than led him to the jail, and with anger, shoved him through the prison gate, where he stayed until the Attorney General intervened for his release, which the Lord Mayor agreed to under the condition that he would admit his mistake. The Lieutenant quickly accepted the offer; and the next day, fulfilling the condition, this Christmas conflict came to an end."
We can hardly expect an unbiassed opinion on the subject of Lords of Misrule, or any other merriment, from Phillip Stubbes, the Puritan, who, in The Anatomie of Abuses (ed. 1583), speaking of these "Christmas Lords," says: "The name, indeed, is odious both to God and good men, and such as the very heathen people would have blushed at once to have named amongst them. And, if the name importeth some evil, then, what may the thing it selfe be, judge you? But, because you desire to know the manner of them, I will showe you as I have seen them practised myself.
We can hardly expect an unbiased opinion on the subject of Lords of Misrule or any other festivities from Phillip Stubbes, the Puritan, who, in The Anatomie of Abuses (ed. 1583), referring to these "Christmas Lords," says: "The name is indeed detestable both to God and decent people, and it’s something that even the most uncivilized societies would have been embarrassed to mention. And if the name itself implies something negative, then what do you think the thing itself is like? But since you want to know how they operated, I will share what I have witnessed myself."
"First, all the wilde-heds of the parish, conventing togither, chuse them a graund-captain (of all mischeefe) whom they innoble with the title of my Lord of Mis-rule, and him they crowne with great solemnitie, and adopt for their king. This king anointed chuseth forth twentie, fortie, three score, or a hundred lustie guttes, like to him self, to waight uppon his lordlie Majestie, and to guarde his noble person. Then, everie one of these his men, he investeth with his liveries of green, yellow, or some other light wanton colour; and, as though they were not gaudie enough, I should say, they bedecke them selves with scarfs, ribons and laces, hanged all over with golde rings, precious stones, and other jewels; this doon, they tye about either leg xx or xl bels, with rich handkerchiefs in their hands, and sometimes laid a crosse over their shoulders and necks, borrowed for the most parte of their pretie Mopsies and looving Besses, for bussing them in the dark.
"First, all the wild-heads of the parish gather together to choose a grand captain (of all mischief) whom they honor with the title of my Lord of Misrule, and they crown him with great ceremony, adopting him as their king. This anointed king selects twenty, forty, sixty, or a hundred lively fellows, just like him, to serve his royal Majesty and to protect his noble self. Each of these men is dressed in bright green, yellow, or other light, playful colors; and, as if they weren't flashy enough, they deck themselves out with scarves, ribbons, and laces, covered in gold rings, precious stones, and other jewels. After that, they tie twenty or forty bells around each leg, holding rich handkerchiefs in their hands, and sometimes they drape a cross over their shoulders and necks, borrowed mostly from their pretty Mopsies and loving Besses, for kissing them in the dark."
"Thus, al things set in order, then have they their hobby horses, dragons and other antiques, togither with their baudie pipers and thundering drummers, to strike up the[Pg 157] devil's daunce withall. Then marche these heathen company towards the church and church yard, their pipers piping, their drummers thundring, their stumps dauncing, their bels jyngling, their handkerchefs swinging about their heds like madmen, their hobbie horses and other monsters skirmishing amongst the route; and in this sorte they go to the church (I say), and into the church (though the minister be at praier, or preaching), dancing and swinging their handkercheifs over their heds in the church, like devils incarnate, with such a confuse noise, that no man can hear his own voice. Then, the foolish people, they looke, they stare, they laugh, they fleer, and mount upon fourmes and pewes, to see these goodly pageants solemnized in this sort. Then, after this, about the church they goe againe and again, and so foorth into the churchyard, where they have commonly their sommer haules, their bowers, arbors, and banqueting houses set up, wherin they feast, banquet and daunce al that day, and (peradventure) all the night too. And thus these terrestriall furies spend the Sabaoth day.
"Once everything is in place, they have their hobby horses, dragons, and other oddities, along with their noisy pipers and thundering drummers, ready to start the devil's dance. Then this group of heathens marches toward the church and churchyard, their pipers playing, their drummers booming, their feet stomping, their bells jingling, their handkerchiefs waving above their heads like crazies, their hobby horses and other creatures jostling among the crowd. They proceed to the church (I say), and even into the church (regardless of whether the minister is praying or preaching), dancing and waving their handkerchiefs overhead inside, like devils incarnate, creating such a chaotic noise that no one can hear their own voice. Then, the foolish people look on, stare, laugh, and jeer, climbing onto benches and pews to watch these grand displays that are celebrated this way. After that, they circle around the church again and again, moving out into the churchyard, where they typically set up their summer tents, bowers, arbors, and banquet halls, where they feast, celebrate, and dance all day, and perhaps all night too. And so, these earthly furies spend the Sabbath day."
"They have, also, certain papers, wherein is painted some babblerie or other, of imagery woork, and these they call My Lord of Misrule's badges: these they give to every one that wil give money for them, to maintaine them in their heathenrie, devilrie, whordome, drunkennes, pride, and what not. And who will not be buxom to them, and give them money for these their devilish cognizances, they are mocked and flouted at not a little. And, so assotted are some, that they not only give them monie, to maintain their abhomination withall, but also weare their badges and cognizances in their hats and caps openly. But let them take heede; for these are the badges, seales, brands, and cognizances of the devil, whereby he knoweth his servants and clyents from the children of God; and so long as they weare them, Sub vexillo diaboli militant contra Dominum et legem suam: they fight under the banner and standerd of the Devil against Christ Jesus, and all his lawes. Another sorte of fantasticall fooles bring to these hel-hounds (the Lord of Mis-rule and his complices) some bread, some good ale, some new cheese, some olde, some custards and fine Cakes; some one thing, some another; but, if they knew that as often as they bring anything to the[Pg 158] maintenance of these execrable pastimes, they offer sacrifice to the devil and Sathanas, they would repent and withdraw their hands, which God graunt they may!"
"They also have some papers with silly drawings or designs, which they call My Lord of Misrule's badges. They give these to anyone willing to pay for them to support their sinful behavior, like their paganism, devilish acts, promiscuity, drunkenness, pride, and more. Those who refuse to comply and give them money for these wicked symbols are ridiculed and mocked quite a bit. Some people are so foolish that they not only give them money to support these abominations but also wear their badges and symbols on their hats and caps openly. But they should be careful; these are the badges, seals, brands, and symbols of the devil, by which he identifies his followers from the children of God. As long as they wear them, Sub vexillo diaboli militant contra Dominum et legem suam: they fight under the banner and standard of the Devil against Christ Jesus and all his laws. Another group of foolish people brings to these hellish creatures (the Lord of Misrule and his followers) some bread, good ale, new cheese, old cheese, custards, and fine cakes; one thing or another. But if they knew that every time they contribute anything to support these terrible pastimes, they offer a sacrifice to the devil and Satan, they would repent and pull back their support, which God grant they might!"
Although Stubbes wrote with exceeding bitterness and party bias, he had some warrant for his diatribe. In the Injunctions of Parkhurst, Bishop of Norwich[71] (1569), he says: "Item, that no person or persons calling themselves lords of misrule in the Christmas tyme, or other vnreuerent persons at any other tyme, presume to come into the church vnreuerently playing their lewd partes, with scoffing, iesting, or rebaldry talke, and, if any such haue alredy offended herein, to present them and their names to the ordinary."
Although Stubbes wrote with a lot of bitterness and party bias, he did have some justification for his critique. In the Injunctions of Parkhurst, Bishop of Norwich[71] (1569), he states: "Additionally, that no individual or group claiming to be lords of misrule during Christmas time, or any other irreverent individuals at any other time, should presume to enter the church while behaving disrespectfully by performing their lewd acts, making jokes, jesting, or using vulgar language, and if anyone has already offended in this way, they should present those individuals and their names to the authorities."
Grindal, Archbishop of York, in his Injunctions (1571) also says: "Item, that the Minister and Churchwardens shall not suffer any lordes of misrule, or sommer lordes or ladies, or any disguised persons or others, in Christmas or ... at rish bearings, or any other times to come vnreuerently into any Church, or Chapell, or Churchyarde, and there daunce ... namely, in the time of diuine service, or of anie sermon." And so say Overton, Bishop of Lichfield (1584); Bancroft, Bishop of London (1601); and Howson, Bishop of Oxford (1619).
Grindal, Archbishop of York, in his Injunctions (1571) also states: "Additionally, the Minister and Churchwardens must not allow any lords of misrule, or summer lords or ladies, or anyone in disguise, or others, to enter any church, chapel, or churchyard disrespectfully during Christmas or ... at risky gatherings, or at any other time, and dance there ... especially during worship or any sermon." This is also echoed by Overton, Bishop of Lichfield (1584); Bancroft, Bishop of London (1601); and Howson, Bishop of Oxford (1619).
Merely to show how general throughout England were these Rulers of Christmas Festivities, I will give one more example, taken from the Records of Norwich, re what happened there at Christ-tide 1440. "John Hadman,[72] a wealthy citizen, made disport with his neighbours and friends, and was crowned King of Christmas. He rode in state through the City, dressed forth in silks and tinsel, and preceded by twelve persons habited as the twelve months of the year. After King Christmas followed Lent, clothed in white garments, trimmed with herring skins, on horseback, the horse being decorated with trappings of oyster shells, being indicative that sadness and a holy time should follow Christmas revelling. In this way they rode through the City, accompanied by numbers in various grotesque dresses, making disport and merriment; some clothed in armour, others, dressed as devils, chased the people, and sorely affrighted the[Pg 159] women and children; others wearing skin dresses, and counterfeiting bears, wolves, lions, and other animals, and endeavouring to imitate the animals they represented, in roaring and raving, alarming the cowardly, and appalling the stoutest hearts."
To show just how widespread these Christmas rulers were across England, I'll provide one more example from the Records of Norwich about what happened there during Christmas in 1440. "John Hadman, [72] a wealthy citizen, celebrated with his neighbors and friends and was crowned King of Christmas. He paraded through the city in style, dressed in silks and glittering fabrics, followed by twelve people dressed as the twelve months of the year. After King Christmas came Lent, dressed in white clothes trimmed with herring skins, riding a horse adorned with decorations made of oyster shells, symbolizing that sadness and a solemn time would follow the festive Christmas celebrations. They rode through the city, joined by a crowd in various funny costumes, creating fun and laughter; some were in armor while others, dressed as devils, chased after people, scaring the women and children; others wore animal skins, pretending to be bears, wolves, lions, and other creatures, trying to imitate the sounds those animals would make, startling the timid and frightening even the bravest."
Naturally, among the pastimes of this festive season dancing was not the least. And it was reckoned as a diversion for staid people. We know how—
Naturally, among the activities of this festive season, dancing was one of the most popular. It was seen as a fun option for serious people. We know how—
The grave Lord Keeper led the braules, The mace and seals are in front of him. |
It was a practice for the bar to dance before the Judges at Lincoln's Inn at Christmas, and in James I.'s time the under barristers were, by decimation, put out of Commons, because they did not dance, as was their wont, according to the ancient custom of the Society.[73] This practice is also mentioned in a book published about 1730, called Round About our Coal Fire, etc. "The dancing and singing of the Benchers in the great Inns of Court at Christmas is, in some sort, founded upon interest, for they hold, as I am informed, some priviledge by dancing about the fire in the middle of their Hall, and singing the song of Round About our Coal Fire." In the prologue to the same book we have the following song:—
It was a tradition for the bar to perform dances before the judges at Lincoln's Inn during Christmas. In the time of James I, the junior barristers were excluded from the House of Commons through a process known as decimation because they didn't dance, as was customary in the society. [73] This practice is also mentioned in a book published around 1730, called Round About our Coal Fire, etc. "The dancing and singing of the Benchers in the grand Inns of Court at Christmas is somewhat based on interest, as they hold, according to my sources, a privilege by dancing around the fire in the center of their Hall and singing the song of Round About our Coal Fire." In the prologue to the same book, we find the following song:—
O you merry, merry Souls, Christmas is coming, We shall have flowing bowls, Dancing, playing music, drumming. Delicate minced pies, To celebrate every virgin, Capon and goose likewise, Strength and a plate of sturgeon. Then, for your Christmas box, Sweet plum cakes and cash, Delicate Holland smocks, Kisses as sweet as honey. Hey for the Christmas Ball, Where we'll have fun, Coupling short and tall, Kate, Dick, Ralph, and Molly. Then to the hop we'll go, Where we'll dance and play, Cuckolds all a-row, Will pay the scraper. Hodge shall dance with Prue, Counting time with kisses, We'll have a jovial crew Of sweet smirking girls. |
We still keep up the custom of dancing at Christ-tide, and no Christmas party is complete without it; but of all the[Pg 160] old tunes, such as Sellinger's Rounds, the one mentioned in the above song, with many others, but one remains to us, and that is peculiar to this season—Sir Roger de Coverly.
We still keep the tradition of dancing during Christmas time, and no holiday party feels complete without it; but of all the[Pg 160] old tunes, like Sellinger's Rounds, the one mentioned in the song above, along with many others, only one stands out for this season—Sir Roger de Coverly.
Notes and Queries, 19th December 1885, gives an account of a very curious dance. "One of the most popular indoor games at Christmas time was, in Derbyshire, that of the 'Cushion Dance,' which was performed at most of the village gatherings and farm-house parties during the Christmas holidays upwards of forty years ago. The following is an account of the dance as it was known amongst the farmer's sons and daughters and the domestics, all of whom were on a pretty fair equality, very different from what prevails in farm-houses of to-day. The dance was performed with boisterous fun, quite unlike the game as played in higher circles, where the conditions and rules of procedure were of a more refined order.
Notes and Queries, December 19, 1885, tells of a very interesting dance. "One of the most popular indoor games during Christmas in Derbyshire was the 'Cushion Dance,' which was done at most village gatherings and farm-house parties throughout the Christmas holidays over forty years ago. Here’s a description of the dance as it was enjoyed by the farmer's sons and daughters as well as the staff, all of whom were treated as equals, which is quite different from the situation in farmhouses today. The dance was filled with lively fun, unlike the version played in more affluent circles, where the conditions and rules were more refined."
"The company were seated round the room, a fiddler occupying a raised seat in a corner. When all were ready, two of the young men left the room, returning presently, one carrying a large square cushion, the other an ordinary drinking horn, china bowl, or silver tankard, according to the possessions of the family. The one carrying the cushion locked the door, putting the key in his pocket. Both gentlemen then went to the fiddler's corner, and, after the cushion-bearer had put a coin in the vessel carried by the other, the fiddler struck up a lively tune, to which the young men began to dance round the room, singing or reciting to the music:—
"The company was seated around the room, with a fiddler in a raised corner. When everyone was ready, two of the young men left the room, then returned shortly after, one carrying a large square cushion and the other holding a drinking horn, china bowl, or silver tankard, depending on what the family owned. The one with the cushion locked the door and put the key in his pocket. Both men then went to the fiddler's corner, and after the cushion-holder placed a coin in the container held by the other, the fiddler started playing a lively tune, to which the young men began dancing around the room, singing or reciting to the music:—
"'Frinkum, frankum is a fine song, An' we will dance it all along; All along and round about Till we find the pretty maid out.' |
"After making the circuit of the room, they halted on reaching the fiddler's corner, and the cushion-bearer, still to the music of the fiddle, sang or recited:—
"After walking around the room, they stopped when they got to the fiddler's corner, and the person carrying the cushions, still to the music of the fiddle, sang or recited:—"
"'Our song it will no further go!'
"'Our song will go no further!'
"The Fiddler—
"The Fiddler"—
"'Pray, kind sir, why say you so?'
"'Please, kind sir, why do you say that?'
"The Cushion-Bearer—
"The Cushion-Bearer—"
"The Fiddler—
"The Fiddler"
"'She must come to, she shall come to, An' I'll make her, whether she will or no!' |
"The cushion-bearer and vessel-holder then proceeded with the dance, going as before round the room, singing 'Frinkum, frankum,' etc., till the cushion-bearer came to the lady of his choice, before whom he paused, placed the cushion on the floor at her feet, and knelt upon it. The vessel-bearer then offered the cup to the lady, who put money in it, and knelt on the cushion in front of the kneeling gentleman. The pair kissed, arose, and the gentleman, first giving the cushion to the lady with a bow, placed himself behind her, taking hold of some portion of her dress. The cup-bearer fell in also, and they danced on to the fiddler's corner, and the ceremony was again gone through as at first, with the substitution of the name of John for Jane, thus:—
"The cushion-bearer and vessel-holder then continued the dance, moving around the room as before, singing 'Frinkum, frankum,' etc., until the cushion-bearer reached the lady he had chosen. He paused, placed the cushion on the floor at her feet, and knelt on it. The vessel-bearer then offered the cup to the lady, who put money in it and knelt on the cushion in front of the kneeling gentleman. The couple kissed, stood up, and the gentleman, after bowing and handing the cushion to the lady, positioned himself behind her, holding onto part of her dress. The cup-bearer joined in as well, and they danced over to the fiddler's corner, repeating the ceremony as before, this time substituting the name John for Jane, thus:—
"The Lady—
"The Lady"—
"'Our song it will no further go!'
"'Our song will go no further!'
"The Fiddler—
The Fiddler
"'Pray, kind Miss, why say you so?'
"'Please, kind Miss, why do you say that?'
"The Lady—
"The Lady"—
"'Because John Sandars won't come to.'
'Because John Sandars isn't coming.'
"The Fiddler—
"The Fiddler"—
"'He must come to, he shall come to, An' I'll make him, whether he will or no.' |
"The dancing then proceeded, and the lady, on reaching her choice (a gentleman, of necessity), placed the cushion at his feet. He put money in the horn and knelt. They kissed and rose, he taking the cushion and his place in front of the lady, heading the next dance round; the lady taking him by the coat tails, the first gentleman behind the lady, with the horn-bearer in the rear. In this way the dance went on till all present, alternately a lady and gentleman, had taken part in the ceremony. The dance concluded with a romp in file round the room, to the quickening music of the fiddler, who, at the close, received the whole of the money collected by the horn-bearer."
The dancing continued, and when the lady chose her partner (a gentleman, of course), she placed the cushion at his feet. He put money in the horn and knelt down. They kissed and stood up, with him taking the cushion and positioning himself in front of the lady to lead the next dance. The lady held onto his coat tails, while the first gentleman followed behind her, with the horn-bearer at the back. This continued until everyone present, alternating between a lady and a gentleman, had participated in the ceremony. The dance ended with a fun run around the room, to the lively music of the fiddler, who, at the end, received all the money collected by the horn-bearer.
Time's Telescope (1824, p. 297) notes that in Cumberland, and in all the great towns in the north of England, about a week before Christmas, what are called Honey fairs were held, in which dancing forms the leading amusement.
Time's Telescope (1824, p. 297) notes that in Cumberland, and in all the major towns in the north of England, about a week before Christmas, events known as Honey fairs were held, with dancing being the main entertainment.
Card-playing, too, was justifiable at Christ-tide. An ordinance for governing the household of the Duke of Clarence in the reign of Edward IV. forbade all games at dice, cards, or other hazard for money "except during the twelve days at Christmas." And, again, in the reign of Henry VII. an Act was passed against unlawful games, which expressly forbids artificers, labourers, servants, or apprentices to play at any such, except at Christmas, and at some of the colleges cards are introduced in the Combination Rooms during the twelve days of Christmas, but never appear there during the remainder of the year.
Card-playing was also acceptable during Christmas time. A rule set for the household of the Duke of Clarence during Edward IV's reign banned all games of dice, cards, or any gambling for money "except during the twelve days at Christmas." Similarly, during Henry VII's reign, a law was enacted against illegal games, which specifically prohibited tradespeople, workers, servants, or apprentices from playing any such games, except at Christmas. At some colleges, cards are played in the Combination Rooms during the twelve days of Christmas, but they never appear there at any other time of the year.
Cards are not much patronised by the present generation, yet dignity is occasionally sunk in a romping round game at Christ-tide. But it is a question as to who knows such games as My Lady Coventry, All Fours, Snip Snap Snorum, Old Maid, Commerce, Put, Pope Joan, Brag, Blind Hookey, Loo, etc., etc., without reference to a manual on the subject.
Cards aren't played much by today’s generation, but sometimes people let their guard down and enjoy a lively game during Christmas. However, it's debatable whether anyone really knows games like My Lady Coventry, All Fours, Snip Snap Snorum, Old Maid, Commerce, Put, Pope Joan, Brag, Blind Hookey, Loo, etc., unless they refer to a guide on the topic.
Timbs[74] gives a very curious custom or game which, he says, is still observed on Old Christmas day in the village of Haxey, in Lincolnshire. It is traditionally said to have[Pg 163] originated from a lady of the De Mowbrays, who, a few years after the Conquest, was riding through Craize Lound, an adjoining hamlet, when the wind blew her riding hood from her head, and so amused her, that she left twelve acres of land to twelve men who ran after the hood, and gave them the strange name of Boggoners; to them, however, the land, with the exception of about a quarter of an acre, has for centuries been lost. The Throwing of the Hood now consists of the villagers of West Woodside and Haxey trying who can get to the nearest public-house in each place, the Hood, which is made of straw covered with leather, about two feet long and nine inches round. The twelve Boggoners are pitched against the multitude, which has been known to exceed two thousand persons from all parts of the neighbourhood; and as soon as a Boggoner touches the hood or catches it the game is won.
Timbs[74] describes a very interesting tradition or game that, according to him, is still celebrated on Old Christmas Day in the village of Haxey, in Lincolnshire. It’s said to have[Pg 163] started with a woman from the De Mowbray family, who, a few years after the Conquest, was riding through Craize Lound, a nearby hamlet, when the wind blew her riding hood off her head. She found it so amusing that she donated twelve acres of land to twelve men who chased after the hood, giving them the unusual title of Boggoners; however, they have lost most of the land over the centuries, keeping just about a quarter of an acre. The Hood Throwing now involves the villagers of West Woodside and Haxey competing to see who can reach the nearest pub in both places with the hood, which is made of straw covered with leather, measuring about two feet long and nine inches in circumference. The twelve Boggoners compete against the crowd, which can sometimes exceed two thousand people from around the area; and as soon as a Boggoner touches or catches the hood, the game is won.
There was another amusement at Christmas, before Mumming and the comparatively modern play of St. George—the Religious plays, the first of which is mentioned by Matthew Paris, who says that Geoffrey, a learned Norman, and Master of the school of the Abbey of Dunstable, composed the play of St. Catharine, which was acted by his scholars in 1110. Fitzstephen, writing later in the same century, remarks that "London, for its theatrical exhibitions has religious plays, either the representations of miracles wrought by holy confessors or the sufferings of martyrs." Then came the Interlude, which was generally founded on a single event, and was of moderate length, but not always, for in the reign of Henry IV. one was exhibited in Smithfield which lasted eight days; but then this began with the creation of the world, and contained the greater part of the Old and New Testament.
There was another entertainment at Christmas, before Mumming and the relatively modern play of St. George—the religious plays, the first of which is mentioned by Matthew Paris, who states that Geoffrey, a learned Norman and Master of the school at the Abbey of Dunstable, created the play of St. Catharine, which was performed by his students in 1110. Fitzstephen, writing later in the same century, notes that "London, for its theatrical shows, has religious plays, either depicting miracles performed by holy confessors or the sufferings of martyrs." Then came the Interlude, which was usually based on a single event and was of moderate length, but not always; during the reign of Henry IV, one was presented in Smithfield that lasted eight days. This began with the creation of the world and included most of the Old and New Testament.
Being originally devised by the clergy to withdraw the minds of the people from the profane and immoral buffooneries to which they were accustomed, ecclesiastics did not hesitate to join in the performance, and even to permit the representation to take place in churches and chapels. Afterwards the ordering and arrangement of them fell into the hands of the gilds, or different trading companies.
Being originally created by the clergy to steer people away from the crude and immoral entertainment they were used to, church officials didn't hesitate to participate in the performances and even allowed them to happen in churches and chapels. Later on, the organization and management of these events shifted to the guilds or various trading companies.
In process of time the rigid religious simplicity of these[Pg 164] performances was broken in upon, and the devil and a circle of infernal associates were introduced to relieve the performance, and to excite laughter by all sorts of strange noises and antics. By and by, abstract personifications, such as Truth, Justice, Mercy, etc., found their way into these plays, and they then became moral plays, or "Moralities." These were in their highest vogue in the reigns of Henries VII. and VIII., and Holinshed tells a story of one played at Christ-tide 1526-27.
Over time, the strict religious simplicity of these[Pg 164] performances was disrupted, and the devil along with a group of infernal companions were added to entertain the audience, creating laughter through all kinds of strange sounds and antics. Eventually, abstract characters like Truth, Justice, and Mercy were incorporated into these plays, transforming them into moral plays, or "Moralities." These were particularly popular during the reigns of Henry VII and VIII, and Holinshed recounts a tale of one performed during Christmas in 1526-27.
"This Christmasse was a goodlie disguising plaied at Graies In, which was compiled for the most part by maister John Roo, sergeant at the law manie yeares past, and long before the cardinall had any authoritie. The effect of the plaie was that lord gouernance was ruled by dissipation and negligence, by whose misgouernance and evill order ladie publike weale was put from gouernance; which caused rumor populi, inwarde grudge and disdaine of wanton souereignetie to rise, with a great multitude, to expell negligence and dissipation, and to restore publike weale againe to hir estate, which was so doone.
"This Christmas, there was a splendid play performed at Gray's Inn, mostly written by Master John Roo, a sergeant at law many years ago, long before the Cardinal held any authority. The play's theme was that Lord Governance was undermined by wastefulness and negligence, which led to Lady Public Welfare being removed from governance; this sparked public outcry, internal resentment, and disdain for irresponsible leadership, prompting a large group of people to rise up against negligence and wastefulness, restoring public welfare to its rightful state, which was successfully accomplished."
"This plaie was so set foorth with riche and costlie apparell, with strange devises of Maskes and morrishes, that it was highlie praised of all men, sauing of the cardinall, which imagined that the play had been devised of him, and in a great furie sent for the said maister Roo, and took from him his coife, and sent him to the Fleet; and after, he sent for the yoong gentlemen that plaied in the plaie, and them highlie rebuked and threatned, and sent one of them, called Thomas Moile, of Kent, to the Fleet; but by means of friends, maister Roo and he were deliuered at last. This plaie sore displeased the cardinall, and yet it was neuer meant to him, as you haue heard. Wherfore manie wise men grudged to see him take it so hartilie, and euer the cardinall said that the king was highlie displeased with it, and spake nothing of himselfe."
"This play was presented with rich and fancy costumes, with strange designs of masks and performances, that it received high praise from everyone, except for the cardinal, who believed that the play had been made for him. In a great fury, he summoned Master Roo, took away his cap, and sent him to the Fleet; later, he called the young gentlemen who acted in the play, scolded and threatened them, and sent one of them, named Thomas Moile from Kent, to the Fleet as well. However, through the help of friends, both Master Roo and he were eventually released. This play greatly upset the cardinal, even though it was never meant for him, as you have heard. Thus, many wise people were annoyed to see him take it so seriously, while the cardinal always claimed that the king was very displeased with it, saying nothing of himself."
J.P. Collier, in his Annals of the Stage (ed. 1879, pp. 68, 69), gives an account of two Interludes played before royalty at Richmond, Christ-tide 1514-15, which he found in a paper folded up in a roll in the Chapter House. "The Interlud was callyd the tryumpe of Love and Bewte, and yt[Pg 165] was wryten and presented by Mayster Cornyshe and oothers of the Chappell of our soverayne lorde the Kynge, and the chyldern of the sayd Chapell. In the same, Venus and Bewte dyd tryumpe over al ther enemys, and tamyd a salvadge man and a lyon, that was made very rare and naturall, so as the Kynge was gretly plesyd therwyth, and gracyously gaf Mayster Cornysshe a ryche rewarde owt of his owne hand, to be dyvyded with the rest of his felows. Venus did synge a songe with Beawte, which was lykyd of al that harde yt, every staffe endyng after this sorte—
J.P. Collier, in his Annals of the Stage (ed. 1879, pp. 68, 69), describes two interludes performed for royalty at Richmond during Christmas 1514-15, which he found in a paper rolled up in the Chapter House. "The interlude was called the Triumph of Love and Beauty, and it was written and presented by Master Cornyshe and others from the Chapel of our sovereign lord the King, along with the children of that Chapel. In it, Venus and Beauty triumphed over all their enemies, taming a wild man and a lion that were made very impressive and lifelike, so the King was greatly pleased with it and graciously gave Master Cornyshe a rich reward from his own hand to be shared with the rest of his colleagues. Venus sang a song with Beauty, which was enjoyed by everyone who heard it, each verse ending like this—
"Bowe you downe, and doo your dutye To Venus and the goddes Bewty: We tryumpe hye over all, Kyngs attend when we doo call. |
"Inglyshe, and the oothers of the Kynges pleyers, after pleyed an Interluyt, whiche was wryten by Mayster Midwell, but yt was so long, yt was not lykyd: yt was of the fyndyng of Troth, who was caryed away by ygnoraunce and ypocresy. The foolys part was the best, but the kyng departyd befor the end to hys chambre."
"English, along with the other king's players, then performed an interlude written by Master Midwell, but it was so long that it wasn't liked. It was about the finding of Truth, who was taken away by ignorance and hypocrisy. The fool's part was the best, but the king left for his chamber before it ended."
Of Christ-tide Masques I have already written, and after they fell into desuetude there was nothing theatrical absolutely peculiar to Christmas until Rich, in 1717, introduced the comic pantomime at his theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields, where, on 26th December of that year, he produced Harlequin Executed. Davies says: "To retrieve the credit of his theatre, Rich created a species of dramatic composition, unknown to this, and I believe to any other country, which he called a pantomime; it consisted of two parts—one serious, and the other comic. By the help of gay scenes, fine habits, grand dances, appropriate music, and other decorations, he exhibited a story from Ovid's Metamorphoses, or some other fabulous writer. Between the pauses, or acts, of this serious, representation he interwove a comic fable; consisting chiefly of the courtship of Harlequin and Columbine, with a variety of surprizing adventures and tricks, which were produced by the magic wand of Harlequin; such as the sudden transformation of palaces and temples to huts and cottages, of men and women into wheelbarrows and joint stools, of trees turned[Pg 166] into houses, colonades to beds of tulips, and mechanics' shops into serpents and ostriches." From 1717 until 1761, the date of his death, he brought out a succession of pantomimes, all of which were eminently successful, and ran at least forty or fifty nights each. That the pantomime, very slightly altered from Rich's first conception, still is attractive, speaks for itself.
Of Christmas Masques, I've already talked about, and after they faded away, there was nothing really theatrical that was unique to Christmas until Rich introduced the comic pantomime at his theater in Lincoln's Inn Fields in 1717. On December 26th of that year, he staged Harlequin Executed. Davies mentions, "To restore the reputation of his theater, Rich created a type of dramatic performance, unknown here and, I believe, in any other country, which he called a pantomime. It consisted of two parts—one serious and the other comic. With vibrant scenes, beautiful costumes, grand dances, suitable music, and other decorations, he showcased a story from Ovid's Metamorphoses or another mythical author. Between the pauses or acts of this serious performance, he wove in a comic tale, mainly revolving around the courtship of Harlequin and Columbine, featuring a variety of surprising adventures and tricks produced by Harlequin's magic wand; such as sudden transformations of palaces and temples into huts and cottages, turning people into wheelbarrows and stools, converting trees into houses, colonnades into beds of tulips, and mechanics' shops into serpents and ostriches." From 1717 until his death in 1761, he introduced a series of pantomimes, all of which were highly successful, running at least forty or fifty nights each. The fact that pantomimes, only slightly altered from Rich's original idea, remain appealing today speaks for itself.
No other style of entertainment for Christ-tide was ever so popular. Garrick tried spectacular drama, and failed. Walpole, writing to Lady Ossory, 30th December 1772, says: "Garrick has brought out what he calls a Christmas tale, adorned with the most beautiful scenes, next to those in the Opera at Paradise, designed by Loutherbourg. They have much ado to save the piece from being sent to the Devil. It is believed to be Garrick's own, and a new proof that it is possible to be the best actor and the worst author in the world, as Shakspeare was just the contrary." Some of us are old enough to remember with delight Planche's extravaganzas, The King of the Peacocks, etc., which were so beautifully put on the stage of the Lyceum Theatre by Madame Vestris, but I do not think they were a financial success, and they have never been repeated by other managers.
No other form of entertainment for Christmas has ever been as popular. Garrick attempted a grand drama but failed. Walpole, writing to Lady Ossory on December 30, 1772, says: "Garrick has presented what he calls a Christmas tale, featuring the most stunning scenes, second only to those in the Opera at Paradise, designed by Loutherbourg. They’re struggling to keep the piece from going down in flames. It is believed to be Garrick's own work, and it’s a new example that it's possible to be the best actor and the worst writer in the world, just as Shakespeare was the opposite." Some of us are old enough to fondly remember Planche's extravaganzas, The King of the Peacocks, etc., which were beautifully showcased on the stage of the Lyceum Theatre by Madame Vestris, but I don't think they were financially successful, and they have never been repeated by other managers.
Up to a very recent date a stock piece at the minor theatres on Boxing Night was the tragedy of The London Merchant; or, The History of George Barnwell, acted at Drury Lane in 1731, which was so successful that the Queen sent for the MS. to read it, and Hone (Every-Day Book, ii. 1651) remarks as a notable circumstance that "the representation of this tragedy was omitted in the Christmas holidays of 1819 at both the theatres for the first time."
Up until very recently, a popular performance at the smaller theaters on Boxing Night was the tragedy of The London Merchant; or, The History of George Barnwell, which was first performed at Drury Lane in 1731. It was so successful that the Queen requested the manuscript to read it, and Hone (Every-Day Book, ii. 1651) notes as a significant point that "the performance of this tragedy was skipped during the Christmas holidays of 1819 at both theaters for the first time."
It was considered a highly moral play, and was acted for the particular benefit of apprentices, to deter them from the crime of theft, and from keeping company with bad women. David Ross, the actor, wrote in 1787 the following letter to a friend:—
It was seen as a very moral play and was performed specifically for the benefit of apprentices, to discourage them from stealing and from associating with bad women. David Ross, the actor, wrote the following letter to a friend in 1787:—
"In the year 1752, during the Christmas holidays, I played George Barnwell, and the late Mrs. Pritchard played Millwood. Doctor Barrowby, physician to St. Bartholomew's Hospital, told me he was sent for by a young gentleman in Great St. Helen's, apprentice to a very capital merchant.[Pg 167] He found him very ill with a slow fever, a heavy hammer pulse, that no medicine could touch. The nurse told him he sighed at times so very heavily that she was sure something lay heavy on his mind. The Doctor sent every one out of the room, and told his patient he was sure there was something that oppressed his mind, and lay so heavy on his spirits, that it would be in vain to order him medicine, unless he would open his mind freely. After much solicitation on the part of the Doctor, the youth confessed there was something lay heavy at his heart; but that he would sooner die than divulge it, as it must be his ruin if it was known. The Doctor assured him, if he would make him his confidant, he would, by every means in his power, serve him, and that his secret, if he desired it, should remain so to all the world, but to those who might be necessary to relieve him.
"In 1752, during the Christmas holidays, I played George Barnwell, and the late Mrs. Pritchard played Millwood. Doctor Barrowby, the physician at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, told me he was called by a young man in Great St. Helen's, who was an apprentice to a prominent merchant.[Pg 167] He found the young man very ill with a slow fever and a heavy, thumping pulse that no medicine could help. The nurse mentioned that he sighed so deeply at times that she was certain something was weighing on his mind. The Doctor asked everyone to leave the room and told his patient that he was sure there was something troubling him, something that was affecting his spirit so much that prescribing medicine would be useless unless he shared what was on his mind. After much encouragement from the Doctor, the young man admitted that there was indeed something weighing on his heart, but he would rather die than reveal it, as doing so would lead to his downfall. The Doctor reassured him that if he confided in him, he would do everything he could to help, and that his secret would remain confidential, except to those needed to help him."
"After much conversation he told the Doctor he was the second son of a gentleman of good fortune in Hertfordshire; that he had made an improper acquaintance with a kept mistress of a captain of an Indiaman then abroad; that he was within a year of being out of his time, and had been intrusted with cash, drafts, and notes, which he had made free with, to the amount of two hundred pounds. That, going two or three nights before to Drury Lane to see Ross and Mrs. Pritchard in their characters of George Barnwell and Milwood, he was so forcibly struck, he had not enjoyed a moment's peace since, and wished to die, to avoid the shame he saw hanging over him. The Doctor asked where his father was? He replied he expected him there every minute, as he was sent for by his master upon his being taken so very ill. The Doctor desired the young man to make himself perfectly easy, as he would undertake his father should make all right; and, to get his patient in a promising way, assured him, if his father made the least hesitation, he should have the money of him.
"After a lot of talking, he told the Doctor that he was the second son of a wealthy gentleman from Hertfordshire; that he had gotten involved with the mistress of a captain of an Indiaman who was currently overseas; that he was almost a year away from finishing his time, and had been entrusted with cash, drafts, and notes, which he had misused to the tune of two hundred pounds. He mentioned that a few nights earlier he had gone to Drury Lane to see Ross and Mrs. Pritchard in their roles as George Barnwell and Milwood, and he was so deeply moved that he hadn’t found a moment’s peace since, wishing to die to escape the shame he felt was looming over him. The Doctor asked where his father was. He replied that he expected him to arrive any minute, as his employer had sent for him because he had fallen very ill. The Doctor reassured the young man to stay calm, saying he would make sure his father would sort everything out; and to help his patient feel better, he promised him that if his father hesitated at all, he would personally give him the money."
"The father soon arrived. The Doctor took him into another room, and after explaining the whole cause of his son's illness, begged him to save the honour of his family and the life of his son. The father, with tears in his eyes, gave him a thousand thanks, said he would step to his banker and bring the money. While the father was gone Dr.[Pg 168] Barrowby went to his patient, and told him everything would be settled in a few minutes to his ease and satisfaction; that his father was gone to his banker for the money, and would soon return with peace and forgiveness, and never mention or even think of it more. What is very extraordinary, the Doctor told me that, in a few minutes after he communicated this news to his patient, upon feeling of his pulse, without the help of any medicine, he was quite another creature. The father returned with notes to the amount of £200, which he put into his son's hands. They wept, kissed, embraced. The son soon recovered, and lived to be a very eminent merchant.
The father soon arrived. The Doctor took him into another room and, after explaining the entire reason for his son's illness, urged him to save his family's honor and his son's life. The father, with tears in his eyes, thanked him profusely and said he would go to his banker to get the money. While the father was away, Dr.[Pg 168] Barrowby went to his patient and told him that everything would be sorted out in just a few minutes for his comfort and satisfaction; that his father was on his way to the bank for the money and would soon return with peace and forgiveness, and would never mention or even think of it again. Interestingly, the Doctor told me that just a few minutes after sharing this news with his patient, upon checking his pulse, he was completely transformed, without any medicine. The father returned with cash totaling £200, which he handed to his son. They cried, kissed, and hugged. The son quickly recovered and went on to become a very successful merchant.
"Dr. Barrowby never told me the name; but the story he mentioned often in the green-room of Drury Lane Theatre; and after telling it one night when I was standing by, he said to me, 'You have done some good in your profession—more, perhaps, than many a clergyman who preached last Sunday,' for the patient told the Doctor the play raised such horror and contrition in his soul that he would, if it would please God to raise a friend to extricate him out of that distress, dedicate, the rest of his life to religion and virtue. Though I never knew his name or saw him, to my knowledge, I had, for nine or ten years, at my benefit a note sealed up, with ten guineas, and these words—'A tribute of gratitude from one who was highly obliged, and saved from ruin, by seeing Mr. Ross's performance of Barnwell.'"
"Dr. Barrowby never told me his name, but he often talked about the story in the green room at Drury Lane Theatre. One night, after sharing it while I was nearby, he said to me, 'You've done some good in your profession—more, maybe, than many clergymen who preached last Sunday.' The patient told the Doctor that the play filled him with such horror and remorse that he vowed, if God would raise up a friend to help him out of that distress, he would dedicate the rest of his life to religion and virtue. Although I never knew his name or saw him, at my benefit for nine or ten years, I kept a sealed note with ten guineas inside and these words—'A tribute of gratitude from one who was highly obliged and saved from ruin by seeing Mr. Ross's performance of Barnwell.'"
If any exception can be taken to Christ-tide in England, it is to the enormous amount of flesh, fowl, etc., consumed. To a sensitive mind, the butchers' shops, gorged with the flesh of fat beeves, or the poulterers, with their hecatombs of turkeys, are repulsive, to say the least. It is the remains of a coarse barbarism, which shows but little signs of dying out. Profusion of food at this season is traditional, and has been handed down from generation to generation. A Christmas dinner must, if possible, be every one's portion, down to the pauper in the workhouse, and even the prisoner in the gaol. Tusser, who, though he could write—
If anyone has a problem with Christmas in England, it’s the huge amount of meat and poultry that gets eaten. For someone sensitive, the butchers' shops overflowing with the meat of fat cows, or the poultry shops filled with mountains of turkeys, are frankly disgusting. It reflects a rough kind of barbarism that doesn’t seem to be fading away. Overindulging in food during this season is a long-standing tradition passed down through generations. A Christmas dinner should, if possible, be available to everyone, even the poor in the workhouse, and even the inmates in jail. Tusser, who, although he could write—
At Christmas we banket, the riche with the poore, Who then (but the miser) but openeth his doore. At Christmas, of Christ, many Carols we sing; And give many gifts, for the joy of that King, |
could also sing of "Christmas husbandly fare"—
could also sing of "Christmas husbandly fare"—
Good husband and huswife, now chiefly be glad, Things handsome to have, as they ought to be had. They both do provide against Christmas do come, To welcome their neighbor, good chere to have some. Good bread and good drinke, a good fier in the hall, Brawne, pudding, and souse, and good mustard withall. Biefe, Mutton, and Porke, shred pies of the best, [Pg 170]Pig, veale, goose, and capon, and Turkey well drest. Cheese, apples, and nuttes, ioly Carols to here, As then, in the countrey, is compted good chere. What cost to good husband is any of this? Good houshold provision, only, it is. Of other, the like I do leave out a meny, That costeth the husband man never a peny. |
But his intention in this provision is not for personal gratification—
But his purpose in this provision isn't for personal satisfaction—
At Christmas, be mery, and thankfull withall, And feast thy poore neighbours, the great with ye small. Yea, al the yere long, to the poore let us give, God's blessing to follow us while we do live. |
This hospitality in the country was made the subject of legislation, for James I. much disliked the flocking of the gentry, etc., to London, as he said in his address to the council of the Star Chamber: "And therefore, as every fish lives in his own place, some in the fresh, some in the salt, some in the mud, so let every one live in his own place—some at Court, some in the city, some in the country; specially at festival times, as Christmas, and Easter, and the rest." Nay, he issued a proclamation ordering the landed gentry to repair to their country seats at Christmas, which is thus noticed in a letter from Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton (21st December 1622): "Diverse Lords and personages of quality have made means to be dispensed withall for going into the country this Christmas, according to the proclamation; but it will not be granted, so that they pack away on all sides for fear of the worst." And Charles I. inherited his father's opinions on this matter, for he also proclaimed that "every nobleman or gentleman, bishop, rector, or curate, unless he be in the service of the Court or Council, shall in forty days depart from the cities of London and Westminster, and resort to their several counties where they usually reside, and there keep their habitations and hospitality."
This hospitality in the countryside became a topic of legislation because James I really didn't like how the gentry and others were flocking to London. As he stated in his address to the council of the Star Chamber: "And just as every fish lives in its own environment—some in fresh water, some in salt, some in mud—let everyone live in their own place: some at Court, some in the city, some in the country; especially during festive times like Christmas, Easter, and others." In fact, he issued a proclamation ordering the landed gentry to return to their country homes at Christmas, which was mentioned in a letter from Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton (21st December 1622): "Several lords and people of quality have tried to get permission to stay in the city this Christmas, as per the proclamation, but it won't be allowed, so they're hurriedly packing up to avoid consequences." Charles I carried on his father's views on this issue, as he also proclaimed that "every nobleman or gentleman, bishop, rector, or curate, unless they are serving the Court or Council, must leave the cities of London and Westminster within forty days and return to their respective counties where they usually live, and there maintain their homes and hospitality."
As to Christmas fare, place must be given, I think, to "The Roast Beef of Old England," which used to be a standing dish on every table—from the "Sir Loin," said to have been knighted by Charles II. when in a merry mood, to the "Baron of Beef," which is, like a "saddle" of mutton, two loins joined together by the backbone. This enormous[Pg 171] dish is not within the range of ordinary mortals; but the Queen always keeps up the custom of having one wherever she may be, at Windsor, or Osborne. Beef may be said to be the staple flesh of England, and is procurable by every one except the very poorest, whilst it is not given to all to obtain the lordly boar's head, which used to be an indispensable adjunct to the Christmas feast. One thing is, that wild boars only exist in England either in zoological gardens or in a few parks—notably Windsor—in a semi-domesticated state. The bringing in the boar's head was conducted with great ceremony, as Holinshed tells us that in 1170, when Henry I. had his son crowned as joint-ruler with himself, "Upon the daie of coronation King Henrie, the father, served his sonne at the table, as server, bringing up the bore's head with trumpets before it, according to the maner."
When it comes to Christmas food, we have to give a nod to "The Roast Beef of Old England," which used to be a staple on every table—from the "Sir Loin," said to have been knighted by Charles II when he was in a good mood, to the "Baron of Beef," which, like a "saddle" of mutton, consists of two loins joined by the backbone. This massive dish isn't something the average person can tackle, but the Queen always keeps the tradition alive, having one wherever she is, whether at Windsor or Osborne. Beef is considered the main meat of England, accessible to everyone except the very poor, while not everyone can indulge in the luxurious boar's head, which used to be essential at Christmas feasts. Importantly, wild boars in England now only exist in zoos or a few parks, especially Windsor, in a semi-domesticated state. The presentation of the boar's head was quite ceremonial, as Holinshed notes that in 1170, when Henry I had his son crowned as co-ruler, "On the day of the coronation, King Henry, the father, served his son at the table, bringing up the boar's head with trumpets before it, according to the custom."
In "Christmasse carolles, newely enprinted at Londō, in the fletestrete at the Sygne of the Sonne, by Wynkyn de Worde. The Yere of our lorde M.D.XXI.," is the following, which, from its being "newely enprinted," must have been older than the date given:—
In "Christmas carols, newly printed in London, in Fleet Street at the Sign of the Sun, by Wynkyn de Worde. The Year of our Lord 1521," is the following, which, since it is "newly printed," must have been older than the date given:—
A carol bringyng in the bores heed. Caput apri differo[75] Praise the Lord. The bores heed in hande bring I, With garlands gay and rosemary. I praye you all synge merely Who are you at the banquet? The bores heed I understande Is the chefe servyce in this lande Loke where euer it be fande[76] Serve with a song. Be gladde lordes bothe more and lasse,[77] For this hath ordeyned our stewarde To chere you all this Christmasse The bores heed with mustarde. The End. |
The custom of ceremoniously introducing the boar's head at Christ-tide was, at one time, of general use among the[Pg 172] nobility, and still obtains at Queen's College, Oxford; and its raison d'être is said to be that at some remote time a student of this College was walking in the neighbouring forest of Shotover (Chateau vert), and whilst reading Aristotle was attacked by a wild boar. Unarmed, he did not know how to defend himself; but as the beast rushed on him with open mouth he rammed the Aristotle down its throat, exclaiming, "Græcum est," which ended the boar's existence. Some little ceremony is still used when it is brought in; the head is decorated, as saith the carol, and it is borne into the hall on the shoulders of two College servants, followed by members of the College and the choir. The carol, which is a modification of the above, is generally sung by a Fellow, assisted by the choir, and the boar's head is solemnly deposited before the Provost, who, after helping those sitting at the high table, sends it round to all the other tables.
The tradition of formally bringing in the boar's head during Christmas time was once common among the[Pg 172] nobility and is still practiced at Queen's College, Oxford. The reason behind it is said to be that long ago, a student from this College was walking in the nearby Shotover forest while reading Aristotle when he was attacked by a wild boar. Unarmed and unsure how to defend himself, he shoved the book down the boar's throat as it lunged at him, exclaiming, "Græcum est," which ended the beast's life. A little ceremony still takes place when it is presented; the head is decorated, as mentioned in the carol, and it's carried into the hall by two College servants, followed by College members and the choir. The modified carol is usually sung by a Fellow, supported by the choir, and the boar's head is solemnly placed in front of the Provost, who helps those at the high table before passing it around to the other tables.
Dr. King, in his Art of Cookery, gives the following recipe for dishing up a boar's head:—
Dr. King, in his Art of Cookery, provides this recipe for serving a boar's head:—
Then 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-spic'd Hippocras the wine, Wassail the bowl with ancient ribbons fine, Porridge with plums, and turkies with the chine. |
Of the boar's head was made brawn, which, when well made, is good indeed; and this was another Christmas dish. Sandys says: "The French do not seem to have been so well acquainted with brawn; 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, 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 stock of fast day viands. The Jews, again, could not believe it was procured from that impure beast, the hog, and included in their list of clean animals."[Pg 173]
Of the boar's head, they made brawn, which, when prepared well, is really tasty; and this was another Christmas dish. Sandys notes: "The French didn’t seem to know much about brawn; when they captured Calais, they found a large quantity that they thought was some kind of delicacy, and they tried every way to cook it. They roasted it, baked it, and boiled it, but it was impossible to prepare with their cooking methods. Eventually, they discovered its value, and 'Ha!' said the monks, 'what a delightful fish!' and they quickly added it to their collection of fast day foods. The Jews, on the other hand, couldn’t believe it came from that unclean animal, the pig, and didn’t include it on their list of clean animals."[Pg 173]
Then there was a dish, "the Christmas pie," which must have been very peculiar, if we can trust Henri Misson, who was in England in the latter end of the seventeenth century. Says he: "Every Family against Christmass makes a famous Pye, which they call Christmass Pye: It is a great Nostrum the composition of this Pasty; it is a most learned Mixture of Neats-tongues, Chicken, Eggs, Sugar, Raisins, Lemon and Orange Peel, various kinds of Spicery, etc." Can this be the pie of which Herrick sang?—
Then there was a dish called "the Christmas pie," which must have been quite unusual, if we can believe Henri Misson, who visited England towards the end of the seventeenth century. He said: "Every family makes a special pie for Christmas, which they call Christmas Pie: The recipe for this pastry is a big deal; it’s a complex mix of beef tongue, chicken, eggs, sugar, raisins, lemon and orange peel, and various spices, etc." Could this be the pie Herrick wrote about?
Come, guard this night the Christmas pie, That the thiefe, though ne'r so slie, With his flesh hooks don't come nie To catch it; From him, who all alone sits there, Having his eyes still in his eare, And a deale of nightly feare, To see it. |
Fletcher, in his poem Christmas Day,[78] thus describes the pie:—
Fletcher, in his poem Christmas Day,[78] describes the pie as follows:—
Christmas? give me my beads; the word implies A plot, by its ingredients, beef and pyes. The cloyster'd steaks, with salt and pepper, lye Like Nunnes with patches in a monastrie. Prophaneness in a conclave? Nay, much more Idolatrie in crust! Babylon's whore Rak'd from the grave, and bak'd by hanches, then Serv'd up in coffins to unholy men: Defil'd with superstition like the Gentiles Of old, that worship'd onions, roots, and lentils. |
The Grub Street Journal of 27th December 1733 has an essay on Christmas Pye; but it is only a political satire, and not worth quoting here. There was once a famous Christmas pie which obtained the following notice in the Newcastle Chronicle, 6th January 1770: "Monday last, was brought from Howick to Berwick, to be shipp'd for London, for sir Hen. Grey, bart., a pie, the contents whereof are as follows: viz. 2 bushels of flour, 20 lbs. of butter, 4 geese, 2 turkies, 2 rabbits, 4 wild ducks, 2 woodcocks, 6 snipes, and 4 partridges,[Pg 174] 2 neats' tongues, 2 curlews, 7 blackbirds, and 6 pigeons; it is supposed a very great curiosity, was made by Mrs. Dorothy Patterson, house keeper at Howick. It was near nine feet in circumference at bottom, weighs about twelve stones, will take two men to present it to table; it is neatly fitted with a case, and four small wheels to facilitate its use to every guest that inclines to partake of its contents at table."
The Grub Street Journal from December 27, 1733, features an essay on Christmas Pye, but it's just a political satire and not worth quoting here. There was once a famous Christmas pie that received the following notice in the Newcastle Chronicle on January 6, 1770: "Last Monday, a pie was brought from Howick to Berwick to be shipped to London for Sir Hen. Grey, bart. The contents are as follows: 2 bushels of flour, 20 lbs. of butter, 4 geese, 2 turkeys, 2 rabbits, 4 wild ducks, 2 woodcocks, 6 snipes, and 4 partridges,[Pg 174] 2 neats' tongues, 2 curlews, 7 blackbirds, and 6 pigeons. It's considered quite a curiosity and was made by Mrs. Dorothy Patterson, housekeeper at Howick. The pie measured nearly nine feet in circumference at the bottom, weighs about twelve stones, and requires two men to carry it to the table. It is neatly fitted with a case and four small wheels to make it easier for any guest who wants to enjoy its contents at the table."
Brand says that in the north of England a goose is always the chief ingredient in the composition of a Christmas pie. Ramsay, in his Elegy on Lucky Wood, tells us that, among other baits by which the good ale-wife drew customers to her house, she never failed to tempt them at Christmas with a Goose pie—
Brand says that in northern England, a goose is always the main ingredient in a Christmas pie. Ramsay, in his Elegy on Lucky Wood, tells us that, among other ways the friendly innkeeper attracted customers to her place, she always made sure to entice them at Christmas with a Goose pie—
Than ay at Yule whene'er we came, A braised Goose Pie; And was na that a good Belly baum? No one can deny. |
A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine (May 1811, p. 423), speaking of Christmas in the North Riding of Yorkshire, says: "On the feast of St. Stephen large goose pies are made, all which they distribute among their needy neighbours, except one, which is carefully laid up, and not tasted till the purification of the Virgin, called Candlemas Day."
A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine (May 1811, p. 423), discussing Christmas in North Riding of Yorkshire, says: "On St. Stephen's Day, they make large goose pies, which they share with their needy neighbors, except for one, which is saved and not eaten until the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin, known as Candlemas Day."
Plum pudding is a comparatively modern dish—not two centuries old; but, nowadays, wherever an Englishman travels—even when engaged in war—be he in any of our colonies, a plum pudding must be had. If an explorer, some loving hand has presented him with one. Were not our soldiers, in the latter part of the Crimean War, bountifully supplied with plum puddings? Was there ever a Christmas on board a man-of-war without one? It is now a national institution, and yet none can tell of its genesis. It has been evolved from that dish of which Misson gives us a description: "They also make a Sort of Soup with Plums, which is not at all inferior to the Pye, which is in their language call'd Plum porridge." We can find no reference to plum pudding in the diaries either of Evelyn or Pepys, and perhaps as early an instance as any of a Christmas plum pudding is in Round about our Coal Fire (1730?): "In Christmas holidays the[Pg 175] tables were all spread from the first to the last; the sirloins of beef, the minced pies, the plum porridge, the capons, geese, turkeys, and plum puddings, were all brought upon the board."
Plum pudding is a relatively modern dish—not quite two centuries old; however, nowadays, wherever an Englishman goes—even when he's at war—he must have plum pudding. If an explorer is out there, some caring person has probably sent him one. Were our soldiers in the latter part of the Crimean War not generously supplied with plum puddings? Was there ever a Christmas on a warship without one? It has become a national tradition, yet no one knows its origins. It has evolved from a dish described by Misson: "They also make a kind of soup with plums, which is just as good as the pie, which they call plum porridge." We can't find any mention of plum pudding in the diaries of either Evelyn or Pepys, and the earliest reference we have to a Christmas plum pudding might be in Round about our Coal Fire (1730?): "During the Christmas holidays the[Pg 175] tables were all laid out from start to finish; the sirloins of beef, the minced pies, the plum porridge, the capons, geese, turkeys, and plum puddings were all served up."
Plum porridge is very frequently mentioned, and Brand gives an instance (vol. i. p. 296, note) of it being eaten in this century. "Memorandum. I dined at the Chaplain's Table at St. James's on Christmas Day 1801, and partook of the first thing served up and eaten on that festival at table, i.e. a tureen full of rich luscious plum porridge. I do not know that the custom is anywhere else retained." "Plum porridge was made of a very strong broth of shin of beef, to which was added crumb of bread, cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, mace, currants, raisins, and dates. It was boiled gently, and then further strengthened with a quart of canary and one of red port; and when served up, a little grape verjuice or juice of orange was popped in as a zest."—Daily Telegraph, 21st January 1890.
Plum porridge comes up quite often, and Brand mentions an example (vol. i. p. 296, note) of it being eaten in this century. "Note: I had dinner at the Chaplain's Table at St. James's on Christmas Day 1801, and enjoyed the first dish served and eaten at that celebration, which was a tureen full of rich, delicious plum porridge. I’m not sure the custom is still kept anywhere else." "Plum porridge was made with a very strong broth from shin of beef, to which crumbed bread, cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, mace, currants, raisins, and dates were added. It was gently boiled and then further enriched with a quart of canary wine and one of red port; and when served, a splash of grape verjuice or orange juice was added for extra flavor."—Daily Telegraph, 21st January 1890.
Plum pudding is a peculiarly English dish, and foreigners, as a rule, do not know how to make it properly, and many are the stories told thereanent. In a leading article in the Daily Telegraph, 21st January 1890, a recipe is given, copied from the Kreuz Zeitung, for making a plum pudding: "The cook is to take dough, beer in the course of fermentation, milk, brandy, whiskey, and gin in equal parts; bread, citronate, large and small raisins in profusion. This must be stirred by the whole family for at least three days, and it is then to be hung up in a linen bag for six weeks 'in order thoroughly to ferment.'"
Plum pudding is a uniquely English dish, and foreigners typically don't know how to make it properly, leading to many stories about it. In a prominent article in the Daily Telegraph on January 21, 1890, a recipe was shared, taken from the Kreuz Zeitung, for preparing a plum pudding: "The cook should take dough, beer that's fermenting, milk, brandy, whiskey, and gin in equal parts; lots of bread, citron, large and small raisins. This mixture must be stirred by the entire family for at least three days, and then it should be hung up in a linen bag for six weeks 'to allow it to ferment completely'."
There is a somewhat amusing story told in vol. i. of Anecdotes and Biographical Sketches by Lady Hawkins, widow of Sir John Hawkins, the friend of Johnson. Dr. Schomberg, of Reading, in the early part of his life spent a Christmas at Paris with some English friends. They were desirous to celebrate the season, in the manner of their own country, by having, as one dish on their table, an English plum pudding; but no cook was found equal to the task of making it. A clergyman of the party had, indeed, a receipt-book, but this did not sufficiently explain the process. Dr. Schomberg, however, supplied all that was wanting by[Pg 176] throwing the recipe into the form of a prescription, and sending it to an apothecary to be made up. To prevent any chance of error, he directed that it should be boiled in a cloth, and sent home in the same cloth. At the specified hour it arrived, borne by the apothecary's assistant, and preceded by the apothecary himself, dressed according to the professional formality of the time, with a sword. Seeing, on his entry into the apartment, instead of signs of sickness, a table well filled, and surrounded by very merry faces, he perceived that he was made a party to a joke that turned on himself, and indignantly laid his hand on his sword; but an invitation to taste his own cookery appeased him, and all was well.
There’s a somewhat funny story in vol. i. of Anecdotes and Biographical Sketches by Lady Hawkins, the widow of Sir John Hawkins, who was a friend of Johnson. Dr. Schomberg, from Reading, spent a Christmas in Paris with some English friends early in his life. They wanted to celebrate the season like they would back home by having an English plum pudding as one of their dishes, but no cook was up to the job of making it. One clergyman in the group had a recipe book, but it didn’t explain the process clearly enough. Dr. Schomberg, however, provided what was needed by[Pg 176] turning the recipe into a kind of prescription and sending it to a pharmacist to prepare. To avoid any mistakes, he instructed that it should be boiled in a cloth and returned to him in the same cloth. At the arranged time, it arrived, carried by the pharmacist’s assistant, with the pharmacist himself leading the way, dressed in the formal attire of the profession, complete with a sword. When he entered the room and saw a well-filled table surrounded by cheerful faces instead of signs of illness, he realized he was part of a joke at his expense and angrily put his hand on his sword. However, an invitation to try his own creation calmed him down, and everything turned out fine.
There is a good plum pudding story told of Lord Macartney when he was on his embassy to China, and wished to give gratification to a distinguished mandarin. He gave instructions to his Chinese chef, and, no doubt, they were carried out most conscientiously, but it came to table in a soup tureen, for my Lord had forgotten all about the cloth.
There’s an amusing story about Lord Macartney from his embassy to China when he wanted to impress a prominent mandarin. He directed his Chinese chef, and they definitely followed his instructions carefully, but it was served in a soup tureen because my Lord totally forgot about the cloth.
I cannot verify the following, nor do I know when it occurred. At Paignton Fair, near Exeter, a plum pudding of vast dimensions was drawn through the town amid great rejoicings. No wonder that a brewer's copper was needed for the boiling, seeing that the pudding contained 400 lbs. of flour, 170 lbs. of beef suet, 140 lbs. of raisins, and 240 eggs. This eight hundred pounder or so required continuous boiling from Saturday morning till the following Tuesday evening. It was finally placed on a car decorated with ribbons and evergreens, drawn through the streets by eight oxen, cut up, and distributed to the poor.
I can’t confirm the details, and I’m not sure when this happened. At Paignton Fair, near Exeter, a huge plum pudding was paraded through the town with a lot of celebration. It’s no surprise that a brewer’s kettle was needed for cooking it up, given that the pudding had 400 pounds of flour, 170 pounds of beef fat, 140 pounds of raisins, and 240 eggs. This massive pudding, weighing around eight hundred pounds, needed to be boiled continuously from Saturday morning until the next Tuesday evening. It was finally placed on a decorated cart, pulled through the streets by eight oxen, sliced up, and given out to the poor.
Every housewife has her own pet recipe for her Christmas pudding, of undoubted antiquity, none being later than that left as a precious legacy by grandmamma. Some housewives put a thimble, a ring, a piece of money, and a button, which will influence the future destinies of the recipients. It is good that every person in the family should take some part in its manufacture, even if only to stir it; and it should be brought to table hoarily sprinkled with powdered sugar, with a fine piece of berried holly stuck in it, and surrounded on all sides by blazing spirits.
Every housewife has her own special recipe for Christmas pudding, which is definitely old-fashioned, with none newer than the cherished one passed down from grandma. Some housewives add a thimble, a ring, a coin, and a button, all of which will affect the future of those who receive them. It's important for everyone in the family to get involved in making it, even if it's just to stir the mixture; and it should be served on the table generously sprinkled with powdered sugar, with a nice sprig of holly stuck in it, and surrounded by flaming spirits.
Mince pie, as we have seen in Ben Jonson's masque, is[Pg 177] one of the daughters of Father Christmas, but the mince pie of his day was not the same as ours; they were made of meat, and were called minched pies, or shrid pies. The meat might be either beef or mutton, but it was chopped fine, and mixed with plums and sugar. It is doubtful whether it was much known before the time of Elizabeth, although Shakespeare knew it well; but with poetic licence he makes it as known at the siege of Troy (Troilus and Cressida, Act i. sc. 2).
Mince pie, as we’ve seen in Ben Jonson's masque, is[Pg 177] one of the daughters of Father Christmas, but the mince pie from his time was not the same as ours; they were made with meat and were called minched pies or shrid pies. The meat could be either beef or mutton, but it was finely chopped and mixed with plums and sugar. It’s unclear whether it was popular before the time of Elizabeth, although Shakespeare was familiar with it; but with poetic license, he makes it as known at the siege of Troy (Troilus and Cressida, Act i. sc. 2).
"Pandarus—Is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality, and such like, the spice and salt that season a man?
"Pandarus—Isn't birth, beauty, good looks, conversation, masculinity, knowledge, kindness, virtue, youth, generosity, and similar qualities the flavor that adds character to a person?"
"Cressida—Ay, a minced man; and then to be baked with no date[79] in the pie,—for then the man's date's out."
"Cressida—Yeah, a chopped-up man; and then to be baked with no date[79] in the pie,—because then the man's time is up."
Gradually the meat was left out, and more sweets introduced, until the product resulted in the modern mince pie, in which, however, some housewives still introduce a little chopped meat. There is no luck for the wight who does not eat a mince pie at Christmas. If he eat one, he is sure of one happy month; but if he wants a happy twelve months, he should eat one on each of the twelve days of Christmas.
Gradually, the meat was phased out, and more sweets were added, until we ended up with the modern mince pie. However, some home cooks still add a bit of chopped meat to theirs. There's no luck for the person who doesn't eat a mince pie at Christmas. If they eat one, they're guaranteed one happy month; but if they want a whole year of happiness, they should eat one on each of the twelve days of Christmas.
There was another form of eating the minced or shrid meat, in the form of a great sausage, called "the hackin," so called from to hack, or chop; and this, by custom, must be boiled before daybreak, or else the cook must pay the penalty of being taken by the arms by two young men, and by them run round the market-place till she is ashamed of her laziness.
There was another way of eating the minced or shredded meat, in the form of a large sausage called "the hackin," named after the word hack, or chop; and according to tradition, it must be boiled before dawn, or else the cook has to face the consequence of being grabbed by two young men and being run around the market square until she feels ashamed of her laziness.
A writer in Notes and Queries (5 ser. x. 514) gives a very peculiar superstition prevalent in Derbyshire: "A neighbour had killed his Christmas pig, and his wife, to show her respect, brought me a goodly plate of what is known as 'pig's fry.' The dish was delivered covered with a snowy cloth, with the strict injunction, 'Don't wash the plate, please!' Having asked why the plate was to be returned unwashed, the reply was made, 'If you wash the plate upon which the fry was brought to you, the pig won't take the salt.'"
A writer in Notes and Queries (5 ser. x. 514) describes a strange superstition common in Derbyshire: "A neighbor had killed his Christmas pig, and his wife, wanting to show her respect, brought me a nice plate of what’s called 'pig's fry.' The dish was delivered covered with a clean cloth, with a strict request, 'Please don’t wash the plate!' When I asked why the plate needed to be returned unwashed, I was told, 'If you wash the plate that the fry was served on, the pig won't accept the salt.'"
A very pretty custom obtained, as we learn by the[Pg 178] records of Evelyn's father's shrievalty. In those days of hospitality, when the hall of the great house was open to the neighbours during Christ-tide, they used to contribute some trifle towards the provisions; a list has been kept of this kindly help on this occasion. Two sides of venison, two half brawns, three pigs, ninety capons, five geese, six turkeys, four rabbits, eight partridges, two pullets, five sugar loaves, half pound nutmegs, one basket of apples and eggs, three baskets of apples, two baskets of pears.
A lovely tradition we learn about from the[Pg 178] records of Evelyn's father's time as sheriff. Back in those days of hospitality, when the grand hall of the big house was open to neighbors during the Christmas season, they would contribute a little something towards the food. A record was kept of this generous support on that occasion. It included two sides of venison, two half brawns, three pigs, ninety capons, five geese, six turkeys, four rabbits, eight partridges, two pullets, five sugar loaves, half a pound of nutmegs, one basket of apples and eggs, three baskets of apples, and two baskets of pears.
At one time the bakers used to make and present to their customers two little images of dough, called Yule doughs, or doos, and it seems probable that these were meant to represent our Lord and His mother. At Alnwick, in Northumberland, a custom existed of giving sweetmeats to children at Christ-tide, called Yule Babies, in commemoration of our Saviour's nativity. There are various other cakes peculiar to this season. At Llantwit Major, Co. Glamorgan, they make "finger cakes"—or cakes in the form of a hand, on the back of which is a little bird; but what its symbolism is I know not. In some parts of Cornwall it is customary for each household to make a batch of currant cakes on Christmas eve. These cakes are made in the ordinary manner, and coloured with a decoction of saffron, as is the custom in those parts. On this occasion the peculiarity of the cakes is, that a small portion of the dough in the centre of the top of each is pulled up, and made into a form which resembles a very small cake on the top of a large one, and this centre-piece is specially called "The Christmas." Each person in the house has his or her special cake, and every one ought to taste a small piece of every other person's cake. Similar cakes are also bestowed on the hangers-on of the establishment, such as laundresses, sempstresses, charwomen, etc.
At one time, bakers used to make and present their customers with two small dough figures, called Yule doughs or doos, which were likely meant to represent our Lord and His mother. In Alnwick, Northumberland, there was a tradition of giving sweets to children during Christmastime, known as Yule Babies, in celebration of our Savior's birth. There are various other cakes unique to this season. In Llantwit Major, Glamorgan, they make "finger cakes"—or cakes shaped like hands, on the back of which is a small bird; but I’m not sure what its meaning is. In some parts of Cornwall, it’s customary for each household to bake a batch of currant cakes on Christmas Eve. These cakes are made in the usual way and colored with a saffron infusion, as is traditional there. On this occasion, the uniqueness of the cakes is that a small portion of the dough in the center of the top of each is pulled up and shaped to look like a tiny cake on top of a larger one, and this centerpiece is specifically called "The Christmas." Each person in the house has their own special cake, and everyone is expected to taste a small piece of everyone else’s cake. Similar cakes are also given to the helpers in the household, like laundresses, seamstresses, charwomen, and so on.
Another correspondent (Wiltshire) of Notes and Queries (6 ser. xii. 496) says: "Can any one tell me the origin of a cake called a cop-a-loaf or cop loaf? It was a piece of paste made in the shape of a box or casket, ornamented at the top with the head of a cock or dragon, with currants for eyes. It was always placed, in my young days, at the bedside on Christmas morning, and, it is scarcely necessary to say, eaten before breakfast. Inside was an apple." Brand says: "In[Pg 179] Yorkshire (Cleveland) the children eat, at the present season, a kind of gingerbread, baked in large and thick cakes, or flat loaves, called Pepper Cakes. They are also usual at the birth of a child. One of these cakes is provided, and a cheese; the latter is on a large platter or dish, and the pepper cake upon it. The cutting of the Christmas cheese is done by the master of the house on Christmas Eve, and is a ceremony not to be lightly omitted. All comers to the house are invited to partake of the pepper cake and Christmas cheese."
Another writer (Wiltshire) of Notes and Queries (6 ser. xii. 496) asks: "Does anyone know the origin of a cake called a cop-a-loaf or cop loaf? It was a piece of dough shaped like a box or casket, decorated on top with the head of a rooster or dragon, with currants for eyes. It was always placed, when I was young, by the bedside on Christmas morning, and, needless to say, eaten before breakfast. Inside was an apple." Brand mentions: "In [Pg 179] Yorkshire (Cleveland), children currently eat a type of gingerbread, baked into large and thick cakes or flat loaves, known as Pepper Cakes. They are also customary at the birth of a child. One of these cakes is provided, along with cheese; the latter is served on a large platter or dish, and the pepper cake is placed on it. The Christmas cheese is cut by the head of the household on Christmas Eve, and it’s a ceremony that should not be missed. Everyone who visits the house is invited to share in the pepper cake and Christmas cheese."
Any notice of Christmas cheer would be incomplete without mention being made of Snap-dragon. It is an old sport, and is alluded to by Shakespeare in Henry IV., part ii. Act ii. sc. 4, where Falstaff says—
Any mention of Christmas cheer wouldn't be complete without talking about Snap-dragon. It's an old game, and Shakespeare referenced it in Henry IV., part ii. Act ii. sc. 4, where Falstaff says—
And drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons.
And drinks from the ends of candles for flap-dragons.
And in Loves Labours Lost, Act v. sc. 1—
And in Loves Labours Lost, Act v. sc. 1—
Thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon.
You are easier to swallow than a flap-dragon.
It is a kind of game, in which brandy is poured over a large dish full of raisins, and then set alight. The object is to snatch the raisins out of the flame and devour them without burning oneself. This can be managed by sharply seizing them, and shutting the mouth at once. It is suggested that the name is derived from the German schnapps, spirit, and drache, dragon.
It’s a sort of game where brandy is poured over a big dish of raisins and then set on fire. The goal is to grab the raisins from the flames and eat them without getting burned. You can do this by quickly snatching them and closing your mouth right away. It's thought that the name comes from the German schnapps, meaning spirit, and drache, meaning dragon.
Bishop Jeremy Taylor very appropriately said that the first Christmas carol was sung by the angels at the Nativity of our Saviour—"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth Peace, Goodwill toward men." No man knows when the custom began of singing carols, or hymns on Christmas day in honour of the Nativity; but there can be no doubt that it was of very ancient date in the English Church, and that it has been an unbroken custom to this day, when the practice is decidedly on the increase, as may be judged from the many collections of ancient carols, and of modern ones as well. It would be impossible for me to give anything like a representative collection of Christmas carols, because of space, but I venture to reproduce a few old ones, and first, perhaps the oldest we have, an Anglo-Norman carol, which is in the British Museum, and with it I give Douce's very free translation. It will be seen by this that all carols were not of a religious kind, but many were songs appropriate to the festive season:—
Bishop Jeremy Taylor aptly noted that the first Christmas carol was sung by the angels at the birth of our Savior—"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and goodwill toward people.." No one really knows when the tradition of singing carols or hymns on Christmas Day to celebrate the Nativity started; however, it's clear that this practice is very old in the English Church, and it remains a consistent tradition to this day, especially as it seems to be growing, evidenced by the numerous collections of both ancient and modern carols. It would be impossible for me to provide a truly representative collection of Christmas carols due to space limitations, but I’ll dare to share a few old ones, beginning with what might be the oldest we have, an Anglo-Norman carol found in the British Museum, along with Douce's very loose translation. This will show that not all carols were religious; many were festive songs fitting for the season:—
Seignors ore entendez a nus, De loinz sumes venuz a wous, Pur quere Noel; Car lun nus dit que en cest hostel Soleit tenir sa feste anuel Here is your justice. Give all your joys and love to everyone. Qi a danz Noel receive honors. Seignors io vus di por veir Ke danz Noel ne uelt aveir No joy: E replein sa maison De payn, de char, e de peison, To honor. Deu doing, etc. Seignors il est crie en lost Qe cil qui despent bien e tost, [Pg 181]E largely; E fet les granz honors sovent Deu li duble quanque il despent To make honor. Deu doing, etc. Seignors escriez les malveis, Car vus nel les troverez jameis From the good side; Botun, batun, ferun groinard, Car tot dis a le quer cunard To do honor. Deu doing, etc. Christmas beyt bein li vin Engleis E li Gascoin e li Franceys E l'Angeuin; Christmas fait beivre son veisin, Si quil se dort, le chief en clin, Sove the day. Deu doint, etc. Seignors io vus di par Christmas, E par li sires de cest hostel, Car gas tank: E io primes beurai le men, E pois apres chescon le soen, By my advice. Si io vus di trestoz Wesseyl Dehaiz eil qui ne dirra Drincheyl. |
Translation.
Translation.
Now, lordings, listen to our ditty, Strangers coming from far away; Let poor minstrels move your pity, Welcome us and ease our worries: In this mansion, as they tell us, Christmas cider stays today; And, as the king of all good fellows, Reigns with uncontrolled power. Lordings, in these realms of pleasure, Santa Claus lives here yearly; Deals out joy with liberal measure, Sadness will pass soon: Numerous guests, and viands dainty, Fill the hall and enhance the table; Mirth and beauty, peace and plenty, Great pleasures available here. Lordings, 'tis said the liberal mind, That gives a lot to those in need, From Heav'n a sure reward shall find; From Heaven, where every blessing comes. Who largely gives with willing hand, Or quickly gives with a willing heart, His fame shall spread throughout the land, His memory will never fade away. Lordings, grant not your protection To an unworthy crew, But cherish, with a kind affection, Men who are loyal, good, and genuine. Chase from your hospitable dwelling Greedy souls that always crave; Virtue they can ne'er excel in, Gluttons can't be brave. Lordings, Christmas loves good drinking. Wines of Gascoigne, France, Anjou English ale that drives out thinking, King of spirits, whether aged or fresh. Every neighbour shares the bowl, Drinks of the strong liquor flow, Drinks his fill without controul, Until he drowns his worries in sleep. And now—by Christmas, jolly soul! By this mansion's kind lord! By the wine, and by the bowl, And all the joy they both bring! Here I'll drink a health to all: The amazing task will be mine first: And ever may foul luck befall Whoever declines to pledge to me. |
The Chorus.
The Chorus.
Hail, Father Christmas! hail to Thee! Honour'd ever shalt thou be! All the sweets that love bestows, Endless pleasures, wait on those Who, like vassals brave and true, Give to Christmas homage due. |
Wynkyn de Worde first printed Christmas carols in 1521, but there were many MS. carols in existence before then. Here is a very pretty one from Mr. Wright's fifteenth-century MS.:—
Wynkyn de Worde first printed Christmas carols in 1521, but there were many manuscript carols around before that. Here’s a really nice one from Mr. Wright's fifteenth-century manuscript:—
To blys God bryng us al and sum.
Christe, redemptor omnium.
To bless God bring us all and some.
Christ, redeemer of all.
In Bedlem, that fayer cyte, Was born a chyld that was so fre, Lord and prince of hey degre, At dawn's first light. Jhesu, for the lowe of the, Chylder wer slayn grett plente In Bedlem, that fayer cyte, From the break of dawn. As the sune schynyth in the glas, So Jhesu of hys moder borne was; Hym to serve God gyffe us grace, O Blessed Trinity. Now is he oure Lord Jhesus; Thus hath he veryly vysyt us; Now to mak mery among us Let the heavens rejoice. |
The next carol I give has always been a popular favourite, and can be traced back to the fourteenth century, when it was called "Joyes Fyve." In Mr. Wright's fifteenth-century MS. it is "Off the Five Joyes of Our Lady." It afterwards became the "Seven Joys of Mary," and has expanded to
The next carol I present has always been a popular favorite and can be traced back to the fourteenth century when it was known as "Joyes Fyve." In Mr. Wright's fifteenth-century manuscript, it's titled "Off the Five Joyes of Our Lady." It later evolved into the "Seven Joys of Mary" and has expanded to
The Twelve Good Joys of Mary.
The Twelve Joys of Mary.
The first good joy our Mary had, It was the joy of One, To see her own Son Jesus To suck on her collarbone. To suck at her breast-bone, good man, Blessed be he, Both the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, For all time. The next good joy our Mary had, It was the joy of Two, To see her own Son Jesus To help the lame walk. To heal the lame, etc. The next good joy our Mary had, It was the joy of Three, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, To see her own Son Jesus To help the blind see. [Pg 183]To help the blind see, etc. The next good joy our Mary had, It was Four's joy, To see her own Son Jesus To read the Bible again. To read, etc. The next good joy our Mary had, It was the joy of Five, To see her own Son Jesus To bring the dead back. To increase, etc. The next good joy our Mary had, It was Six's joy, To see her own Son Jesus To wear the cross. To wear, etc. The next good joy our Mary had, It was the joy of Seven, To see her own Son Jesus To wear the Crown of Heaven. To wear, etc. The next good joy our Mary had, It was the joy of Eight, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, To see our blessed Saviour Turn darkness into light. Turn black, etc. The next good joy our Mary had, It was Nine's pleasure, To see our blessed Saviour Turn water into wine. Turn water, etc. The next good joy our Mary had, It was the joy of Ten, __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__, To see our blessed Saviour Write without a stylus. Write without, etc. The next good joy our Mary had, Eleven was filled with joy, To see our blessed Saviour Show the gates of Heaven. Show the gates, etc. The next good joy our Mary had, It was the joy of Twelve, To see our blessed Saviour Shut the gates of Hell tightly. Close it, etc. |
"On Christmas Day in the Morning" and "God rest You, Merry Gentlemen," are both very old and popular, the latter extremely so; in fact, it is the carol most known. The next example was first printed by the Rev. Arthur Bedford, who wrote many books and published sermons between 1705 and 1743, but his version began somewhat differently:—
"On Christmas Day in the Morning" and "God Rest You, Merry Gentlemen," are both very old and popular, with the latter being extremely so; in fact, it is the most well-known carol. The next example was first printed by Rev. Arthur Bedford, who wrote many books and published sermons between 1705 and 1743, but his version started out a bit differently:—
A Virgin unspotted, the Prophets did tell, Should bring forth a Saviour, as now it befell. |
A Virgin Most Pure.
A Most Pure Virgin.
A Virgin most pure, as the Prophets did tell, Hath brought forth a Baby, as it hath befell, To be our Redeemer from death, hell and Sin, Which Adam's transgression hath wrapped us in. Rejoice and be happy, put sadness aside, [Pg 184]Christ Jesus, our Savior, was born at this time. In Bethlehem, a city in Jewry it was— Where Joseph and Mary together did pass, And there to be taxed, with many ane mo, For Cæsar commanded the same should be so. Celebrate, etc. But when they had entered the city so fair, A number of people so mighty was there, That Joseph and Mary, whose substance was small, Could get in the city no lodging at all. Celebrate, etc. Then they were constrained in a stable to lie, Where oxen and asses they used to tie; Their lodging so simple, they held it no scorn, But against the next morning our Saviour was born. Rejoice, etc. Then God sent an Angel from heaven so high, To certain poor shepherds in fields where they lie, And bid them no longer in sorrow to stay, Because that our Saviour was born on this day. Rejoice, etc. Then presently after, the shepherds did spy A number of Angels appear in the sky, Who joyfully talked, and sweetly did sing, "To God be all Glory, our Heavenly King." Celebrate, etc. Three certain Wise Princes they thought it most meet To lay their rich offerings at our Saviour's feet; So then they consented, and to Bethlehem did go, And when they came thither they found it was so. Celebrate, etc. |
But all Christmas carols were not religious—many of them were of the most festive description; but here is one, temp. Henry VIII., which is a mixture of both:—
But not all Christmas carols were religious—many of them were pretty festive; but here’s one from the time of Henry VIII that’s a mix of both:—
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel, Who is there, that singeth so, Noel, Noel, Noel? I am here, Sir Christhismass, Welcome, my lord Christhismass, Welcome to all, both more and less. Come here, Noel. Dieu vous garde, beau Sire, tidings I you bring, A maid hath born a Child full young, The which causeth for to sing, [Pg 185]Christmas. Christ is now born of a pure maid, In an ox stall He is laid, Wherefore sing we all at a braid,[80] Noel. Buvez bien par toute la compagnie, Make good cheer, and be right merry, And sing with us, now, joyfully, Christmas. |
Of the purely festive carols here is an example of the fifteenth century, from Mr. Wright's MS.:—
Of the purely festive carols, here's an example from the fifteenth century, taken from Mr. Wright's manuscript:—
At the begynnyng of the mete Of a borejs hed You schal hete; And in the mustard You xal wete; And you shall sing, or you can. Wolcom be You that ben here, And You xal have ryth gud chere, And also a ryth gud face; And you shall sing, or you can. Welcum be You everychon, For You xal syngyn ryth anon; Hey You fast that You had don, And you shall sing, or you can. |
The last I give is of the sixteenth century, and is in the British Museum (MS. Cott. Vesp. A. xxv.):—
The last one I mention is from the sixteenth century and is in the British Museum (MS. Cott. Vesp. A. xxv.):—
A Christenmesse Carroll
A Christmas Carol
Good luck, God willing! Sticks in my throat, Without I have a draught, Of corn ale, Nappy and stale, My lyffe lyes in great wanste. Some ale or beer, Gentle butler, Some lycoure thou hus showe, Such as you mash, Our throats to wash The best were that you brew. Saint, master, and knight, That Saint Mault is named, Were prest between two stones; That sweet humor Of his liquor Would make us sing at once. Mr. Wortley, I can confidently say, I tell you as I thinke, Wouldn't, I say, Byd house today, But that we shuld have drink. His guys are so tall Walks up his hallway, With many a comly dishe; Of his good food I can't eat. Without a drink i-wysse. Now give us a drink, And let the cat sleep, I tell you all at once, It hurts so much, I might not sing again, Tyll I have dronken once. |
The presentation of gifts on Christmas day was an English custom of very great antiquity; so great that, in 1419, the practice had become much corrupted, and the abuse had to be sternly repressed. Hence we find the following[81] "Regulation made that the Serjeants and other officers of the Mayor, Sheriffs, or City, shall not beg for Christmas gifts.
The tradition of giving gifts on Christmas Day has been around for a long time; so long that by 1419, it had become quite corrupted, and the misuse had to be strictly controlled. Therefore, we find the following[81] "Regulation stating that the Serjeants and other officers of the Mayor, Sheriffs, or City, are not allowed to ask for Christmas gifts.
"Forasmuch as it is not becoming or agreeable to propriety that those who are in the service of reverend men, and from them, or through them, have the advantage of befitting food and raiment, as also of reward, or remuneration, in a competent degree, should, after a perverse custom, be begging aught of people, like paupers; and seeing that in times past, every year at the feast of our Lord's Nativity (25th December), according to a certain custom, which has grown to be an abuse, the vadlets of the Mayor, the Sheriffs and the Chamber of the said city—persons who have food, raiment, and appropriate advantages, resulting from their office,—under colour of asking for an oblation, have begged many sums of money of brewers, bakers, cooks, and other victuallers; and, in some instances, have, more than once, threatened wrongfully to do them an injury if they should refuse to give them something; and have frequently made promises to others that, in return for a present, they would pass over their unlawful doings in[Pg 187] mute silence; to the great dishonour of their masters, and to the common loss of all the city: therefore, on Wednesday, the last day of April, in the 7th year of King Henry the Fifth, by William Sevenok, the Mayor, and the Aldermen of London, it was ordered and established that no vadlet, or other sergeant of the Mayor, Sheriffs, or City, should in future beg or require of any person, of any rank, degree, or condition whatsoever, any moneys, under colour of an oblation, or in any other way, on pain of losing his office."
"Since it is neither proper nor appropriate for those serving respectable individuals, who benefit from suitable food and clothing, as well as fair pay, to beg from people like the poor; and since, in the past, every year during the feast of our Lord's Nativity (December 25th), it has become a troubling custom for the assistants of the Mayor, the Sheriffs, and the City Council—people who have food, clothing, and suitable benefits from their positions—to beg for money from brewers, bakers, cooks, and other food sellers, under the guise of asking for a donation; and sometimes, they have even wrongfully threatened harm if they didn’t receive something, and frequently made promises to others that, in exchange for a gift, they would ignore their illegal actions in[Pg 187] silence, greatly dishonoring their masters and causing a common loss for the entire city: therefore, on Wednesday, the last day of April, in the 7th year of King Henry the Fifth, it was ordered and established by William Sevenok, the Mayor, and the Aldermen of London, that no assistant or other officer of the Mayor, Sheriffs, or City should in the future beg or demand money from anyone, of any rank, degree, or condition, under the guise of donations or any other means, under penalty of losing their position."
Royalty was not above receiving presents on this day, and as, of course, such presents could not be of small value, it must have been no small tax on the nobility. Pepys (23rd February 1663) remarks: "This day I was told that my Lady Castlemaine hath all the King's Christmas presents, made him by the Peers, given to her, which is a most abominable thing." He records his own Christmas gifts (25th December 1667): "Being a fine, light, moonshine morning, home round the city, and stopped and dropped money at five or six places, which I was the willinger to do, it being Christmas day."
Royalty wasn't above getting gifts on this day, and since those gifts couldn't be of small value, it must have been quite a burden on the nobility. Pepys (23rd February 1663) notes: "Today I heard that my Lady Castlemaine has received all the King's Christmas gifts from the Peers, which is really terrible." He also mentions his own Christmas gifts (25th December 1667): "It was a beautiful, clear, moonlit morning, so I walked around the city and stopped to drop money at five or six places, which I was happy to do since it was Christmas day."
But the prettiest method of distributing Christmas gifts was reserved for comparatively modern times, in the Christmas tree. Anent this wonderful tree there are many speculations, one or two so curious that they deserve mention. It is said of a certain living Professor that he deduces everything from an Indian or Aryan descent; and there is a long and very learned article by Sir George Birdwood, C.S.I., in the Asiatic Quarterly Review (vol. i. pp. 19, 20), who endeavours to trace it to an eastern origin. He says: "Only during the past thirty or forty years has the custom become prevalent in England of employing the Christmas tree as an appropriate decoration, and a most delightful vehicle for showering down gifts upon the young, in connection with domestic and public popular celebrations of the joyous ecclesiastical Festival of the Nativity. It is said to have been introduced among us from Germany, where it is regarded as indigenous, and it is, probably, a survival of some observance connected with the pagan Saturnalia of the winter solstice, to supersede which, the Church, about the fifth century of our era, instituted Christmas day.
But the most beautiful way to give out Christmas gifts was saved for more modern times, in the form of the Christmas tree. There are many theories about this amazing tree, with a few so intriguing that they deserve mention. It’s said that a certain well-known professor believes everything comes from an Indian or Aryan background; there’s also a long and scholarly article by Sir George Birdwood, C.S.I., in the Asiatic Quarterly Review (vol. i. pp. 19, 20), who tries to trace its origins back to the East. He states: "Only in the past thirty or forty years has the custom become common in England to use the Christmas tree as a fitting decoration and a delightful way to shower gifts upon the young during both domestic and public celebrations of the joyous religious Festival of the Nativity. It’s believed to have been brought to us from Germany, where it is considered native, and it likely originates from some practice linked to the pagan Saturnalia of the winter solstice, which the Church sought to replace with Christmas Day around the fifth century of our era."
"It has, indeed, been explained as being derived from the[Pg 188] ancient Egyptian practice of decking houses at the time of the winter solstice with branches of the date palm, the symbol of life triumphant over death, and therefore of perennial life in the renewal of each bounteous year; and the supporters of this suggestion point to the fact that pyramids of green paper, covered all over with wreaths and festoons of flowers, and strings of sweetmeats, and other presents for children, are often substituted in Germany for the Christmas Tree.
"It has indeed been explained as coming from the ancient Egyptian practice of decorating homes during the winter solstice with date palm branches, which symbolize life overcoming death and represent the renewal of life each blessed year. Supporters of this idea highlight that in Germany, pyramids made of green paper, adorned with wreaths and garlands of flowers, as well as strings of treats and other gifts for kids, are often used instead of a Christmas Tree."
"But similar pyramids, together with similar trees, the latter, usually, altogether artificial, and often constructed of the costliest materials, even of gems and gold, are carried about at marriage ceremonies in India, and at many festivals, such as the Hoolee, or annual festival of the vernal equinox. These pyramids represent Mount Meru and the earth; and the trees, the Kalpadruma, or 'Tree of Ages,' and the fragrant Parajita, the tree of every perfect gift, which grew on the slopes of Mount Meru; and, in their enlarged sense, they symbolise the splendour of the outstretched heavens, as of a tree, laden with golden fruit, deep-rooted in the earth. Both pyramids and trees are also phallic emblems of life, individual, terrestrial, and celestial. Therefore, if a relationship exists between the Egyptian practice of decking houses at the winter solstice with branches of the date palm, and the German and English custom of using gift-bearing and brilliantly illuminated evergreen trees, which are, nearly always, firs, as a Christmas decoration, it is most probably due to collateral rather than to direct descent; and this is indicated by the Egyptians having regarded the date palm, not only as an emblem of immortality, but, also, of the starlit firmament."
But similar pyramids, along with similar trees—usually artificial and often made from the most expensive materials, even gems and gold—are taken around during wedding ceremonies in India and at many festivals, such as the Hoolee, the annual festival of the spring equinox. These pyramids represent Mount Meru and the earth, while the trees symbolize the Kalpadruma, or 'Tree of Ages,' and the fragrant Parajita, the tree of every perfect gift that grew on the slopes of Mount Meru. On a broader level, they symbolize the magnificence of the vast heavens, like a tree heavy with golden fruits, deeply rooted in the earth. Both pyramids and trees also serve as phallic symbols of life, both earthly and celestial. Therefore, if there's a connection between the Egyptian tradition of decorating homes with date palm branches during the winter solstice and the German and English custom of using gift-bearing, brightly lit evergreen trees—usually firs—for Christmas decoration, it likely stems from a shared cultural influence rather than a direct lineage. This is suggested by the Egyptians' view of the date palm not only as a symbol of immortality but also of the starry sky.
Others attempt to trace the Christmas tree to the Scandinavian legend of the mystic tree Yggdrasil, which sprang from the centre of Mid-gard, and the summit of As-gard, with branches spreading out over the whole earth, and reaching above the highest heavens, whilst its three great roots go down into the lowest hell.
Others try to connect the Christmas tree to the Scandinavian legend of the mystical tree Yggdrasil, which grew from the center of Midgard and the peak of Asgard, with branches extending across the entire earth and reaching above the highest heavens, while its three great roots reach down into the deepest hell.
A writer in the Cornhill Magazine, December 1886, thus accounts for the candles on the tree—
A writer in the Cornhill Magazine, December 1886, explains the candles on the tree—
"But how came the lights on the Christmas tree?
"But how did the lights get on the Christmas tree?
"In the ninth month of the Jewish year, corresponding nearly to our December, and on the twenty-fifth day, the Jews[Pg 189] celebrated the Feast of the Dedication of their Temple. It had been desecrated on that day by Antiochus; it was rededicated by Judas Maccabeus; and then, according to the Jewish legend, sufficient oil was found in the Temple to last for the seven-branched candlestick for seven days, and it would have taken seven days to prepare new oil. Accordingly, the Jews were wont, on the twenty-fifth of Kislen, in every house, to light a candle, on the next day, two, and so on, till on the seventh and last day of the feast, seven candles twinkled in every house. It is not easy to fix the exact date of the Nativity, but it fell, most probably, on the last day of Kislen, when every Jewish house in Bethlehem and Jerusalem was twinkling with lights. It is worthy of notice that the German name for Christmas is Weihnacht, the Night of Dedication, as though it were associated with this feast. The Greeks also call Christmas the Feast of Lights; and, indeed, this also was a name given to the Dedication Festival, Chanuka, by the Jews."
"In the ninth month of the Jewish year, which is around our December, on the twenty-fifth day, the Jews[Pg 189] celebrated the Feast of the Dedication of their Temple. This day marked the desecration by Antiochus and its rededication by Judas Maccabeus. According to Jewish tradition, enough oil was discovered in the Temple to keep the seven-branched candlestick lit for seven days, and it would have taken seven days to prepare new oil. As a result, on the twenty-fifth of Kislev, Jewish families would light one candle in their home, then two the next day, and so on, until by the seventh and final day of the festival, seven candles shone in every house. It's difficult to pinpoint the exact date of the Nativity, but it likely occurred on the last day of Kislev, when every Jewish home in Bethlehem and Jerusalem was glowing with lights. Interestingly, the German word for Christmas is Weihnacht, which means the Night of Dedication, linking it to this festival. The Greeks also refer to Christmas as the Feast of Lights, a name that was also applied to the Dedication Festival, Chanuka, by the Jews."
That this pretty Christ-tide custom came to us from Germany there can be no doubt, and all the early notices of it show that it was so. Thus the first mention of it that I can find is in Court and Private Life in the Time of Queen Charlotte, being the Journals of Mrs. Papendiek, vol. ii. 158. Speaking of Christ-tide 1789, she says: "This Christmas Mr. Papendiek proposed an illuminated tree, according to the German fashion, but the Blagroves being at home for their fortnight, and the party at Mrs. Roach's for the holidays, I objected to it. Our eldest girl, Charlotte, being only six the 30th of this November, I thought our children too young to be amused at so much expense and trouble."
That this lovely Christmas tradition came to us from Germany is definitely true, and all the early mentions support that. The first reference I can find is in Court and Private Life in the Time of Queen Charlotte, being the Journals of Mrs. Papendiek, vol. ii. 158. Discussing Christmas 1789, she writes: "This Christmas, Mr. Papendiek suggested an illuminated tree, in the German style, but since the Blagroves were home for their two-week break and there was a gathering at Mrs. Roach's for the holidays, I opposed it. Our oldest daughter, Charlotte, was only six on November 30th, and I felt our kids were too young to enjoy such an expense and effort."
A.J. Kempe, Esq., in a footnote to p. 75 of the Losely MSS., edited by him in 1836, says: "We remember a German of the household of the late Queen Caroline making what he termed a Christmas tree for a juvenile party at that festive season. The tree was a branch of some evergreen fastened to a board. Its boughs bent under the weight of gilt oranges, almonds, &c., and under it was a neat model of a farm house, surrounded by figures of animals, &c., and all due accompaniments."
A.J. Kempe, Esq., in a footnote on p. 75 of the Losely MSS., which he edited in 1836, says: "I remember a German from the household of the late Queen Caroline creating what he called a Christmas tree for a kids' party during that festive season. The tree was a branch of some evergreen attached to a board. Its branches sagged under the weight of gold-painted oranges, almonds, etc., and underneath it was a tidy model of a farmhouse, surrounded by figures of animals, etc., and all the usual decorations."
Charles Greville, in his Memoirs, writes thus of Christ-tide[Pg 190] 1829 as celebrated at Panshanger. "The Princess Lieven got up a little fête such as is customary all over Germany. Three trees in great pots were put upon a long table covered with pink linen; each tree was illuminated with three circular tiers of coloured wax candles—blue, green, red, and white. Before each tree was displayed a quantity of toys, gloves, pocket handkerchiefs, work boxes, books, and various articles—presents made to the owner of the tree. It was very pretty. Here it was only for the children; in Germany the custom extends to persons of all ages."
Charles Greville, in his Memoirs, writes about Christmas[Pg 190] 1829 as celebrated at Panshanger. "The Princess Lieven organized a small fête like those held throughout Germany. Three trees in large pots were set on a long table covered with pink linen; each tree was lit with three circular tiers of colorful wax candles—blue, green, red, and white. In front of each tree was a collection of toys, gloves, pocket handkerchiefs, work boxes, books, and various gifts—items meant for the owner of the tree. It was very beautiful. Here, it was only for the children; in Germany, the tradition includes people of all ages."
One more extract, to show about what time it became popular, and I have done. It is from Mary Howitt, an Autobiography (vol. i. 298). "Our practical knowledge of the Christmas tree was gained in this first winter at Heidelberg. Universal as the custom now is, I believe the earliest knowledge which the English public had of it was through Coleridge in his Biographia Literaria. It had, at the time I am writing of—1840—been introduced into Manchester by some of the German merchants established there. Our Queen and Prince Albert likewise celebrated the festival with its beautiful old German customs. Thus the fashion spread, until now even our asylums, schools, and workhouses have, through friends and benefactors, each its Christmas tree."
One more excerpt to show when it became popular, and I’m done. It’s from Mary Howitt, an Autobiography (vol. i. 298). "We first learned about the Christmas tree during that winter in Heidelberg. While it’s a widespread tradition today, I believe the English public first became aware of it through Coleridge in his Biographia Literaria. Back in 1840, when I’m writing about, it had just been introduced in Manchester by some of the German merchants who had settled there. Our Queen and Prince Albert also celebrated the holiday with its lovely old German traditions. That’s how the trend spread, so now even our asylums, schools, and workhouses have their own Christmas trees, thanks to friends and benefactors."
Another pretty Christ-tide custom has also come to us from Germany, that of putting presents into stockings left out for the purpose whilst the children sleep on Christmas eve. St. Nicholas (or Santa Claus, as he is now called), the patron of children, ought to get the credit of it. In America the presents are supposed to be brought by a fabulous personage called Krishkinkle, who is believed to come down the chimney laden with good things for those children whose conduct had been exemplary during the past year; for peccant babies the stocking held a birch rod. Krishkinkle is a corruption of Christ-kindlein or Child Christ.
Another nice Christmas tradition that we got from Germany is putting gifts into stockings left out for this purpose while the kids sleep on Christmas Eve. St. Nicholas (or Santa Claus, as he’s called now), the patron saint of children, should get the credit for it. In America, the gifts are said to be brought by a fictional character called Krishkinkle, believed to come down the chimney filled with goodies for those kids who have behaved well over the past year; for misbehaving kids, the stocking had a birch rod. Krishkinkle is a variation of Christ-kindlein or Child Christ.
There are some very curious tenures of lands and manors connected with Christmas which must not be passed over. I have taken them from Blount's book on the subject, as being the best authority.
There are some really interesting land and manor tenures related to Christmas that shouldn’t be overlooked. I’ve taken them from Blount's book on the subject, as it’s the best source.
Bondby, Lincolnshire.—Sir Edward Botiler, knight, and Ann, his wife, sister and heir of Hugh le Despencer, hold the[Pg 191] manor of Bondby, in the county of Lincoln, by the service of bearing a white rod before our Lord the King on the Feast of Christmas, if the King should be in that county at the said feast.
Bondby, Lincolnshire.—Sir Edward Botiler, knight, and his wife Ann, who is the sister and heir of Hugh le Despencer, hold the [Pg 191] manor of Bondby in Lincolnshire. They are required to carry a white rod in front of our Lord the King on Christmas Day, provided the King is in that county for the celebration.
Bridshall, Staffordshire.—Sir Philip de Somerville, knight, holdeth of his lord, the Earl of Lancaster, the manor of Briddeshalle by these services, that at such time as his lord holdeth his Christmas at Tutbury, the said Sir Philip shall come to Tutbury upon Christmas Even, and shall be lodged in the town of Tutbury, by the marshal of the Earl's house, and upon Christmas Day he himself, or some other knight, his deputy, shall go to the dresser, and shall sew[82] his lord's mess, and then shall he carve the same meat to his said lord, and this service shall he do as well at supper as at dinner, and, when his lord hath eaten, the said Sir Philip shall sit down in the same place where his lord sat, and shall be served at his table by the steward of the Earl's house. And upon St. Stephen's day, when he hath dined, he shall take his leave of his lord and shall kiss him; and all these services to-fore rehearsed, the said Philip hath done by the space of xlviii years, and his ancestors before him, to his lords, Earls of Lancaster.
Bridshall, Staffordshire.—Sir Philip de Somerville, knight, holds the manor of Briddeshalle from his lord, the Earl of Lancaster, by these obligations: when his lord celebrates Christmas at Tutbury, Sir Philip must arrive in Tutbury on Christmas Eve and be housed in the town by the marshal of the Earl's household. On Christmas Day, he or one of his knight deputies must go to the dresser and serve his lord's meal, and then he must carve the same meat for his lord. He must perform this service at both supper and dinner. After his lord has eaten, Sir Philip will sit in the same spot where his lord sat and will be served at his table by the Earl's steward. On St. Stephen's Day, after dining, he will take his leave of his lord and kiss him. Sir Philip has performed all these services for forty-eight years, as did his ancestors before him for the Earls of Lancaster.
Brimington, Derbyshire.—Geoffery, son of William de Brimington, gave, granted, and confirmed to Peter, son of Hugh de Brimington, one toft with the buildings, and three acres of land in the fields there, with twenty pence yearly rent, which he used to receive of Thomas, son of Gilbert de Bosco, with the homages, etc., rendering yearly to him and his heirs a pair of white gloves, of the price of a halfpenny, at Christmas yearly, for all services.
Brimington, Derbyshire.—Geoffery, son of William de Brimington, gave, granted, and confirmed to Peter, son of Hugh de Brimington, a homestead with buildings and three acres of land in the surrounding fields, along with a yearly rent of twenty pence that he used to receive from Thomas, son of Gilbert de Bosco, including all feudal obligations, and requiring that he and his heirs provide a pair of white gloves worth half a penny each Christmas for all services.
Brook House, Yorkshire.—A farm at Langsett, in the parish of Peniston and county of York, pays yearly to Godfrey Bosville, Esqre., a snowball at Midsummer, and a red rose at Christmas.
Brook House, Yorkshire.—A farm in Langsett, in the parish of Peniston and county of York, pays Godfrey Bosville, Esq. a snowball every Midsummer and a red rose every Christmas.
Burge, Derbyshire.—Hugh, son and heir of Philip de Stredley, made fine with the King by two marks for his relief for the Mill of Burge, in the county of Derby, which the said Philip held of the King in capite, by the service of finding one man bearing a heron falcon, every year in season, before the[Pg 192] King, when he should be summoned, and to take for performing the said service, at the cost of the King, two robes at Whitsuntide and Christmas.
Burge, Derbyshire.—Hugh, the son and heir of Philip de Stredley, paid a fine of two marks to the King for his claim to the Mill of Burge, located in Derbyshire, which Philip held directly from the King, by the obligation of providing one man with a heron falcon each year during the season, whenever summoned by the[Pg 192] King, and to receive two robes at Whitsuntide and Christmas for fulfilling this duty at the King's expense.
Greens-Norton, Northamptonshire.—This, so named of the Greens (persons famed in the sixteenth century for their wealth), called before Norton-Dauncy, was held of the King in capite by the service of lifting up their right hands towards the King yearly, on Christmas day, wheresoever the King should then be in England.
Greens Norton, Northamptonshire.—This place, named after the Greens (who were known for their wealth in the sixteenth century), was previously called Norton-Dauncy. It was held directly from the King, with the obligation of raising their right hands toward the King every year on Christmas Day, wherever the King happened to be in England at that time.
Hawarden and Bosele, Cheshire.—The manors of Hawarden and Bosele, with the appurtenances in the county of Cheshire, are held of the King in capite by Robert de Monhault, Earl of Arundel, by being steward of the county of Cheshire, viz. by the service of setting down the first dish before the Earl of Chester at Chester on Christmas day.
Hawarden and Bosele, Cheshire.—The manors of Hawarden and Bosele, along with their associated properties in Cheshire, are held by Robert de Monhault, Earl of Arundel, directly from the King, as the steward of Cheshire. This is specifically due to his duty of presenting the first dish to the Earl of Chester in Chester on Christmas Day.
Hedsor, Bucks.—An estate in this parish, called Lambert Farm, was formerly held under the manor by the service of bringing in the first dish at the lord's table on St. Stephen's day, and presenting him with two hens, a cock, a gallon of ale, and two manchets of white bread; after dinner the lord delivered to the tenant a sparrow hawk and a couple of spaniels, to be kept at his costs and charges for the lord's use.
Hedsor, Bucks.—A property in this parish, known as Lambert Farm, used to be rented from the manor in exchange for bringing the first dish to the lord's table on St. Stephen's Day, along with giving him two hens, a rooster, a gallon of ale, and two loaves of white bread. After dinner, the lord would give the tenant a sparrow hawk and a couple of spaniels, which the tenant had to take care of at his own expense for the lord's benefit.
Hemingston, Suffolk.—Rowland le Sarcere held one hundred and ten acres of land in Hemingston by serjeanty; for which, on Christmas day every year, before our sovereign lord the King of England, he should perform altogether, and at once, a leap, puff up his cheeks, therewith making a sound, and let a crack.
Hemingway, Suffolk.—Rowland le Sarcere owned one hundred and ten acres of land in Hemingston by serjeanty; for which, every Christmas day, in front of our sovereign lord the King of England, he was required to perform a jump, puff up his cheeks, make a sound, and let out a crack.
Levington, Yorkshire.—Adam de Bras, lord of Skelton, gave in marriage with his daughter Isabel, to Henry de Percy, eldest son and heir of Joceline de Lovain (ancestor to the present Duke of Northumberland), the manor of Levington, for which he and his heirs were to repair to Skelton Castle every Christmas day, and lead the lady of that castle from her chamber to the chapel to mass, and thence to her chamber again, and after dining with her, to depart.
Levington, Yorkshire.—Adam de Bras, the lord of Skelton, gave his daughter Isabel in marriage to Henry de Percy, the eldest son and heir of Joceline de Lovain (an ancestor of the current Duke of Northumberland). Along with her, he provided the manor of Levington. In return, Henry and his heirs were expected to visit Skelton Castle every Christmas Day, escort the lady of the castle from her room to the chapel for mass, and then return her to her room. After dining with her, they were to leave.
Redworth, Co. Durham.—In the fourth year of Bishop Skirlawe, 1391, John de Redworth died, seised in his demesne, &c. of two messuages and twenty-six acres of land and meadow, with the appurtenances, in Redworth, held of[Pg 193] the said Lord Bishop in capite by homage and fealty, and the service of four shillings and ten pence a year, to be paid at the Exchequer at Durham, and the rent of one hen and two parts of a hen to be paid at the same Exchequer yearly at Christmas.
Redworth, Co. Durham.—In the fourth year of Bishop Skirlawe, 1391, John de Redworth died, owning two houses and twenty-six acres of land and meadow, along with their rights and privileges, in Redworth. He held these from [Pg 193] the Bishop himself by homage and loyalty, and was required to pay a yearly fee of four shillings and ten pence, which was to be paid at the Exchequer in Durham, as well as the annual rent of one hen and two-thirds of another hen, due at the same Exchequer every Christmas.
Stamford, Lincolnshire.—William, Earl Warren, lord of this town in the time of King John, standing upon the castle walls, saw two bulls fighting for a cow in the Castle Meadow, till all the butchers' dogs pursued one of the bulls (maddened with noise and multitude) clean through the town. This sight so pleased the Earl that he gave the Castle Meadow, where the bulls' duel had begun, for a common to the butchers of the town, after the first grass was mown, on condition that they should find a mad bull the day six weeks before Christmas day, for the continuance of the sport for ever.
Stamford, Lincolnshire.—William, Earl Warren, the lord of this town during King John's reign, stood on the castle walls and watched two bulls fighting over a cow in Castle Meadow, until all the butchers' dogs chased one of the bulls (driven wild by the noise and crowd) right through the town. The sight delighted the Earl so much that he gave the Castle Meadow, where the bulls' fight started, to the butchers of the town for common use, after the first grass was cut, on the condition that they would provide a mad bull six weeks before Christmas each year, to keep the sport going forever.
Thurgarton and Horsepoll, Notts.—The tenants of these manors held their lands by these customs and services. Every native and villein (which were such as we call husbandmen) paid each a cock and a hen, besides a small rent in money, for a toft and one bovate of land, held of the Priory of Thurgarton. These cocks and hens were paid the second day in Christmas, and that day every one, both cottagers and natives, dined in the hall; and those who did not had a white loaf and a flagon of ale, with one mess from the kitchen. And all the reapers in harvest, which were called hallewimen, were to eat in the hall one day in Christmas, or afterwards, at the discretion of the cellarer.
Thurgarton and Horsepoll, Notts.—The tenants of these manors held their lands according to these customs and services. Every freeman and serf (which we now refer to as farmers) each paid a rooster and a hen, along with a small cash rent, for a homestead and one bovate of land, which belonged to the Priory of Thurgarton. These roosters and hens were given on the day after Christmas, and that day everyone, including cottagers and freemen, had dinner in the hall; those who didn’t attend received a white loaf and a jug of ale, along with one dish from the kitchen. All the harvest workers, known as hallewimen, were to be fed in the hall one day during Christmas or later, at the discretion of the cellarer.
There is a curious custom still carried out at Queen's College, Oxford. On the feast of the Circumcision the bursar gives to every member a needle and thread, adding the injunction, "Take this and be thrifty." It is said, I know not with what truth, that it is to commemorate the name of the founder, Robert Egglesfield—by the visible pun, aiguille (needle) and fil (thread).
There’s an interesting tradition still observed at Queen’s College, Oxford. On the feast of the Circumcision, the bursar gives each member a needle and thread, along with the instruction, “Take this and be thrifty.” It’s said, though I’m not sure how true it is, that this commemorates the name of the founder, Robert Egglesfield—by the visual pun, aiguille (needle) and fil (thread).
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CHAPTER 25 Christ-tide Literature—Christmas Cards—Their Origin—Lamplighter's Verses—Watchman's Verses—Christmas Pieces. |
The literature specially designed nowadays for Christmas reading is certainly not of a high order, whether we take books—which are issued at this time by the hundred—or the special numbers of magazines and newspapers, all of which have rubbishing stories with some tag in them relating to Christ-tide. Tales of ghosts, etc., were at one time very fashionable, and even Dickens pandered to this miserable style of writing, not enhancing his reputation thereby.
The literature made for Christmas reading today isn’t really that great, whether we look at the many books released at this time or the special editions of magazines and newspapers, all of which have mediocre stories that somehow relate to Christmas. Stories about ghosts, etc., used to be very popular, and even Dickens catered to this low-quality style of writing, which didn’t really boost his reputation.
Akin in merit to this literature are the mottoes we find in the bon bon crackers, and the verses on Christmas cards, which are on a par with those which adorned the defunct valentine. When first Christmas cards came into vogue they were expensive and comparatively good; now they are simply rubbish, and generally have no allusion either in the design, or doggrel to Christ-tide, to which they owe their existence. Their origin was thoroughly threshed out in Notes and Queries, and I give the correspondence thereon (6th series, v. 155).
Similar to this literature are the slogans we see in the bon bon crackers and the verses on Christmas cards, which are on the same level as those that used to decorate valentine cards. When Christmas cards first became popular, they were pricey and relatively nice; now they are just trash and usually have no connection in either the design or the poorly written verses to Christmas, the occasion that inspired them. Their origin was thoroughly explored in Notes and Queries, and I include the discussion on that (6th series, v. 155).
"Christmas cards were first published and issued from Summerly's Home Treasury Office, 12 Old Bond Street, in the year 1846. The design was drawn by J.C. Horsley, R.A., at the suggestion of Sir Henry Cole, K.C.B., and carried out by De la Rue and Co."
"Christmas cards were first published and issued from Summerly's Home Treasury Office, 12 Old Bond Street, in 1846. The design was created by J.C. Horsley, R.A., at the suggestion of Sir Henry Cole, K.C.B., and produced by De la Rue and Co."
(Ib. 376) "Mr. Platt is somewhat in error in stating that the first Christmas card was carried out by De la Rue and Co. This firm republished it last year (1881) in chromo-lithography, but in 1846 it was produced in outline by lithography, and[Pg 195] coloured by hand by a colourer of that time named Mason, when it could not have been sold for less than a shilling. Last year chromo-lithography enabled it to be produced for two pence. The original publisher was Mr. Joseph Cundall. It may be well to place the design on record. A trellis of rustic work in the Germanesque style divided the card into a centre and two side panels. The sides were filled by representations of the feeding of the hungry and the clothing of the naked; in the central compartment a family party was shown at table—an old man and woman, a maiden and her young man, and several children,—and they were pictured drinking healths in wine. On this ground certain total abstainers have called in question the morality of Mr. Horsley's design."
(Ib. 376) "Mr. Platt is somewhat mistaken in claiming that the first Christmas card was created by De la Rue and Co. This company reissued it last year (1881) using chromo-lithography, but in 1846 it was originally made in outline by lithography and[Pg 195] hand-colored by a colorist of that time named Mason, when it could not have been sold for less than a shilling. Last year, chromo-lithography allowed it to be produced for two pence. The original publisher was Mr. Joseph Cundall. It might be useful to document the design. A trellis of rustic work in the Germanesque style divided the card into a center and two side panels. The sides featured images of feeding the hungry and clothing the naked; in the central section, a family gathering was depicted at a table—an old man and woman, a young woman and her partner, and several children—and they were shown drinking toasting with wine. On this basis, some total abstainers have questioned the morality of Mr. Horsley's design."
The Publishers' Circular, 31st December 1883 (p. 1432), says: "Several years ago, in the Christmas number of The Publishers' Circular, we described the original Christmas card, designed by Mr. J.C. Horsley, R.A., at the suggestion of Sir Henry Cole, and no contradiction was then offered to our theory that this must have been the real and original card. On Thursday, however, Mr. John Leighton, writing under his nom de plume, 'Luke Limner,' comes forward to contest the claim of priority of design, and says: 'Occasional cards of a purely private character have been done years ago, but the Christmas card pure and simple is the growth of our town and our time. It began in 1862, the first attempts being the size of the ordinary gentleman's address card, on which were simply put "A Merry Christmas" and "A Happy New Year"; after that there came to be added robins and holly branches, embossed figures and landscapes. Having made the original designs for these, I have the originals before me now; they were produced by Goodall and Son. Seeing a growing want, and the great sale obtained abroad, this house produced (1868) a "Little Red Riding Hood," a "Hermit and his Cell," and many other subjects in which snow and the robin played a part.' We fail to see how a card issued in 1862 can ante-date the production of 1846, a copy of which is in our possession; and although there is no copyright in an idea, the title to the honour of originating the pretty trifle now so familiar to us seems to rest with Sir Henry Cole."
The Publishers' Circular, December 31, 1883 (p. 1432), states: "A few years ago, in the Christmas edition of The Publishers' Circular, we talked about the original Christmas card, designed by Mr. J.C. Horsley, R.A., at the suggestion of Sir Henry Cole, and no one disputed our claim that this was the actual original card. However, on Thursday, Mr. John Leighton, writing under his pen name 'Luke Limner,' has come forward to challenge the priority of design and says: 'Occasional cards of a purely private nature have been created many years ago, but the straightforward Christmas card is a product of our town and our time. It started in 1862, with the first attempts being the size of a standard gentleman's address card, simply saying "A Merry Christmas" and "A Happy New Year"; after that, robins and holly branches, embossed figures, and landscapes were added. I created the original designs for these, and I have the originals in front of me now; they were made by Goodall and Son. Seeing a growing demand and the great sales abroad, this company produced (1868) a "Little Red Riding Hood," a "Hermit and his Cell," and many other subjects where snow and the robin were included.' We don’t see how a card from 1862 can predate the one from 1846, a copy of which we have in our possession; and while there’s no copyright on an idea, the claim to the honor of creating this charming little item we know so well seems to belong to Sir Henry Cole."
The Times of 2nd January 1884 has the following letter:[Pg 196]—
The Times of January 2, 1884 has the following letter:[Pg 196]—
"Sir—The writer of the article on Christmas Cards in The Times of December 25th is quite right in his assertion. The first Christmas card ever published was issued by me in the usual way, in the year 1846, at the office of Felix Summerly's Home Treasury, at 12 Old Bond Street. Mr. Henry Cole (afterwards Sir Henry) originated the idea. The drawing was made by J.C. Horsley, R.A.; it was printed in lithography by Mr. Jobbins of Warwick Court, Holborn, and coloured by hand. Many copies were sold, but possibly not more than 1000. It was of the usual size of a lady's card. Those my friend Luke Limner speaks of were not brought out, as he says, till many years after.—Joseph Cundall."
"Sir—The author of the article on Christmas Cards in The Times from December 25th is correct in his claim. The first Christmas card ever published was done by me in the usual manner, in 1846, at the office of Felix Summerly's Home Treasury, located at 12 Old Bond Street. Mr. Henry Cole (later Sir Henry) came up with the idea. The drawing was created by J.C. Horsley, R.A.; it was printed using lithography by Mr. Jobbins of Warwick Court, Holborn, and colored by hand. Many copies were sold, but likely not more than 1000. It was the typical size of a lady's card. Those that my friend Luke Limner mentions weren't released, as he claims, until many years later.—Joseph Cundall."
As works of art—compared with the majority of Christmas cards, which are mostly "made in Germany"—the card almanacs presented by tradesmen to their customers are generally of a very superior character.
As works of art—compared to most Christmas cards, which are mostly "made in Germany"—the card almanacs given by tradesmen to their customers are usually of much higher quality.
In the old days, when there were oil lamps in the streets, the lamplighter, like the bellman and the watchman, used annually at Christmas to leave some verses at every house to remind its occupier that Boxing day drew nigh. One example will suffice, and its date is 1758:—
In the past, when oil lamps lit the streets, the lamplighter, just like the bellman and the watchman, used to leave some verses at each house every Christmas to remind the residents that Boxing Day was approaching. One example will suffice, dated 1758:—
The Lamplighter's Poem:
The Lamplighter's Poem:
Humbly Presented to all His worthy Masters and Mistresses.
Humbly presented to all his esteemed masters and mistresses.
Compos'd by a Lamplighter.
Written by a Lamplighter.
Revolving Time another Glass has run, Since I, last year, this Annual Task begun, And Christmas now beginning to appear (Which never comes, you know, but once a year), I have presum'd to bring my Mite once more, Which, tho' it be but small, is all my Store; And I don't doubt you'll take it in good Part, As 'tis the Tribute of a grateful Heart. Brave Prussia's king, that genuine Protestant prince, For Valour Fam'd, endow'd with Martial Sense; Against three mighty Potentates did stand, Who would have plundered him of all his Land: But God, who knew his Cause was Just and Right, Gave him such Courage and Success in Fight: Born to oppose the Pope's malignant clan, [Pg 197]He'll do whatever Prince or Hero can; Retrieve that martial Fame by Britons lost, And prove that Faith which graceless Christians boast. O! make his Cause, ye Powers above! your Care; Let Guilt shrink back, and Innocence appear. However, now that I have completed my duties with State Affairs, And to the Business of my Lamps must run; When Sun and Moon from you do hide their Head, Your busy Streets with artful Lights are spread, And gives you Light with great indulgent Care, Makes the dark Night like the bright Day appear; Then we poor useful Mortals nimbly run To light your Lamps before the Day is gone: With strictest Care, we to each Lamp give Fire, The longest Night to burn: you do require Of us to make each Lamp to burn that time, But, oft, we do fall short of that Design: Sometimes a Lamp goes out at Master's Door, This happens once which ne'er did so before: The Lamp-man's blamed, and ask'd the reason why That should go out, and others burning by? Kind, worthy Sirs, if I may be so bold, A truer Tale to you was never told; We trim, we give each Lamp their Oil alike, Yet some goes out, while others keep alight: Why they do so, to you we can't explain, It ne'er did sink into our shallow Brain: Nor have we heard that any one could tell, That secret Place where Life of Fire does dwell, Such various Motions in it we do find, And a hard Task with it to please Mankind. Now, our kind Master, who is the Contractor, If a Complaint he hears of Lamps amiss, With strictest Care the Streets looks round about, And views the Lamps, takes Notice which are out; Then, in great Fury, he to us replies, Such Lamps were out, why have I all this Noise? Go fetch those Burners all down here to me, That where the Fault is I may plainly see: Then straight he views them, with Remains of Oil, Crys, ah! I thought you did these Lamps beguile; But now the thing I do more plainly see, The Burning Oil is a great Mystery: Then come, my Boys, to work, make no delay, Keep from Complaints, if possible you may; Clean well each Glass, I'll spare for no Expence [Pg 198]Where I contract, to please th' Inhabitants. Since time keeps moving quickly and life is just a fleeting moment, 'Tis now high time that I conclude my Paper, And, if my Verses have the Luck to Please, My Mind will be exceedingly at ease; But, if this shouldn't Please, I know what will, And that's with Diligence to serve you still. Finis. |
Hone, in his Every-Day Book (vol. i. p. 1627), gives, date 1823:—
Hone, in his Every-Day Book (vol. i. p. 1627), gives, date 1823:—
A Copy of Christmas Verses,
A Copy of Christmas Poems,
presented to the
given to the
Inhabitants of Bungay
Bungay Residents
By their Humble Servants, the late Watchmen,
By their humble servants, the late night watchmen,
John Pye and John Tye.
John Pye and John Tye.
Your pardon, Gentles, while we thus implore, In strains not less awakening than of yore, Those smiles we deem our best reward to catch, And, for the which, we've long been on the Watch; Well pleas'd if we that recompence obtain, Which we have ta'en so many steps to gain. Think of the perils in our calling past, The chilling coldness of the midnight blast, The beating rain, the swiftly-driving snow, The various ills that we must undergo, Who roam, the glow-worms of the human race, The living Jack-a-Lanthorns of the place. Some say, perhaps to mock our hard work, That we are prone to "waste the midnight oil!" And that a task thus idle to pursue Would be an idle waste of money, too! How hard that we the dark designs should rue Of those who'd fain make light of all we do! But such the fate which oft doth merit greet, And which now drives us fairly off our beat! Thus it appears from this, our dismal plight, That some love darkness rather than the light. From now on, let chaos and disorder take over, With all the ills that follow in their train; Let Toms Shoes and Jerrys unmolested brawl (No Charlies have they now to floor withal). And "rogues and vagabonds" infest the Town, Far cheaper 'tis to save than crack a crown. [Pg 199]We now shift our focus to brighter scenes— And, first, fair Ladies, let us turn to you. May each New Year's new joys, new pleasures bring, And Life for you be one delightful spring! No summer's sun annoy with fev'rish rays, No winter chill the evening of your days! To you, esteemed gentlemen, we now offer our tribute: May smiles and sunshine greet you on your way! If married, calm and peaceful be your lives; If single, may you, forthwith, get you wives! So, whether you're Male or Female, Old or Young Or Wed, or Single, be this burden sung: Long may you live to hear, and we to call, "A Happy Christmas and New Year to all." |
The present generation has never seen, and probably never heard of, "Christmas pieces," or specimens of handwriting, which went out of vogue fifty years ago. It was very useful, as the boy took great pride in its writing, and parents could judge of their children's proficiency in penmanship. Sometimes these sheets were surrounded with elaborate flourishings of birds, pens, scrolls, etc., such as the writing-master of the last century delighted in; others were headed with copper-plate engravings, sometimes coloured. Here are a few of the subjects: Ruth and Boaz, Measuring the Temple (Ezekiel), Philip Baptising the Eunuch, The Good Samaritan, Joshua's Command, John the Baptist Preaching in the Wilderness, The Seven Wonders of the World, King William III., St. Paul's Shipwreck, etc., etc.
The current generation has likely never seen, and probably hasn't even heard of, "Christmas pieces" or examples of handwriting that went out of style fifty years ago. These were very useful, as boys took great pride in their writing, and parents could assess their children's penmanship skills. Sometimes these sheets were surrounded by intricate designs featuring birds, pens, scrolls, and so on, which were popular with writing masters of the last century; others had copper-plate engravings, occasionally colored. Here are some of the subjects: Ruth and Boaz, Measuring the Temple (Ezekiel), Philip Baptizing the Eunuch, The Good Samaritan, Joshua's Command, John the Baptist Preaching in the Wilderness, The Seven Wonders of the World, King William III, St. Paul's Shipwreck, etc.
A publisher, writing to Notes and Queries in 1871 (4 series, vi. 462) about these "Christmas Pieces," says: "As a youngster, some thirty years ago, in my father's establishment, the sale of 'school pieces,' or 'Christmas pieces,' as they were called, was very large. My father published some thirty different subjects (a new one every year, one of the old ones being let go out of print). There were also three other publishers of them. The order to print used to average about 500 of each kind, but double of the Life of our Saviour. Most of the subjects were those of the Old Testament. I only recollect four subjects not sacred. Printing at home, we generally commenced the printing in August from the copper-plates, as they had to be coloured by hand. They sold, retail, at sixpence each, and we used to supply them to[Pg 200] the trade at thirty shillings per gross, and to schools at three shillings and sixpence per dozen, or two dozen for six shillings and sixpence. Charity boys were large purchasers of these pieces, and at Christmas time used to take them round their parish to show, and, at the same time, solicit a trifle. The sale never began before October in the country, and December in London; and early in January the stock left used to be put by until the following season. It is over fifteen years since any were printed by my firm, and the last new one I find was done in lithography."
A publisher, writing to Notes and Queries in 1871 (4 series, vi. 462) about these "Christmas Pieces," says: "As a kid, about thirty years ago, in my dad's shop, we sold a lot of 'school pieces,' or 'Christmas pieces,' as they were called. My dad published around thirty different titles (one new title each year, while one of the old ones would go out of print). There were also three other publishers producing them. The average print order was about 500 of each type, but double for the Life of our Saviour. Most of the topics were from the Old Testament. I can only remember four topics that weren't religious. Printing at home, we usually started the printing in August from the copper plates, since they needed to be hand-colored. They sold for sixpence each at retail, and we supplied them to[Pg 200] the trade at thirty shillings per gross, and to schools at three shillings and sixpence per dozen, or two dozen for six shillings and sixpence. Charity boys were big buyers of these pieces, and during Christmas time, they would take them around their parish to show and, at the same time, ask for a little donation. The sale didn't start before October in the countryside, and December in London; and by early January, the leftover stock would be set aside for the next season. It's been over fifteen years since my firm has printed any, and the last new one I found was made using lithography."
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CHAPTER 26 Carol for St. Stephen's Day—Boxing Day—Origin of Custom—Early Examples—The Box—Bleeding Horses—Festivity on this Day—Charity at Bampton—Hunting the Wren in Ireland—Song of the Wren Boys. |
On the day succeeding Christmas day the Church commemorates the death of the proto-martyr Stephen, and in honour of this festival the following carol is sung:—
On the day after Christmas, the Church remembers the death of the first martyr, Stephen, and in celebration of this holiday, the following carol is sung:—
In friendly Love and Unity, For goodness' sake, Let us all, this blessed Day, To Heaven our prayers go: That we with him the Cross of Christ May take on freely. And Jesus will send you his blessing. Those accursed Infidels That got him killed, Could not by their cruelties Keep him away from his Faith, In such a godly Martyrdom We all seek the Path. And Jesus, etc. And whilst we sit here banqueting, Of treats having plenty, Let us not forgetful be To support the poor; And give what is convenient To those who ask at the door. And Jesus, etc. For God hath made you Stewards here, On Earth to live; He that gathereth for himself, And won't use it properly, Lives far worse than Dives did, That burns now in Hell. And Jesus, etc. And, now, in Love and Charity, Check out your table laid out, That I may taste of your good Cheer, Your Christmas Ale and Bread: Then I may say that I full well For this, my Carol, hurried. And Jesus, etc. For Bounty is a blessed Gift, The Lord above sends it, And he that gives it from His Hands, Deserves many friends: I see it on my Master's Board, And so my Carol concludes. Jesus, etc. |
But St. Stephen's day is much better known in England as "Boxing Day," from the kindly custom of recognising[Pg 202] little services rendered during the year by giving a Christmas box—a custom which, of course, is liable to abuse, and especially when, as in many instances, it is regarded as a right, in which case it loses its pleasant significance. No one knows how old this custom is, nor its origin. Hutchinson, in his History of Northumberland (vol. ii. p. 20), says: "The Paganalia of the Romans, instituted by Servius Tullius, were celebrated in the beginning of the year; an altar was erected in each village, where all persons gave money." There is a somewhat whimsical account of its origin in the first attempt at Notes and Queries, The Athenian Oracle, by John Dunton (1703, vol. i. 360).
But St. Stephen's Day is much better known in England as "Boxing Day," from the friendly tradition of acknowledging[Pg 202] small services provided throughout the year by giving a Christmas box—a tradition that can definitely be misused, especially when it’s seen as an entitlement, which takes away its enjoyable meaning. No one knows how old this custom is or where it originated. Hutchinson, in his History of Northumberland (vol. ii. p. 20), states: "The Paganalia of the Romans, established by Servius Tullius, were celebrated at the beginning of the year; an altar was set up in each village, where everyone contributed money." There’s a somewhat amusing story about its origin in the first attempt at Notes and Queries, The Athenian Oracle, by John Dunton (1703, vol. i. 360).
"Q. From whence comes the custom of gathering of Christmas Box Money? And how long since?
"Q. Where does the tradition of collecting Christmas Box Money come from? And how long has it been around?
"A. It is as Ancient as the word Mass, which the Romish Priests invented from the Latin word Mitto, to send, by putting People in Mind to send Gifts, Offerings, Oblations, to have Masses said for everything almost, that a Ship goes not out to the Indies, but the Priest have a Box in that Ship, under the Protection of some Saint. And for Masses, as they Cant, to be said for them to that Saint, etc., the Poor People must put something into the Priest's Box, which is not to be Opened till the Ship Return. Thus the Mass at that time was called Christ's Mass, and the Box, Christ's Mass Box, or Money gathered against that time, that Masses might be made by the Priests to the Saints, to forgive the People the Debaucheries of that time; and from this, Servants had the Liberty to get Box-money, because they might be able to pay the Priest for his Masses, because No Penny, No Paternoster."
"A. It’s as ancient as the word Mass, which the Catholic priests created from the Latin word Mitto, meaning to send, by reminding people to send gifts and offerings, asking for Masses to be said for almost everything. Whenever a ship headed out to the Indies, the priest had a box on that ship, protected by some saint. For Masses, as they sang, to be said to that saint, the poor people needed to put something into the priest's box, which wouldn’t be opened until the ship returned. At that time, the Mass was called Christ’s Mass, and the box was known as the Christ’s Mass Box, or the money collected for that occasion, so that the priests could say Masses for the saints to forgive the people for their misdeeds. Because of this, servants had the right to collect box money so they could pay the priest for his Masses, since No Penny, No Paternoster."
At all events, the Christmas box was a well-known institution in the early seventeenth century. We have already seen Pepys "dropping money" here and there at Christ-tide, and on 28th December 1668 he notes: "Called up by drums and trumpets; these things and boxes having cost me much money this Christmas already, and will do more." Yet the custom must have been much older, for in the accounts of Dame Agnes Merett, Cellaress of Syon Monastery, at Isleworth, in 29 Henry VIII., 1537-38 (Record Office Roll, T.G. 18,232), the following are entered[Pg 203] among the Foreigne Paymentes: "Reward to the servauntes at Crystemas, with their aprons xxs. Reward to the Clerk of the Kechyn, xiijs. iiijd. Reward to the Baily of the Husbandry, vis. viijd. Reward to the Keeper of the Covent Garden, vis. viijd."
At any rate, the Christmas box was a well-known tradition in the early seventeenth century. We've already seen Pepys "dropping money" here and there during Christmas time, and on December 28, 1668, he notes: "Called up by drums and trumpets; these things and boxes have already cost me a lot this Christmas, and will cost me more." However, this custom must have been much older, as seen in the records of Dame Agnes Merett, Cellaress of Syon Monastery at Isleworth, during 29 Henry VIII., 1537-38 (Record Office Roll, T.G. 18,232), where the following entries appear[Pg 203] among the Foreigne Paymentes: "Reward to the servants at Christmas, with their aprons 20 shillings. Reward to the Clerk of the Kitchen, 13 shillings 4 pence. Reward to the Bailiff of the Husbandry, 6 shillings 8 pence. Reward to the Keeper of the Covent Garden, 6 shillings 8 pence."
As time went on we find increasing notices of Christmas boxes. In Beaumont and Fletcher's Wit without Money (Act ii. sc. 2) "A Widow is a Christmas box that sweeps all."
As time went on, we see more mentions of Christmas boxes. In Beaumont and Fletcher's Wit without Money (Act ii. sc. 2), "A Widow is a Christmas box that sweeps all."
Swift, in his Journal to Stella, mentions them several times. 26th December 1710: "By the Lord Harry, I shall be undone here with Christmas boxes. The rogues at the Coffee-house have raised their tax, every one giving a crown, and I gave mine for shame, besides a great many half-crowns to great men's porters," etc.
Swift, in his Journal to Stella, mentions them several times. 26th December 1710: "By Lord Harry, I'm going to be broke with all these Christmas gifts. The tricksters at the coffeehouse raised their fees, and everyone is giving a crown, so I gave mine out of embarrassment, along with a bunch of half-crowns to the porters of the important people," etc.
24th December 1711: "I gave Patrick half a crown for his Christmas box, on condition he would be good; and he came home drunk at midnight."
24th December 1711: "I gave Patrick a two-and-a-half shilling gift for Christmas, on the condition that he would behave well; and he came home drunk at midnight."
2nd January 1712: "I see nothing here like Christmas, excepting brawn and mince pies in places where I dine, and giving away my half crowns like farthings to great men's porters and butlers."
2nd January 1712: "I don’t see anything here that feels like Christmas, except for brawn and mince pies at the places I eat, and handing out my half crowns like they’re coins worth a penny to the porters and butlers of important people."
Gay, in his Trivia, thus mentions it:—
Gay, in his Trivia, mentions it like this:—
Some boys are rich by birth beyond all wants, Belov'd by uncles, and kind, good, old aunts; When Time comes round, a Christmas Box they bear, And one day makes them rich for all the year. |
But the Christmas box was an entity, and tangible; it was a saving's box made of earthenware, which must be broken before the cash could be extracted, as can be proved by several quotations, and the gift took its name from the receptacle for it.
But the Christmas box was a real thing, something you could hold; it was a savings box made of clay that had to be broken to get to the cash inside, as shown by various quotes, and the gift got its name from the container it came in.
In Mason's Handful of Essaies 1621: "Like a swine, he never doth good till his death; as an apprentice's box of earth, apt he is to take all, but to restore none till hee be broken."
In Mason's Handful of Essaies 1621: "Like a pig, he never does any good until he dies; like an apprentice's box of dirt, he’s quick to take everything, but he doesn’t give anything back until he’s broken."
In the frontispiece to Blaxton's English Usurer, 1634, the same simile is used:—
In the frontispiece to Blaxton's English Usurer, 1634, the same simile is used:—
Both with the Christmas Boxe may well comply, It nothing yields till broke; they till they die. |
And again, in Browne's Map of the Microcosme, 1642, speaking of a covetous man, he says, he "doth exceed in receiving, but is very deficient in giving; like the Christmas earthen Boxes of apprentices, apt to take in money, but he restores none till hee be broken, like a potter's vessell, into many shares."
And again, in Browne's Map of the Microcosme, 1642, when talking about a greedy person, he says he "is great at taking in but really bad at giving; like the Christmas clay pots of apprentices, quick to collect money, but he doesn’t give any back until he’s broken, like a potter's vessel, into many pieces."
Aubrey, in his Wiltshire Collections, circ. 1670 (p. 45), thus describes a trouvaille of Roman coins. "Among the rest was an earthen pott of the colour of a Crucible, and of the shape of a prentice's Christmas Box, with a slit in it, containing about a quart, which was near full of money. This pot I gave to the Repository of the Royal Society at Gresham College."
Aubrey, in his Wiltshire Collections, circa 1670 (p. 45), describes a find of Roman coins like this: "Among other things was a clay pot that looked like a crucible and was shaped like a apprentice's Christmas box, with a slit in it, holding about a quart and nearly full of money. I gave this pot to the Repository of the Royal Society at Gresham College."
And, to wind up these Christmas box notices, I may quote a verse from Henry Carey's "Sally in our Alley" (1715?).
And, to finish up these Christmas box announcements, I can quote a line from Henry Carey's "Sally in our Alley" (1715?).
When Christmas comes about again, Oh! Then I'll have money; I'll hoard it up, and box and all, I'll give it to my sweetheart. |
There used to be a very curious custom on St. Stephen's day, which Douce says was introduced into this country by Danes—that of bleeding horses. That it was usual is, I think, proved by very different authorities. Tusser says:—
There used to be a very curious custom on St. Stephen's Day, which Douce says was brought to this country by the Danes—that of bleeding horses. That it was common is, I believe, supported by various sources. Tusser says:—
Yer Christmas be passed, let horsse be let blood, For manie a purpose it dooth him much good; The day of S. Steeven old fathers did use; If that do mislike thee, some other day chuse. |
And Barnebe Googe, in his translation of Naogeorgus, remarks:—
And Barnebe Googe, in his translation of Naogeorgus, notes:—
Then followeth Saint Stephen's day, whereon doth every man His horses iaunt and course abrode, as swiftly as he can; Untill they doe extreemely sweate, and than they let them blood, For this being done upon this day, they say doth do them good, And keepes them from all maladies and secknesse through the yeare, As if that Steuen any time tooke charge of horses heare. |
Aubrey, also, in his Remains of Gentilisme, says: "On St. Stephen's day the farrier came constantly, and blouded all our cart horses."
Aubrey, also, in his Remains of Gentilisme, says: "On St. Stephen's day, the blacksmith regularly came and bled all our cart horses."
It was occasionally the day of great festivity, even though[Pg 205] it came so very closely after Christmas day; and Mr. J.G. Nichols, in Notes and Queries (2 ser. viii. 484), quotes a letter, dated 2nd January 1614, in confirmation. It is from an alderman of Leicester to his brother in Wood Street, Cheapside. "Yow wryte how yow reacayved my lettar on St. Steven's day, and that, I thanke yow, yow esteemed yt as welcoom as the 18 trumpytors; wt in so doing, I must and will esteme yowres, God willing, more wellcoom then trumpets and all the musicke we have had since Christmas, and yet we have had prety store bothe of owre owne and othar, evar since Christmas. And the same day we were busy wt hollding up hands and spoones to yow, out of porredge and pyes, in the remembraunce of yowre greate lyberality of frute and spice, which God send yow long lyffe to contynew, for of that day we have not myssed anny St. Steven this 47 yeare to have as many gas (guests) as my howse will holld, I thank God for yt."
It was sometimes a day of big celebrations, even though[Pg 205] it came so soon after Christmas day; and Mr. J.G. Nichols, in Notes and Queries (2 ser. viii. 484), shares a letter dated January 2, 1614, as evidence. It’s from an alderman in Leicester to his brother in Wood Street, Cheapside. "You wrote how you received my letter on St. Stephen’s Day, and I appreciate that you welcomed it as much as the 18 trumpeters; and in doing so, I must and will value yours, God willing, even more than trumpets and all the music we've had since Christmas, and we’ve had plenty from both our own and others since Christmas. That same day we were busy raising our hands and spoons to you, out of porridge and pies, in remembrance of your great generosity with fruit and spices, which God grant you long life to continue, for on that day we have not missed any St. Stephen for the past 47 years to host as many guests as my house can hold, I thank God for it."
In Southey's Common Place Book it is noted that the three Vicars of Bampton, Oxon., give beef and beer on the morning of St. Stephen's day to those who choose to partake of it. This is called St. Stephen's breakfast. The same book also mentions a singular custom in Wales, that on this day everybody is privileged to whip another person's legs with holly, which is often reciprocated till the blood streams down; and this is corroborated in Mason's Tales and Traditions of Tenby, where it is mentioned as being practised in that town.
In Southey's Common Place Book, it is noted that the three Vicars of Bampton, Oxon., offer beef and beer on the morning of St. Stephen's Day to anyone who wants to join. This is known as St. Stephen's breakfast. The same book also mentions a unique tradition in Wales, where on this day everyone has the right to whip another person's legs with holly, often returning the favor until blood runs down; this is also confirmed in Mason's Tales and Traditions of Tenby, which states that this practice happens in that town.
We have heard of hunting the wren in the Isle of Man; the same custom obtains in the south of Ireland, only it takes place on St. Stephen's day. There is a tradition which is supposed to account for this animosity against this pretty and harmless little bird. In one of the many Irish rebellions a night march was made by a body of rebels on a party of royalists, and when, about dawn of day, they neared the sleeping out-posts, a slumbering drummer was aroused by a tapping on his drum; and, giving the alarm, the rebels were repulsed. The tapping was caused by a wren pecking at the crumbs left on the drum-head after the drummer's last meal. Henceforward a grudge was nursed against the wren, which has existed until now.[Pg 206]
We’ve heard about hunting the wren in the Isle of Man; the same tradition exists in southern Ireland, but it happens on St. Stephen’s Day. There’s a tale that explains this hostility towards this pretty and harmless little bird. During one of the many Irish rebellions, a group of rebels marched at night towards a camp of royalists, and as dawn approached, they got close to the sleeping outposts. A dozing drummer was woken up by a tapping on his drum; startled, he sounded the alarm, and the rebels were pushed back. The tapping was from a wren pecking at the crumbs left on the drumhead after the drummer’s last meal. From that point on, a grudge against the wren has lingered up to now.[Pg 206]
The "wren boys" go round, calling at houses, either having a dead wren in a box, or hung on a holly bush, and they sing a song:—
The "wren boys" go around, visiting houses, either with a dead wren in a box or hanging on a holly bush, and they sing a song:—
The Wran, the Wran, the king of all birds, On St. Stephen's day she's cotched in the furze; Although she's but wee, her family's great, So come down, Lan'leddy, and gie us a trate. Then put on the kettle, and take down the pan, And let us have money to bury the Wran. |
Croker, in his Researches in the South of Ireland (p. 233), gives us more of this song:—
Croker, in his Researches in the South of Ireland (p. 233), shares more of this song:—
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 may rest; But, if you draw it of the small, It won't agree with the Wren boys at all, etc. etc. |
"A small piece of money is usually bestowed on them, and the evening concludes in merrymaking with the money thus collected."
"A small amount of money is usually given to them, and the evening ends with celebrations using the money that was collected."
The 27th December is set apart by the Church to commemorate St. John the Evangelist. Googe, in his translation of Naogeorgus, says:—
The 27th of December is designated by the Church to honor St. John the Evangelist. Googe, in his translation of Naogeorgus, states:—
Next John the sonne of Zebedee hath his appoynted day, Who once by cruell tyraunts will, constrayned was, they say, Strong poyson up to drinke, therefore the Papistes doe beleeve That whoso puts their trust in him, no poyson them can greeue. The wine beside that hallowed is, in worship of his name, The priestes doe giue the people that bring money for the same. And, after, with the selfe same wine are little manchets made, Agaynst the boystrous winter stormes, and sundrie such like trade. The men upon this solemne day do take this holy wine, To make them strong, so do the maydes, to make them faire and fine. |
In explanation of this I may quote from Mrs. Jameson's Sacred and Legendary Art (ed. 1857, p. 159): "He (St. John) bears in his hand the sacramental cup, from which a serpent is seen to issue. St. Isidore relates that at Rome an attempt was made to poison St. John in the cup of the sacrament; he drank of the same, and administered it to the communicants without injury, the poison having, by a miracle, issued from the cup in the form of a serpent, while the hired assassin fell down dead at his feet. According to another version of this story the poisoned cup was administered by order of the Emperor Domitian. According to a third version, Aristodemus, the high priest of Diana at Ephesus, defied him to drink of the poisoned chalice, as a test of the[Pg 208] truth of his mission. St. John drank unharmed—the priest fell dead."
In explaining this, I can quote from Mrs. Jameson's Sacred and Legendary Art (ed. 1857, p. 159): "He (St. John) holds in his hand the sacramental cup, from which a serpent is seen to emerge. St. Isidore mentions that in Rome, there was an attempt to poison St. John in the cup of the sacrament; he drank from it and served it to the communicants without harm, as the poison miraculously transformed into a serpent and left the cup, while the hired assassin dropped dead at his feet. In another version of this story, the poisoned cup was given by order of Emperor Domitian. In a third version, Aristodemus, the high priest of Diana at Ephesus, challenged him to drink from the poisoned chalice to prove the[Pg 208] truth of his mission. St. John drank unscathed—the priest fell dead."
Wright gives two very pretty carols for St. John's day.
Wright offers two beautiful carols for St. John's day.
To almyghty God pray for pees.
To Almighty God, please pray for peace..
Amice Christi Johannes.
Friend of Christ John.
O glorius Johan Evangelyste, Best belovyd with Jhesu Cryst, In Cena Domini upon hys bryst You have seen his secrets. Chosen thou art to Cryst Jhesu, Thy mynd was never cast frome vertu; Thi doctryne of God thou dydest renu, By his footsteps. Cryst on the rod, in hys swet passyon, Toke the hys moder as to hyr sone; For owr synnes gett grace and pardon, For your holy merits. O most nobble of evangelystes all, Grace to owr maker for us thou call, And off swetenesse celestyall, Bring us the drinks. And aftur the cowrs of mortalite, In heven with aungels for to be, Sayyng Ozanna to the Trinitye. For centuries to come. |
Pray for us, thou prynce of pes.
Pray for us, you prince of peace..
Amici Christi, Johannes.
Friends of Christ, John.
To the now, Crystys der derlyng, That was a mayd bothe old and Young, Myn hert is sett for to syng Friends of Christ, John. For he was so clene a maye, On Crystys brest aslepe he laye, The prevyteys of hevyn ther he saye. Friends of Christ, John. Qwhen Cryst beforne Pilate was browte, Hys clene mayd forsoke hym nowte, To deye with hym was all hys thowte, Friends of Christ, John. Crystys moder was hym betake, Won mayd to be anodyris make, To help that we be nott forsake, Friends of Christ, John. |
On 28th December the Holy Innocents, or the children slain by order of Herod, are borne in mind. Naogeorgus says of this day:[Pg 209]—
On December 28th, we remember the Holy Innocents, the children who were killed on Herod's orders. Naogeorgus speaks of this day:[Pg 209]—
Then comes the day that calles to minde the cruell Herode's strife, Who, seeking Christ to kill, the King of everlasting life, Destroyde the little infants yong, a beast unmercilesse, And put to death all such as were of two yeares age or lesse. To them the sinfull wretchesse crie, and earnestly do pray, To get them pardon for their faultes, and wipe their sinnes away. The Parentes, when this day appeares, do beate their children all, (Though nothing they deserve), and servaunts all to beating fall, And Monkes do whip eche other well, or else their Prior great, Or Abbot mad, doth take in hande their breeches all to beat: In worship of these Innocents, or rather, as we see, In honour of the cursed King, that did this crueltee. |
In the Rev. John Gregorie's pamphlet, Episcopus Puerorum in die Innocentium (1683, p. 113), he says: "It hath been a Custom, and yet is elsewhere, to whip up the Children upon Innocents' day morning, that the memory of this Murther might stick the closer, and, in a moderate proportion, to act over again the cruelty in kind."
In Rev. John Gregorie's pamphlet, Episcopus Puerorum in die Innocentium (1683, p. 113), he states: "It has been a tradition, and still is in some places, to whip children on the morning of Innocents' day, so that the memory of this murder remains more vivid, and, to a reasonable extent, to reenact the cruelty in a similar way."
By the way, the Boy Bishop went out of office on Innocents' day, and the learned John Gregorie aforesaid tells us all about him. "The Episcopus Choristarum was a Chorister Bishop chosen by his Fellow Children upon St. Nicholas Day.... From this Day till Innocents' Day at night (it lasted longer at the first) the Episcopus Puerorum was to bear the name and hold up the state of a Bishop, answerably habited with a Crosier, or Pastoral Staff, in his hand, and a Mitre upon his head; and such an one, too, some had, as was multis Episcoporum mitris sumptuosior (saith one), very much richer than those of Bishops indeed.
By the way, the Boy Bishop ended his term on Innocents' Day, and the knowledgeable John Gregorie mentioned above tells us all about him. "The Episcopus Choristarum was a Chorister Bishop chosen by his fellow children on St. Nicholas Day... From this day until the night of Innocents' Day (which initially lasted longer), the Episcopus Puerorum was to take on the name and role of a Bishop, appropriately dressed with a Crosier or Pastoral Staff in his hand and a Mitre on his head; and some had such a Mitre that was multis Episcoporum mitris sumptuosior (as one said), far more extravagant than those of actual Bishops."
"The rest of his Fellows from the same time being were to take upon them the style and counterfeit of Prebends, yielding to their Bishop no less than Canonical obedience.
"The rest of his colleagues from the same time were to adopt the title and pretense of Prebends, offering their Bishop no less than the required obedience."
"And look what service the very Bishop himself with his Dean and Prebends (had they been to officiate) was to have performed. The very same was done by the Chorister Bishop and his Canons upon the Eve and Holiday." Then follows the full ritual of his office, according to the Use of Sarum; and it was provided, "That no man whatsoever, under the pain of Anathema, should interrupt, or press upon these Children at the Procession spoken of before, or in any part of their Service in any ways, but to suffer[Pg 210] them quietly to perform and execute what it concerned them to do.
"And look at the service that the Bishop himself, along with his Dean and Prebends (if they were to officiate), was going to perform. The same was done by the Chorister Bishop and his Canons on the Eve and Holiday." Then follows the complete ritual of his office, according to the Use of Sarum; and it was stipulated, "That no one, under the penalty of Anathema, should interrupt or crowd these Children during the previously mentioned Procession, or in any part of their Service in any way, but to allow[Pg 210] them to quietly perform and carry out whatever they needed to do.
"And the part was acted yet more earnestly, for Molanus saith that this Bishop, in some places, did receive Rents, Capons, etc., during his year; And it seemeth by the statute of Sarum, that he held a kind of Visitation, and had a full correspondency of all other State and Prerogative.... In case the Chorister Bishop died within the Month, his Exequies were solemnized with an answerable glorious pomp and sadness. He was buried (as all other Bishops) in all his Ornaments, as by the Monument in stone spoken of before,[83] it plainly appeareth."
"And the role was performed with even more seriousness, because Molanus states that this Bishop, in certain areas, did collect rents, capons, and so on, during his year; and it appears from the statute of Sarum that he conducted a type of visitation and had full communication with all other states and privileges.... If the Chorister Bishop passed away within the month, his funeral was held with a correspondingly grand and somber display. He was buried (like all other Bishops) in all his regalia, as it clearly shows in the stone monument mentioned earlier,[83]."
Hone, in his Every-Day Book (vol. i. pp. 1559-60), gives a facsimile of this monument from Gregorie's book, and says: "The ceremony of the boy bishop is supposed to have existed, not only in collegiate churches, but in almost every parish in England. He and his companions walked the streets in public procession. A statute of the Collegiate Church of St. Mary Overy, in 1337, restrained one of them to the limits of his own parish. On December 7, 1229, the day after St. Nicholas' Day, a boy bishop in the chapel at Heton, near Newcastle-on-Tyne, said vespers before Edward I. on his way to Scotland, who made a considerable present to him, and the other boys who sang with him. In the reign of King Edward III, a boy bishop received a present of nineteen shillings and sixpence for singing before the king in his private chamber on Innocents' day. Dean Colet, in the statutes of St. Paul's School, which he founded in 1512, expressly ordains that his scholars should, every Childermas Day,[84] 'come to Paulis Churche, and hear the Chylde Bishop's Sermon; and, after, be at hygh masse, and each of them offer a penny to the Chylde-Bishop; and with them, the maisters and surveyors of the Scole.'"
Hone, in his Every-Day Book (vol. i. pp. 1559-60), provides a copy of this monument from Gregorie's book and states: "The ceremony of the boy bishop is believed to have taken place not just in college churches, but in nearly every parish in England. He and his companions would walk through the streets in public processions. A statute from the Collegiate Church of St. Mary Overy in 1337 limited one of them to the boundaries of his own parish. On December 7, 1229, the day after St. Nicholas' Day, a boy bishop in the chapel at Heton, near Newcastle-on-Tyne, led vespers before Edward I. on his way to Scotland, who gave him a generous gift, along with the other boys who sang with him. During the reign of King Edward III, a boy bishop received a gift of nineteen shillings and sixpence for singing before the king in his private chamber on Innocents' Day. Dean Colet, in the rules of St. Paul's School that he founded in 1512, specifically instructs that his students should, every Childermas Day,[84] 'come to Paul's Church, and hear the Child Bishop's Sermon; and afterwards, be at high mass, each of them offering a penny to the Child Bishop; along with them, the teachers and overseers of the School.'"
By a proclamation of Henry VIII., dated 22nd July 1542, the show of the boy bishop was abrogated, but in the reign of Mary it was revived with other Romish ceremonials. A flattering song was sung before that queen by a boy bishop,[Pg 211] and printed. It was a panegyric on her devotion, and compared her to Judith, Esther, the Queen of Sheba, and the Virgin Mary.
By a proclamation from Henry VIII., dated July 22, 1542, the tradition of the boy bishop was canceled, but during Mary's reign, it was brought back along with other Catholic ceremonies. A boy bishop sang a complimentary song before that queen, [Pg 211] which was also printed. The song praised her devotion and compared her to Judith, Esther, the Queen of Sheba, and the Virgin Mary.
The accounts of St. Mary at Hill, London, in the 10th Henry VI., and for 1549 and 1550, contain charges for boy bishops for those years. At that period his estimation in the Church seems to have been undiminished; for on 13th November 1554 the Bishop of London issued an order to all the clergy of his diocese to have boy bishops and their processions; and in the same year these young sons of the old Church paraded St. Andrew's, Holborn, and St. Nicholas, Olaves, in Bread Street, and other parishes. In 1556 Strype says that "the boy bishops again went abroad, singing in the old fashion, and were received by many ignorant but well-disposed persons into their houses, and had much good cheer."
The records from St. Mary at Hill, London, during the reign of Henry VI and for the years 1549 and 1550, include expenses for boy bishops for those years. At that time, his reputation in the Church seemed to be strong; on November 13, 1554, the Bishop of London instructed all the clergy in his diocese to have boy bishops and their processions. In that same year, these young representatives of the old Church paraded through St. Andrew's in Holborn, St. Nicholas in Olaves Bread Street, and other parishes. In 1556, Strype noted that "the boy bishops went out again, singing in the traditional style, and were welcomed by many well-meaning but uninformed people into their homes, where they were treated generously."
Speaking of the Christmas festivities at Lincoln's Inn, Dugdale[85] says: "Moreover, that the King of Cockneys, on Childermass Day, should sit and have due service; and that he and all his officers should use honest manner and good Order, without any wast or destruction making, in Wine, Brawn, Chely, or other Vitaills."
Speaking of the Christmas celebrations at Lincoln's Inn, Dugdale[85] says: "Furthermore, that the King of Cockneys, on Childermass Day, should sit and receive proper service; and that he and all his officers should conduct themselves in an honest manner and good order, without any waste or destruction of wine, brawn, jelly, or other food."
In Chambers's Book of Days we find that, "In consequence probably of the feeling of horror attached to such an act of atrocity, Innocents' Day used to be reckoned about the most unlucky throughout the year, and in former times no one who could possibly avoid it began any work, or entered on any undertaking on this anniversary. To marry on Childermas Day was specially inauspicious. It is said of the equally superstitious and unprincipled monarch, Louis XV., that he would never perform any business or enter into any discussion about his affairs on this day, and to make to him then any proposal of the kind was certain to exasperate him to the utmost. We are informed, too, that in England, on the occasion of the coronation of King Edward IV., that solemnity, which had been originally intended to take place on a Sunday, was postponed till the Monday, owing to the former day being, in that year, the festival of Childermas. The idea[Pg 212] of the inauspicious nature of the day was long prevalent, and is even not yet wholly extinct. To the present hour, we understand, the housewives in Cornwall, and probably also in other parts of the country, refrain scrupulously from scouring or scrubbing on Innocents' Day."
In Chambers's Book of Days, it's noted that, "Probably due to the horror associated with such an act of cruelty, Innocents' Day has long been considered one of the unluckiest days of the year. In the past, no one who could help it would start any work or begin any project on this day. Getting married on Childermas Day was especially seen as unlucky. It’s said that the superstitious and unscrupulous king, Louis XV, would never conduct any business or engage in discussions about his affairs on this day, and making any proposals to him then would surely irritate him to no end. We also learn that during the coronation of King Edward IV in England, the ceremony, originally scheduled for a Sunday, was pushed back to Monday because that year, Sunday was the festival of Childermas. The belief in the day's bad luck was prevalent for a long time and isn’t completely gone even now. To this day, we understand that housewives in Cornwall, and likely in other parts of the country, still avoid scouring or scrubbing on Innocents' Day."
At the churches in several parts of the country muffled peals are rung on this day, and with the Irish it is called "La crosta na bliana," or "the cross day of the year," and also, "Diar daoin darg," or "Bloody Thursday," and on that day the Irish housewife will not warp thread, nor permit it to be warped; and the Irish say that anything begun upon that day must have an unlucky ending.
At churches in various parts of the country, muted bells are rung on this day, and for the Irish, it’s known as "La crosta na bliana," meaning "the cross day of the year," and also "Diar daoin darg," which translates to "Bloody Thursday." On this day, Irish housewives don’t warp thread or allow anyone else to do it, as they believe that anything started on this day will end badly.
A writer in Notes and Queries (4 ser. xii. 185) says: "The following legend regarding the day is current in the county of Clare. Between the parishes of Quin and Tulla, in that county, is a lake called Turlough. In the lake is a little island; and among a heap of loose stones in the middle of the island rises a white thorn bush, which is called 'Scagh an Earla' (the Earl's bush). A suit of clothes made for a child on the 'Cross day' was put on the child; the child died. The clothes were put on a second and on a third child; they also died. The parents of the children at length put out the clothes on the 'Scag an Earla,' and when the waters fell the clothes were found to be full of dead eels."
A writer in Notes and Queries (4 ser. xii. 185) states: "The following legend about the day is well-known in County Clare. Between the parishes of Quin and Tulla, there is a lake called Turlough. In the lake, there's a small island; and on a pile of loose stones in the center of the island stands a white thorn bush, known as 'Scagh an Earla' (the Earl's bush). Clothes made for a child on the 'Cross day' were put on the child, and the child died. The clothes were then put on a second and a third child; they also died. Eventually, the parents placed the clothes on the 'Scagh an Earla,' and when the waters receded, the clothes were found to be filled with dead eels."
Here is a good carol for Innocents' day, published in the middle of the sixteenth century:—
Here’s a great song for Innocents' Day, published in the mid-sixteenth century:—
A Carol of the Innocents.
A Carol for the Innocent.
Mark this song, for it is true, For it is true, as clerks tell: In old time strange things came to pass, Great wonder and great marvel was In Israel. There was one, Octavian, Octavian of Rome Emperor, As books old doth specify, Of all the wide world truly He was leader and governor. The Jews, that time, lack'd a king, They lack'd a king to guide them well, The Emperor of power and might, Chose one Herod against all right, In Israel. This Herod, then, was King of Jews Was King of Jews, and he no Jew, Forsooth he was a Paynim born, Wherefore on faith it may be sworn [Pg 213]He reigned as a false king. By prophecy, one Isai, One Isai, at least, did tell A child should come, wondrous news, That should be born true King of Jews In Israel. This Herod knew one born should be, One born should be of true lineage, That should be right heritor; For he but by the Emperor Was made by usurpation. Wherefore of thought this King Herod, This King Herod in great fear fell, For all the days most in his mirth, Ever he feared Christ his birth In Israel. The time came it pleased God, It pleased God so to come to pass, For man's soul indeed His blessed Son was born with speed, As he wanted. Tidings came to King Herod, To King Herod, and did him tell, That one born forsooth is he, Which lord and king of all shall be In Israel. Herod then raged, as he were wode (mad), As he were wode of this tyding, And sent for all his scribes sure, Yet would he not trust the Scripture, Nor of their advice. This, then, was the conclusion, The conclusion of his counsel, To send unto his knights anon To slay the children every one In Israel. This cruel king this tyranny, This tyranny did put in ure (practice), Between a day and years two, All men-children he did slew, Of Christ, that's for sure. Yet Herod missed his cruel prey, His cruel prey, as was God's will; Joseph with Mary then did flee With Christ to Egypt, gone was she From Israel. All the while these tyrants, These tyrants would not convert, But innocents young That lay sucking, They pierced the heart. This Herod sought the children young, The children young, with courage fell. But in doing this vengeance His own son was slain by chance In Israel. Alas! I think the mothers were woe, The mothers were woe, it was great skill, What motherly pain To see them slain, In cradles lying quietly! But God Himself hath them elect, Hath them elect in heaven to dwell, For they were bathed in their blood, For their Baptism forsooth it stood In Israel. Alas! again, what hearts had they, What hearts had they those babes to kill, With swords when they them caught, In cradles they lay and laughed, And never thought poorly. |
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CHAPTER 28 New Year's Eve—Wassail—New Year's Eve Customs—Hogmany—The Clāvie—Other Customs—Weather Prophecy. |
New Year's eve is variously kept—by some in harmless mirth, by others in religious exercises. Many churches in England have late services, which close at midnight with a carol or appropriate hymn, and this custom is especially held by the Wesleyan Methodists in their "Watch Night," when they pray, etc., till about five minutes to twelve, when there is a dead silence, supposed to be spent in introspection, which lasts until the clock strikes, and then they burst forth with a hymn of praise and joy.
New Year's Eve is celebrated in different ways—some people engage in harmless fun, while others focus on religious activities. Many churches in England hold late-night services that end at midnight with a carol or suitable hymn. This tradition is particularly observed by the Wesleyan Methodists during their "Watch Night," where they pray and reflect until about five minutes to midnight, after which there is a moment of silence meant for introspection that lasts until the clock strikes. At that moment, they joyfully sing a hymn of praise.
The wassail bowl used to hold as high a position as at Christmas eve, and in Lyson's time it was customary in Gloucestershire for a merry party to go from house to house carrying a large bowl, decked with garlands and ribbons, singing the following wassail song:—
The wassail bowl used to be just as important as on Christmas Eve, and back in Lyson's day, it was a tradition in Gloucestershire for a cheerful group to go from house to house, carrying a large bowl adorned with garlands and ribbons, singing the following wassail song:—
Wassail! Wassail! all over the town, Our toast it is white, our ale it is brown, Our bowl it is made of a maplin tree; We be good fellows all, I drink to thee. Here's to our horse, and to his right ear, God send our maister a happy New Year; A happy New Year as e'er he did see— With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee. Here's to our mare, and to her right eye, God send our mistress a good Christmas pye: A good Christmas pye as e'er I did see— [Pg 215]With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee. Here's to Fill-pail (cow) and to her long tail, God send our measter us never may fail Of a cup of good beer, I pray you draw near, And our jolly wassail it's then you shall hear. Be here any maids? I suppose there be some, Sure they will not let young men stand on the cold stone Sing hey, O maids, come trole back the pin, And the fairest maid in the house let us all in. Come, butler, come bring us a bowl of the best: I hope your soul in heaven will rest: But, if you do bring us a bowl of the small, Then down fall butler, bowl, and all. |
Until recently, a similar custom obtained in Nottinghamshire; but, in that case, the young women of the village, dressed in their best, carried round a decorated bowl filled with ale, roasted apples, and toast, seasoned with nutmeg and sugar, the regulation wassail compound. This they offered to the inmates of the house they called at, whilst they sang the following, amongst other verses:—
Until recently, a similar tradition took place in Nottinghamshire; however, in that case, the young women of the village, dressed in their finest clothes, carried around a decorated bowl filled with ale, roasted apples, and toast, spiced with nutmeg and sugar, the standard wassail mix. They offered this to the residents of the house they visited while singing the following, among other verses:—
Good master, at your door, Let's start our celebration; We are all maidens poor, So we ask you to let us in, And drink our wassail. All hail, cheers! Cheers! Cheers! And drink our wassail. |
In Derbyshire, on this night, a cold posset used to be prepared, made of milk, ale, eggs, currants, and spices, and in it is placed the hostess's wedding ring. Each of the party takes out a ladleful, and in so doing tries to fish out the ring, believing that whoever shall be fortunate enough to get it will be married before the year is out. It was also customary in some districts to throw open all the doors of the house just before midnight, and, waiting for the advent of the New Year, to greet him as he approaches with cries of "Welcome!"
In Derbyshire, on this night, a cold posset was prepared, made from milk, ale, eggs, currants, and spices, with the hostess's wedding ring added to it. Each guest would take a ladleful, hoping to find the ring, as it was believed that whoever succeeded in getting it would marry before the year ended. In some areas, it was also a tradition to open all the doors of the house just before midnight and, while waiting for the arrival of the New Year, to welcome him with shouts of "Welcome!"
At Muncaster, in Cumberland, on this night the children used to go from house to house singing a song, in which they[Pg 216] crave the bounty "they were wont to have in old King Edward's time"; but what that was is not known.
At Muncaster, in Cumberland, on this night the children used to go from house to house singing a song, in which they[Pg 216] ask for the treats "they used to get in the time of old King Edward"; but what those were is unknown.
It was a custom at Merton College, Oxford, according to Pointer (Oxoniensis Academia, ed. 1749, p. 24), on the last night in the year, called Scrutiny Night, for the College servants, all in a body, to make their appearance in the Hall, before the Warden and Fellows (after supper), and there to deliver up their keys, so that if they have committed any great crime during the year their keys are taken away, and they consequently lose their places, or they have them delivered to them afresh.
It was a tradition at Merton College, Oxford, according to Pointer (Oxoniensis Academia, ed. 1749, p. 24), on the last night of the year, known as Scrutiny Night, for all the College staff to gather in the Hall, in front of the Warden and Fellows (after supper), and hand over their keys. If they had committed any significant wrongdoing during the year, their keys would be taken away, resulting in the loss of their positions, or they would be given their keys back anew.
On this night a curious custom obtained at Bradford, in Yorkshire, where a party of men and women, with blackened faces, and fantastically attired, used to enter houses with besoms, and "sweep out the Old Year."
On this night, an unusual tradition took place in Bradford, Yorkshire, where a group of men and women, with their faces painted black and dressed in wild costumes, would enter homes with brooms and "sweep out the Old Year."
Although Christmas is kept in Scotland, there is more festivity at the New Year, and perhaps one of the most singular customs is that which was told by a gentleman to Dr. Johnson during his tour in the Hebrides. On New Year's eve, in the hall or castle of the Laird, where at festal seasons there may be supposed to be a very numerous company, one man dresses himself in a cow's hide, upon which the others beat with sticks. He runs, with all this noise, round the house, which all the company quit in a counterfeited fright, and the door is then shut. On New Year's eve there is no great pleasure to be had out of doors in the Hebrides. They are sure soon to recover sufficiently from their terror to solicit for readmission, which is not to be obtained but by repeating a verse, with which those who are knowing and provident are provided.
Although Christmas is celebrated in Scotland, New Year's is an even bigger deal, and one of the most unique traditions was shared by a gentleman with Dr. Johnson during his trip to the Hebrides. On New Year's Eve, in the hall or castle of the Laird, where a large group is expected for the festivities, one man dresses up in a cow's hide, and the others hit it with sticks. He runs around the house making all this noise, while everyone else pretends to be scared and leaves, shutting the door behind them. There's not much fun to be had outdoors in the Hebrides on New Year's Eve. Eventually, they'll calm down enough to ask for re-entry, but they can only get back in by reciting a verse, which those who are clever and prepared already have.
In the Orkney Islands it was formerly the custom for bands of people to assemble and pay a round of visits, singing a song which began—
In the Orkney Islands, it used to be a tradition for groups of people to get together and go visiting, singing a song that started—
This night it is guid New'r E'en's night, We're all here, Queen Mary's men: And we're come here to crave our right, And that's before our Lady! |
In the county of Fife this night was called "Singen E'en," probably from the custom of singing carols then. This day[Pg 217] is popularly known in Scotland as Hogmany, and the following is a fragment of a Yorkshire Hagmena song:—
In the county of Fife, this night is called "Singen E'en," probably because of the tradition of singing carols at that time. This day[Pg 217] is commonly known in Scotland as Hogmany, and here’s a snippet from a Yorkshire Hagmena song:—
To-night it is the New Year's night, to-morrow is the day, And we are come for our right and for our ray, As we used to do in Old King Henry's day: Sing, friends! sing, Hagman-ha! If you go to the bacon flick, cut me a good bit; Cut, cut and low, beware of your maw. Cut, cut and round, beware of your thumb, That me and my merry men may have some: Sing, guys! sing, Hag-man-ha! If you go to the black ark (chest), bring me ten marks; Ten marks, ten pound, throw it down upon the ground, That me and my merry men may have some: Sing, guys! sing, Hog-man-ha! |
The meaning of this word "Hogmany" is not clear, and has been a source of dispute among Scottish antiquaries; but two suggestions of its derivation are probable. One is that it comes from Au qui menez (To the mistleto go), which mummers formerly cried in France at Christmas; and the other is that it is derived from Au gueux menez, i.e. bring the beggars—which would be suitable for charitable purposes at such a time. In some remote parts of Scotland the poor children robe themselves in a sheet, which is so arranged as to make a large pocket in front, and going about in little bands, they call at houses for their Hogmany, which is given them in the shape of some oat cake, and sometimes cheese, the cakes being prepared some days beforehand, in order to meet the demand. On arriving at a house they cry "Hogmany," or sing some rough verse, like—
The meaning of the word "Hogmanay" isn't clear and has been a topic of debate among Scottish historians; however, two possible origins seem likely. One is that it comes from Au qui menez (To the mistletoe go), which performers used to shout in France during Christmas; the other is derived from Au gueux menez, i.e. bring the beggars—which would fit the charitable spirit of that time. In some remote areas of Scotland, poor children dress in a sheet that’s arranged to create a large pocket in front, and going around in small groups, they visit houses asking for their Hogmanay, which they receive in the form of some oat cakes and sometimes cheese, with the cakes prepared days in advance to meet the demand. When they arrive at a house, they shout "Hogmanay" or sing a simple verse, like—
New Year's Eve, Trollolol, Give us of your white bread, and none of your grey! |
In Notes and Queries (2 ser. ix. 38) a singular Scotch custom is detailed. Speaking of the village of Burghead, on the southern shore of the Moray Frith, the writer says: "On the evening of the last day of December (old style) the youth of the village assemble about dusk, and make[Pg 218] the necessary preparations for the celebration of the 'clāvie.' Proceeding to some shop, they demand a strong empty barrel, which is usually gifted at once; but if refused, taken by force. Another for breaking up, and a quantity of tar are likewise procured at the same time. Thus furnished, they repair to a particular spot close to the sea shore, and commence operations.
In Notes and Queries (2 ser. ix. 38), a unique Scottish custom is described. Talking about the village of Burghead, located on the southern coast of the Moray Firth, the author notes: "On the evening of the last day of December (old style), the village youths gather around dusk, making[Pg 218] the necessary preparations for the 'clāvie.' They head to a shop and ask for a strong empty barrel, which is usually given to them right away; if not, they take it by force. They also obtain another barrel to break apart and some tar at the same time. With these supplies, they go to a specific spot near the seashore and start their activities."
"A hole, about four inches in diameter, is first made in the bottom of the stronger barrel, into which the end of a stout pole, five feet in length, is firmly fixed; to strengthen their hold, a number of supports are nailed round the outside of the former, and also closely round the latter. The tar is then put into the barrel, and set on fire; and the remaining one being broken up, stave after stave is thrown in, until it is quite full. The 'clāvie,' already burning fiercely, is now shouldered by some strong young man, and borne away at a rapid pace. As soon as the bearer gives signs of exhaustion, another willingly takes his place; and should any of those who are honoured to carry the blazing load meet with an accident, as sometimes happens, the misfortune excites no pity, even among his near relatives.
A hole about four inches wide is first made in the bottom of the stronger barrel, into which the end of a sturdy five-foot pole is securely attached; to enhance their stability, several supports are nailed around the outside of the first barrel and closely around the other. The tar is then added to the barrel and set on fire; the other barrel is broken up, and stave by stave is thrown in until it’s completely full. The “clāvie,” already burning strongly, is then shouldered by a strong young man, who carries it away quickly. As soon as the bearer shows signs of tiring, someone else readily takes his place; and if any of those honored to carry the blazing load suffer an accident, as sometimes happens, the misfortune draws no sympathy, even from their close relatives.
"In making the circuit of the village they are said to confine themselves to their old boundaries. Formerly the procession visited all the fishing boats, but this has been discontinued for some time. Having gone over the appointed ground, the 'clāvie' is finally carried to a small artificial eminence near the point of the promontory, and, interesting as being a portion of the ancient fortifications, spared, probably on account of its being used for this purpose, where a circular heap of stones used to be hastily piled up, in the hollow centre of which the 'clāvie' was placed, still burning. On this eminence, which is termed the 'durie,' the present proprietor has recently erected a small round column, with a cavity in the centre, for admitting the free end of the pole, and into this it is now placed. After being allowed to burn on the 'durie' for a few minutes, the 'clāvie' is most unceremoniously hurled from its place, and the smoking embers scattered among the assembled crowd, by whom, in less enlightened times, they were eagerly caught at, and fragments of them carried home, and carefully preserved as charms against[Pg 219] witchcraft." Some discussion took place on the origin of this custom, but nothing satisfactory was eliminated.
"In going around the village, they are said to stick to their old boundaries. In the past, the procession visited all the fishing boats, but that practice has stopped for a while. After covering the designated area, the 'clāvie' is finally taken to a small artificial mound near the tip of the promontory, which is interesting as part of the ancient fortifications, likely preserved because it's used for this purpose. There used to be a circular pile of stones thrown together in the hollow center where the 'clāvie' was placed, still lit. On this mound, called the 'durie,' the current owner has recently put up a small round column with a cavity in the center to hold the free end of the pole; the 'clāvie' is now placed in this. After burning on the 'durie' for a few minutes, the 'clāvie' is casually thrown from its spot, and the smoking embers are scattered among the gathered crowd, by whom, in less enlightened times, they were eagerly collected, with pieces taken home and carefully kept as charms against witchcraft." Some discussion occurred about the origin of this custom, but nothing satisfactory came from it.
Another correspondent to the same periodical (2 ser. ix. 322) says: "A practice, which may be worth noting, came under my observation at the town of Biggar (in the upper ward of Lanarkshire) on 31st December last. It has been customary there, from time immemorial, among the inhabitants to celebrate what is called 'Burning out the Old Year.' For this purpose, during the day of the 31st, a large quantity of fuel is collected, consisting of branches of trees, brushwood, and coals, and placed in a heap at the 'Cross'; and about nine o'clock at night the lighting of the fire is commenced, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, who each thinks it a duty to cast into the flaming mass some additional portion of material, the whole becoming sufficient to maintain the fire till next, or New Year's morning is far advanced. Fires are also kindled on the adjacent hills to add to the importance of the occasion."
Another contributor to the same magazine (2 ser. ix. 322) mentions: "There's a practice that I noticed in Biggar (in the upper ward of Lanarkshire) on December 31st. For as long as anyone can remember, the locals have celebrated something called 'Burning out the Old Year.' On that day, they gather a lot of fuel, including branches, brushwood, and coals, and pile it up at the 'Cross.' Around nine o'clock at night, they start the fire, with a crowd of people gathered around, each person feeling it’s their duty to throw in something extra for the flames. The fire continues to burn until the early hours of New Year's Day. They also light fires on the nearby hills to emphasize the event."
In Ireland, according to Croker (Researches in the South of Ireland, p. 233), on the last night of the year a cake is thrown against the outside door of each house, by the head of the family, which ceremony is said to keep out hunger during the ensuing year:—
In Ireland, according to Croker (Researches in the South of Ireland, p. 233), on the last night of the year, the head of the family throws a cake against the outside door of each house, a tradition said to keep hunger away for the coming year:—
If New Year's Eve night wind blow South, It betokeneth warmth and growth; If West, much milk, and fish in the sea; If North, much cold and storms there will be; If East, the trees will bear much fruit; If North-East, flee it, man and brute. |
There is a peculiar feeling of satisfaction that comes over us with the advent of the New Year. The Old Year, with its joys and sorrows, its gains and disappointments, is irrevocably dead—dead without hope of resurrection, and there is not one of us who does not hope that the forthcoming year may be a happier one than that departed.
There is a strange sense of satisfaction that washes over us with the arrival of the New Year. The Old Year, with all its joys and sorrows, its wins and losses, is gone for good—gone without any chance of coming back, and each of us hopes that the upcoming year will be happier than the one we just left behind.
The following very pretty "Carol for New Year's Day" is taken from Psalmes, Songs, and Sonnets, composed by William Byrd, Lond. 1611:—
The following beautiful "Carol for New Year's Day" is taken from Psalmes, Songs, and Sonnets, composed by William Byrd, London, 1611:—
O God, that guides the cheerful sun Through unusual motions, the year is shaped, Which now, returned whence it begun, From Heaven praises Your glorious Name; This New Year's season sanctify With the double blessings of Your abundance, That graces new may multiply, And past mistakes no longer hold power. So shall our hearts with Heaven agree, And both give laud and praise to Thee. Amen. Th' old year, by course, is past and gone, Old Adam, Lord, drive away from us; New creatures make us every one, A new life fits perfectly with the New Year. As new-born babes from malice keep, [Pg 221]New wedding outfits, Christ, we desire; That we Thy face in Heaven may see, With bright angels, our souls will be saved. So shall our hearts with Heaven agree, And both give laud and praise to Thee. Amen. |
The Church takes no notice of the first of January as the beginning of a New Year, but only as the Feast of the Circumcision of our Lord, and consequently, being included in the twelve days of Christ-tide festivity, it was only regarded as one of them, and no particular stress was placed upon it. There were, and are, local customs peculiar to the day, but, with the exception of some special festivity, general good wishes for health and prosperity, and the giving of presents, there is no extraordinary recognition of the day.
The Church doesn't acknowledge January 1st as the start of a New Year, but only as the Feast of the Circumcision of our Lord. Therefore, since it's part of the twelve days of Christmastide celebrations, it's considered just one of those days, and not given any special significance. There are local customs unique to this day, but aside from some particular festivities, general wishes for health and happiness, and exchanging gifts, there's no extraordinary recognition of the day.
Naogeorgus says of it:—
Naogeorgus says this:—
The next to this is New Yeares day, whereon to every frende, They costly presents in do bring, and Newe Yeares giftes do sende. These giftes the husband gives his wife, and father eke the childe, And maister on his men bestowes the like, with favour milde. And good beginning of the yeare, they wishe and wishe againe, According to the auncient guise of heathen people vaine. These eight dayes no man doth require his dettes of any man, Their tables do they furnish out with all the meate they can: With Marchpaynes, Tartes, and Custards great, they drink with staring eyes, They rowte and revell, feede and feast, as merry all as Pyes: As if they should at th' entrance of this newe yeare hap to die, Yet would they have theyr bellyes full, and auncient friendes allie. |
The custom of mutual gifts on this day still obtains in England, but is in great force in France. Here it was general among all classes, and many are the notices of presents to Royalty, but nowadays a present at Christmas has very greatly superseded the old custom. We owe the term "pin-money" to the gift of pins at this season. They were expensive articles, and occasionally money was given as a commutation. Gloves were, as they are now, always an acceptable present, but to those who were not overburdened with this world's goods an orange stuck with cloves was deemed sufficient for a New Year's gift.
The tradition of giving gifts on this day still exists in England, but it's much stronger in France. It used to be common among all social classes, and there are many records of gifts given to royalty. However, these days, giving gifts at Christmas has largely replaced the old custom. The term "pin-money" comes from the practice of giving pins during this season. Pins were expensive items, and sometimes money was given instead. Gloves have always been a welcome gift, just like today, but for those who didn't have much, an orange studded with cloves was considered an adequate New Year's gift.
Among the many superstitious customs which used to obtain in England was a kind of "Sortes Virgilianæ," or divination, as to the coming year. Only the Bible was the[Pg 222] medium, and the operation was termed "dipping." The ceremony usually took place before breakfast, as it was absolutely necessary that the rite should be performed fasting. The Bible was laid upon a table, and opened haphazard, a finger being placed, without premeditation, upon a verse, and the future for the coming year was dependent upon the sense of the verse pitched upon. A correspondent in Notes and Queries (2 ser. xii. 303) writes: "About eight years ago I was staying in a little village in Oxfordshire on the first day of the year, and happening to pass by a cottage where an old woman lived whom I knew well, I stepped in, and wished her 'A Happy New Year.' Instead of replying to my salutation, she stared wildly at me, and exclaimed in a horrified tone, 'New Year's Day! and I have never dipped.' Not having the slightest idea of her meaning, I asked for an explanation, and gathered from her that it was customary to dip into the Bible before twelve o'clock on New Year's Day, and the first verse that met the eye indicated the good or bad fortune of the inquirer through the ensuing year. My old friend added: 'Last year I dipped, and I opened on Job, and sure enough, I have had nought but trouble ever since.' Her consternation on receiving my good wishes was in consequence of her having let the opportunity of dipping go by for that year, it being past twelve o'clock."
Among the many superstitious customs that used to exist in England was a type of "Sortes Virgilianæ," or divination, for the upcoming year. The Bible was the[Pg 222] medium, and the practice was called "dipping." This ceremony typically took place before breakfast, as it was absolutely essential to perform the rite on an empty stomach. The Bible was placed on a table and opened randomly, with a finger being pointed, without any forethought, at a verse, and the future for the coming year depended on the meaning of the chosen verse. A contributor in Notes and Queries (2 ser. xii. 303) wrote: "About eight years ago, I was in a small village in Oxfordshire on New Year's Day, and while passing by a cottage where I knew an elderly woman, I stopped in to wish her 'A Happy New Year.' Instead of responding to my greeting, she looked at me in shock and said in a horrified tone, 'New Year's Day! and I have never dipped.' Confused about her meaning, I asked for an explanation and learned that it was customary to dip into the Bible before noon on New Year's Day, and the first verse one saw indicated whether the coming year would be good or bad for the person. My old friend added, 'Last year I dipped, and I opened to Job, and sure enough, I’ve had nothing but trouble ever since.' Her shock at my good wishes was because she had missed her chance to dip that year, as it was already after noon."
Another singular custom which used to obtain in Cumberland and Westmoreland is noted in a letter in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1791, vol. lxi., part ii. p. 1169: "Early in the morning of the first of January the Fæx Populi assemble together, carrying stangs[86] and baskets. Any inhabitant, stranger, or whoever joins not this ruffian tribe in sacrificing to their favourite Saint day, if unfortunate enough to be met by any of the band, is immediately mounted across the stang (if a woman, she is basketed), and carried, shoulder height, to the nearest public-house, where the payment of sixpence immediately liberates the prisoner. No respect is paid to any person; the cobler on that day thinks himself equal to the parson, who generally gets mounted like the rest of his[Pg 223] flock; whilst one of his porters boasts and prides himself in having, but just before, got the Squire across the pole. None, though ever so industriously inclined, are permitted to follow their respective avocations on that day."
Another unique tradition that used to take place in Cumberland and Westmoreland is described in a letter in the Gentleman's Magazine from 1791, vol. lxi., part ii. p. 1169: "Early on the morning of January 1st, the Fæx Populi gather together, carrying stangs[86] and baskets. Anyone—local resident, visitor, or anyone else—who does not join this wild group in celebrating their favorite Saint's day, if unfortunate enough to be encountered by any of them, is immediately mounted across the stang (if a woman, she is placed in a basket) and carried, at shoulder height, to the nearest pub, where paying sixpence immediately frees the captive. No one is treated with respect; on that day, the cobbler believes himself equal to the parson, who usually ends up being mounted like the rest of his[Pg 223] followers; meanwhile, one of his porters boasts and takes pride in having just captured the Squire across the pole. No one, no matter how industrious, is allowed to pursue their usual work on that day."
Blount, in his Tenures of Land, etc., gives a very curious tenure by which the Manor of Essington, Staffordshire, was held; the lord of which manor (either by himself, deputy, or steward) oweth, and is obliged yearly to perform, service to the lord of the Manor of Hilton, a village about a mile distant from this manor. The Lord of Essington is to bring a goose every New Year's day, and drive it round the fire, at least three times, whilst Jack of Hilton is blowing the fire. This Jack of Hilton is an image of brass, of about twelve inches high, having a little hole at the mouth, at which, being filled with water, and set to a strong fire, which makes it evaporate like an æolipole, it vents itself in a constant blast, so strongly that it is very audible, and blows the fire fiercely.
Blount, in his Tenures of Land, etc., describes a fascinating tenure for the Manor of Essington in Staffordshire. The lord of this manor (whether by himself, a deputy, or a steward) is required each year to provide service to the lord of the Manor of Hilton, a village about a mile away. The Lord of Essington must bring a goose every New Year's Day and drive it around the fire at least three times while Jack of Hilton stokes the flames. Jack of Hilton is a brass statue, about twelve inches tall, with a small hole in its mouth. When filled with water and placed over a strong fire, it evaporates like an æolipole, creating a continuous blast that is loud enough to be heard and causes the fire to blaze fiercely.
When the Lord of Essington has done his duty, and the other things are performed, he carries his goose into the kitchen of Hilton Hall, and delivers it to the cook, who, having dressed it, the Lord of Essington, or his deputy, by way of farther service, is to carry it to the table of the lord paramount of Hilton and Essington, and receives a dish from the Lord of Hilton's table for his own mess, and so departs.
When the Lord of Essington has completed his responsibilities, and everything else is taken care of, he brings his goose into the kitchen of Hilton Hall and hands it over to the cook. After the cook prepares it, the Lord of Essington, or his representative, is to take it to the table of the lord paramount of Hilton and Essington. In return, he receives a dish from the Lord of Hilton's table for his own meal and then leaves.
He also gives a curious tenure at Hutton Conyers, Yorkshire: "Near this town, which lies a few miles from Ripon, there is a large common, called Hutton Conyers Moor.... The occupiers of messuages and cottages within the several towns of Hutton Conyers, Melmerby, Baldersby, Rainton, Dishforth, and Hewick have right of estray for their sheep to certain limited boundaries on the common, and each township has a shepherd.
He also provides an interesting account of Hutton Conyers, Yorkshire: "Near this town, located a few miles from Ripon, there is a large common area called Hutton Conyers Moor.... The residents of homes and cottages in the towns of Hutton Conyers, Melmerby, Baldersby, Rainton, Dishforth, and Hewick have the right to graze their sheep within certain defined boundaries on the common, and each township has its own shepherd.
"The lord's shepherd has a pre-eminence of tending his sheep on any part of the common, and, wherever he herds the lord's sheep, the several other shepherds have to give way to him, and give up their hoofing place, so long as he pleases to depasture the lord's sheep thereon. The lord holds his court the first day in the year, and, to entitle those several townships to such right of estray, the shepherd of each township attends the court, and does fealty by bringing to the[Pg 224] court a large apple-pie and a twopenny sweet cake, except the shepherd of Hewick, who compounds by paying sixteenpence for ale (which is drunk as aftermentioned) and a wooden spoon; each pie is cut in two, and divided by the bailiff, one half between the steward, bailiff, and the tenant of a coney warren, and the other half into six parts, and divided amongst the six shepherds of the beforementioned six townships. In the pie brought by the shepherd of Rainton, an inner one is made, filled with prunes. The cakes are divided in the same manner. The bailiff of the manor provides furmety and mustard, and delivers to each shepherd a slice of cheese and a penny roll. The furmety, well mixed with mustard, is put into an earthen pot, and placed in a hole in the ground in a garth belonging to the bailiff's house, to which place the steward of the court, with the bailiff, tenant of the warren, and six shepherds adjourn, with their respective wooden spoons. The bailiff provides spoons for the steward, the tenant of the warren, and himself. The steward first pays respect to the furmety by taking a large spoonful; the bailiff has the next honour, the tenant of the warren next, then the shepherd of Hutton Conyers, and afterwards the other shepherds by regular turns; then each person is served with a glass of ale (paid for by the sixteenpence brought by the Hewick shepherd), and the health of the Lord of the Manor is drunk; then they adjourn back to the bailiff's house, and the further business of the court is proceeded with."
"The lord's shepherd has priority in taking care of his sheep on any part of the common land, and wherever he herds the lord's sheep, the other shepherds must yield to him and give up their space for as long as he wants to graze the lord's sheep there. The lord holds his court on the first day of the year, and to grant those townships the right to stray animals, each township's shepherd attends the court and shows loyalty by bringing a large apple-pie and a two-penny sweet cake, except for the shepherd of Hewick, who pays sixteen pence for ale (which is consumed as mentioned later) and a wooden spoon; each pie is cut in two, split by the bailiff, with one half going to the steward, bailiff, and the tenant of a rabbit warren, while the other half is divided into six parts for the six shepherds of the previously mentioned six townships. The pie brought by the shepherd of Rainton includes an inner pie filled with prunes. The cakes are divided the same way. The bailiff of the manor provides furmety and mustard and gives each shepherd a slice of cheese and a penny roll. The furmety, well mixed with mustard, is placed in an earthen pot and buried in a hole in the ground in the yard of the bailiff's house, where the steward of the court, along with the bailiff, the tenant of the warren, and the six shepherds, gathers with their respective wooden spoons. The bailiff supplies spoons for the steward, the tenant of the warren, and himself. The steward takes the first scoop of furmety to pay his respects; then the bailiff takes the next, followed by the tenant of the warren, the shepherd of Hutton Conyers, and then the other shepherds take turns; after that, everyone is served a glass of ale (paid for by the sixteen pence from the Hewick shepherd), and they toast to the health of the Lord of the Manor before returning to the bailiff's house to continue with the court's business."
The question was asked (Notes and Queries, 2 ser. ii. 229), but never answered, Whether any reader could give information respecting the ancient custom in the city of Coventry of sending God Cakes on the first day of the year? "They are used by all classes, and vary in price from a halfpenny to one pound. They are invariably made in a triangular shape, an inch thick, and filled with a kind of mince meat. I believe the custom is peculiar to that city, and should be glad to know more about its origin. So general is the use of them on January 1st, that the cheaper sorts are hawked about the streets, as hot Cross buns are on Good Friday in London."
The question was raised (Notes and Queries, 2 ser. ii. 229), but never answered, whether any reader could provide information about the old tradition in Coventry of sending God Cakes on New Year's Day. "They are enjoyed by people of all backgrounds and range in price from half a penny to one pound. They are always made in a triangular shape, about an inch thick, and filled with a type of minced meat. I believe this custom is unique to that city, and I would love to learn more about its origins. The use of these on January 1st is so widespread that the cheaper versions are sold on the streets, like hot cross buns are on Good Friday in London."
In Nottinghamshire it is considered unlucky to take anything out of a house on New Year's day before something[Pg 225] has been brought in; consequently, as early as possible in the morning, each member of the family brings in some trifle. Near Newark this rhyme is sung:—
In Nottinghamshire, it's considered bad luck to take anything out of a house on New Year's Day before bringing something in first; so, as early as possible in the morning, each family member brings in some small item. Near Newark, this rhyme is sung:—
Take out, and take in, Bad luck is sure to begin; But take in and take out, Good luck will come about. |
Train, in his History of the Isle of Man (ed. 1845, vol. ii. 115), says that on 1st January an old custom is observed, called the quaaltagh. In almost every parish throughout the island a party of young men go from house to house singing the following rhyme:—
Train, in his History of the Isle of Man (ed. 1845, vol. ii. 115), says that on January 1st an old tradition is followed, called the quaaltagh. In nearly every parish on the island, a group of young men goes from house to house singing this rhyme:—
Again we assemble, a merry New Year To wish to each one of the family here, Whether man, woman, or girl, or boy, That long life and happiness all may enjoy; May they of potatoes and herrings have plenty, With butter and cheese, and each other dainty; And may their sleep never, by night or day, Disturbed be by even the tooth of a flea: Until at the Quaaltagh again we appear, To wish you, as now, all a happy New Year. |
When these lines are repeated at the door, the whole party are invited into the house to partake of the best the family can afford. On these occasions a person of dark complexion always enters first, as a light-haired male or female is deemed unlucky to be the first-foot, or quaaltagh, on New Year's morning. The actors of the quaaltagh do not assume fantastic habiliments like the Mummers of England, or the Guisards of Scotland; nor do they, like these rude performers of the Ancient Mysteries, appear ever to have been attended by minstrels playing on different kinds of musical instruments.
When these lines are repeated at the door, everyone is invited into the house to enjoy the best the family can offer. On these occasions, a dark-complexioned person always enters first, as a light-haired man or woman is considered unlucky to be the first-foot, or quaaltagh, on New Year's morning. The participants of the quaaltagh don’t wear outrageous costumes like the Mummers of England or the Guisards of Scotland; nor do they, like those primitive performers of the Ancient Mysteries, seem to have ever been accompanied by musicians playing various kinds of instruments.
The custom of first-footing is still in vogue in many parts of Scotland, although a very good authority, Chambers's Book of Days (vol. i. p. 28), says it is dying out:—
The tradition of first-footing is still popular in many areas of Scotland, even though a reliable source, Chambers's Book of Days (vol. i. p. 28), claims it's fading away:—
"Till very few years ago in Scotland the custom of the wassail bowl, at the passing away of the old year, might be said to be still in comparative vigour. On the approach of[Pg 226] twelve o'clock a hot pint was prepared—that is, a kettle or flagon full of warm, spiced, and sweetened ale, with an infusion of spirits. When the clock had struck the knell of the departed year, each member of the family drank of this mixture, 'A good health and a happy New Year, and many of them!' to all the rest, with a general hand-shaking, and perhaps a dance round the table, with the addition of a song to the tune of Hey tuttie taitie—
"Until just a few years ago in Scotland, the tradition of the wassail bowl during the transition from the old year was still quite lively. As midnight approached, a hot pint was made—that is, a kettle or jug filled with warm, spiced, and sweetened ale, mixed with some spirits. When the clock chimed to mark the end of the year, each family member sipped from this drink, saying, 'Cheers to a good health, a happy New Year, and many more to come!' while shaking hands with everyone and maybe even dancing around the table, accompanied by a song to the tune of Hey tuttie taitie—
"Weel may we a' be, Ill may we never see, Here's to the King And the gude companie! etc. |
"The elders of the family would then most probably sally out, with the hot kettle, and bearing also a competent provision of buns and short cakes, or bread and cheese, with the design of visiting their neighbours, and interchanging with them the same cordial greetings. If they met by the way another party similarly bent whom they knew, they would stop, and give and take sips from their respective kettles. Reaching the friends' house, they would enter with vociferous good wishes, and soon send the kettle a-circulating. If they were the first to enter the house since twelve o'clock, they were deemed the first-foot; and, as such, it was most important, for luck to the family in the coming year, that they should make their entry, not empty-handed, but with their hands full of cakes, and bread and cheese; of which, on the other hand, civility demanded that each individual in the house should partake.
The family elders would likely head out with the hot kettle, along with a good supply of buns, short cakes, or bread and cheese, planning to visit their neighbors and exchange friendly greetings. If they encountered another similar group they recognized along the way, they would stop and share sips from their respective kettles. Upon reaching their friends' house, they would enter with loud well-wishes and quickly pass the kettle around. If they were the first to arrive at the house since noon, they were considered the first-foot; this was very important for bringing luck to the family in the upcoming year, so they needed to enter not empty-handed but with their arms full of cakes, bread, and cheese, which etiquette required everyone in the house to share.
"To such an extent did this custom prevail in Edinburgh, in the recollection of persons still living, that, according to their account, the principal streets were more thronged between twelve and one in the morning than they usually were at mid-day. Much innocent mirth prevailed, and mutual good feelings were largely promoted. An unlucky circumstance, which took place on the 1st January of 1812, proved the means of nearly extinguishing the custom. A small party of reckless boys formed the design of turning the innocent festivities of first-footing to account, for the purposes of plunder. They kept their counsel well. No sooner[Pg 227] had the people come abroad on the principal thoroughfares of the Old Town, than these youths sallied out in small bands, and commenced the business which they had undertaken. Their previous agreement was—to look out for the white neckcloths, such being the best mark by which they could distinguish, in the dark, individuals likely to carry any property worthy of being taken. A great number of gentlemen were thus spoiled of their watches and other valuables. The least resistance was resented by the most brutal maltreatment. A policeman and a young man of the rank of a clerk in Leith died of the injuries they had received. An affair so singular, so uncharacteristic of the people among whom it happened, produced a widespread and lasting feeling of surprise. The outrage was expiated by the execution of three of the youthful rioters on the chief scene of their wickedness; but from that time it was observed that the old custom of going about with the hot pint—the ancient wassail—fell off....
"To such an extent did this tradition take hold in Edinburgh, according to the memories of people still alive, that, as they recount, the main streets were busier between twelve and one in the morning than they usually were at midday. There was a lot of innocent fun, and mutual good feelings were strongly encouraged. An unfortunate incident that occurred on January 1, 1812, almost put an end to this custom. A small group of reckless boys plotted to take advantage of the innocent celebrations of first-footing for theft. They kept their plan secret. As soon as people filled the main streets of the Old Town, these youths came out in small groups and began their scheme. Their prior agreement was to look out for the white neckcloths, which were the best way to identify, in the dark, individuals likely to have valuable items. Many gentlemen were robbed of their watches and other valuables. Any resistance was met with brutal violence. A policeman and a young clerk from Leith died from their injuries. An incident so unusual and uncharacteristic of the local people caused widespread and lasting shock. The outrage was addressed by executing three of the young rioters at the main location of their crime; however, from that point on, it was noted that the old tradition of carrying the hot pint—the ancient wassail—started to decline...."
"There was, in Scotland, a first-footing independent of the hot pint. It was a time for some youthful friend of the family to steal to the door, in the hope of meeting there the young maiden of his fancy, and obtaining the privilege of a kiss, as her first-foot. Great was the disappointment on his part, and great the joking among the family, if, through accident or plan, some half-withered aunt or ancient grand-dame came to receive him instead of the blooming Jenny."
"There was, in Scotland, a first-footing that didn't involve the hot pint. It was a time for a young friend of the family to sneak to the door, hoping to find the young woman he admired and get the chance for a kiss as her first-foot. He was greatly disappointed, and the family had a lot of fun teasing him if, by chance or design, some elderly aunt or ancient grandmother greeted him instead of the lovely Jenny."
In Sir T.D. Hardy's Memoirs of Lord Langdale (1852, vol. i., p. 55) is the following extract from a letter dated 1st January 1802. "Being in Scotland, I ought to tell you of Scotch customs; and really they have a charming one on this occasion (i.e. New Year's day). Whether it is meant as a farewell ceremony to the old one, or an introduction to the New Year, I can't tell; but on the 31st of December almost everybody has a party, either to dine or sup. The company, almost entirely consisting of young people, wait together till twelve o'clock strikes, at which time every one begins to move, and they all fall to work. At what? why, kissing. Each male is successively locked in pure Platonic embrace with each female; and after this grand ceremony, which, of course, creates infinite fun, they separate and go home. This[Pg 228] matter is not at all confined to these, but wherever man meets woman it is the peculiar privilege of this hour. The common people think it necessary to drink what they call hot pint, which consists of strong beer, whisky, eggs, etc., a most horrid composition, as bad or worse than that infamous mixture called fig-one,[87] which the English people drink on Good Friday."
In Sir T.D. Hardy's Memoirs of Lord Langdale (1852, vol. i., p. 55) is the following extract from a letter dated January 1, 1802. "While I'm in Scotland, I should mention some Scottish traditions; and they actually have a delightful one for this occasion (i.e., New Year's Day). Whether it's meant as a farewell to the old year or a welcome to the new one, I'm not sure. But on December 31, nearly everyone throws a party, either for dinner or a late-night meal. The guests, mostly young people, gather together until the clock strikes twelve, at which point everyone gets moving and starts the festivities. What do they do? Well, it's all about kissing. Each guy takes turns embracing each girl in a purely friendly way, and after this fun tradition—which, of course, leads to a lot of laughter—they head home. This behavior isn’t limited to just them; wherever a man meets a woman, this is a special privilege of the hour. The common folks feel it's essential to drink what they call hot pint, which is a horrible mix of strong beer, whiskey, eggs, and more—a truly dreadful concoction, as bad or worse than that infamous drink known as fig-one,[87] that the English consume on Good Friday."
Pennant tells us, in his Tour in Scotland, that on New Year's day the Highlanders burned juniper before their cattle; and Stewart, in Popular Superstitions of the Highlanders of Scotland, says, as soon as the last night of the year sets in, it is the signal with the Strathdown Highlander for the suspension of his usual employment, and he directs his attention to more agreeable callings. The men form into bands, with tethers and axes, and, shaping their course to the juniper bushes, they return home with mighty loads, which are arranged round the fire to dry until morning. A certain discreet person is despatched to the dead and living ford, to draw a pitcher of water in profound silence, without the vessel touching the ground, lest its virtue should be destroyed, and on his return all retire to rest.
Pennant tells us, in his Tour in Scotland, that on New Year's Day the Highlanders burned juniper in front of their cattle; and Stewart, in Popular Superstitions of the Highlanders of Scotland, says that as soon as the last night of the year begins, it's the signal for the Strathdown Highlander to stop his usual work and focus on more enjoyable activities. The men form groups, equipped with tethers and axes, and heading towards the juniper bushes, they come back home with heavy loads, which are piled around the fire to dry until morning. A careful person is sent to the dead and living ford to quietly collect a pitcher of water without letting the container touch the ground, to preserve its purity, and upon his return, everyone goes to sleep.
Early on New Year's morning, the usque-cashrichd, or water from the dead and living ford, is drunk, as a potent charm until next New Year's day, against the spells of witchcraft, the malignity of evil eyes, and the activity of all infernal agency. The qualified Highlander then takes a large brush, with which he profusely asperses the occupants of all beds, from whom it is not unusual for him to receive ungrateful remonstrances against ablution. This ended, and the doors and windows being thoroughly closed, and all crevices stopped, he kindles piles of the collected juniper in the different apartments, till the vapour collected from the burning branches condenses into opaque clouds, and coughing, sneezing, wheezing, gasping, and other demonstrations of suffocation ensue. The operator, aware that the more intense the smuchdan, the more propitious the solemnity,[Pg 229] disregards these indications, and continues, with streaming eyes and averted head, to increase the fumigation, until, in his own defence, he admits the air to recover the exhausted household and himself. He then treats the horses, cattle, and other bestial stock in the town with the same smothering, to keep them from harm throughout the year.
Early on New Year's morning, the usque-cashrichd, or water from the dead and living ford, is consumed as a powerful charm until next New Year's day, protecting against witchcraft, the malice of evil eyes, and the work of all infernal forces. The designated Highlander then takes a large brush and generously sprinkles the occupants of all the beds, often receiving ungrateful complaints about the washing. Once that’s done, and the doors and windows are tightly shut with all gaps blocked, he lights piles of collected juniper in the different rooms, until the smoke from the burning branches condenses into thick clouds, causing coughing, sneezing, wheezing, gasping, and other signs of suffocation. The person performing the task, knowing that the stronger the smuchdan, the more favorable the event, disregards these signs and continues, with streaming eyes and turned head, to increase the smoke, until, in self-defense, he allows fresh air to revive the exhausted household and himself. He then treats the horses, cattle, and other livestock in the town with the same smoky ritual, to protect them from harm throughout the year.
When the gudewife gets up, and having ceased from coughing, has gained sufficient strength to reach the bottle dhu, she administers its comfort to the relief of the sufferers; laughter takes the place of complaint, all the family get up, wash their faces, and receive the visits of their neighbours, who arrive full of congratulations peculiar to the day. Mu nase choil orst, "My Candlemas bond upon you," is the customary salutation, and means, in plain words, "You owe me a New Year's gift." A point of great emulation is, who shall salute the other first, because the one who does so is entitled to a gift from the person saluted. Breakfast, consisting of all procurable luxuries, is then served, the neighbours not engaged are invited to partake, and the day ends in festivity.
When the wife gets up, and after stopping her coughing, has gained enough strength to reach the bottle dhu, she gives its soothing effect to those in need; laughter replaces complaints, everyone in the family gets up, washes their faces, and welcomes their neighbors, who arrive with congratulations for the day. Mu nase choil orst, "My Candlemas bond upon you," is the traditional greeting, meaning in simple terms, "You owe me a New Year's gift." A big point of competition is who will greet the other first, because the one who does is entitled to receive a gift from the person they greet. Breakfast, made up of all kinds of available treats, is then served, and the neighbors who aren't busy are invited to join, ending the day in celebration.
Of New Year's customs in Ireland a correspondent in Notes and Queries (5 ser. iii. 7), writes: "On New Year's day I observed boys running about the suburbs at the County Down side of Belfast, carrying little twisted wisps of straw, which they offer to persons whom they meet, or throw into houses as New Year Offerings, and expect in return to get any small present, such as a little money, or a piece of bread.
Of New Year's customs in Ireland, a writer in Notes and Queries (5 ser. iii. 7) says: "On New Year's Day, I saw boys running around the outskirts on the County Down side of Belfast, carrying small twisted bundles of straw. They offer these to people they meet or throw them into houses as New Year gifts, expecting to receive something small in return, like a bit of money or a piece of bread."
"About Glenarm, on the coast of County Antrim, the 'wisp' is not used; but on this day the boys go about from house to house, and are regaled with 'bannocks' of oaten bread, buttered; these bannocks are baked specially for the occasion, and are commonly small, thick, and round, and with a hole through the centre. Any person who enters a house at Glenarm on this day must either eat or drink before leaving it."
"About Glenarm, on the coast of County Antrim, the 'wisp' isn’t used; but on this day, the boys go from house to house and are treated to buttered oat cakes. These cakes are specially baked for the occasion and are usually small, thick, and round, with a hole in the center. Anyone who enters a house in Glenarm on this day must eat or drink something before leaving."
It is only natural that auguries for the weather of the year should be drawn from that on which New Year's day falls, and not only so, but, as at Christmas, the weather for the ensuing year was materially influenced, according to the day[Pg 230] in the week on which this commencement of another year happened to fall. It is, however, satisfactory to have persons able to tell us all about it, and thus saith Digges, in his Prognosticacion Everlasting, of ryghte goode Effect, Lond., 1596, 4to.
It makes sense that predictions about the weather for the year are based on the conditions of New Year's Day. Furthermore, just like at Christmas, the weather for the coming year is significantly affected by the day of the week that New Year's falls on. Fortunately, there are people who can explain all of this, and Digges states in his Prognosticacion Everlasting, of ryghte goode Effect, Lond., 1596, 4to.
"It is affirmed by some, when New Yeare's day falleth on the Sunday, then a pleasant winter doth ensue: a naturall summer: fruite sufficient: harvest indifferent, yet some winde and raine: many marriages: plentie of wine and honey; death of young men and cattell: robberies in most places: newes of prelates, of kinges; and cruell warres in the end.
"It is said that when New Year's Day falls on a Sunday, a nice winter follows: a natural summer: enough fruit: a decent harvest, though some wind and rain: many weddings: plenty of wine and honey; deaths of young men and cattle: robberies in most places: news about bishops and kings; and cruel wars in the end."
"On Monday, a winter somewhat uncomfortable; summer temperate: no plentie of fruite: many fansies and fables opened: agues shall reigne: kings and many others shall dye: marriages shall be in most places: and a common fall of gentlemen.
"On Monday, it’s a bit chilly for winter; summer's nice: not much fruit around: many ideas and stories will unfold: fevers will be common: kings and many others will die: there will be marriages in most places: and a general decline of gentlemen."
"On Tuesday, a stormie winter: a wet summer: a divers harvest: corne and fruite indifferent, yet hearbes in gardens shall not flourish: great sicknesse of men, women, and yong children. Beasts shall hunger, starve, and dye of the botch; many shippes, gallies, and hulkes shall be lost; and the bloodie flixes shall kill many men; all things deare, save corne.
"On Tuesday, a stormy winter: a wet summer: a varied harvest: corn and fruit will be mediocre, yet herbs in gardens will not thrive: many people, women, and young children will be seriously ill. Animals will suffer hunger, starve, and die from disease; many ships, galleys, and boats will be lost; and the bloody flux will kill many people; everything will be expensive, except for corn."
"On Wednesday, lo, a warme winter; in the end, snowe and frost: a cloudie summer, plentie of fruite, corne, hay, wine, and honey: great paine to women with childe, and death to infants: good for sheepe: news of kinges: great warres: battell, and slaughter towards the middell.
"On Wednesday, wow, a warm winter; in the end, snow and frost: a cloudy summer, plenty of fruit, grain, hay, wine, and honey: a lot of trouble for pregnant women, and death for infants: good for sheep: news of kings: major wars: battles, and slaughter by mid-season."
"On Thursday, winter and summer windie; a rainie harveste: therefore wee shall have overflowings: much fruite: plentie of honey: yet flesh shall be deare: cattell in general shall dye: great trouble; warres, etc.: with a licencious life of the feminine sexe.
"On Thursday, the winds of winter and summer blew; a rainy harvest: therefore we will have floods: plenty of fruit: lots of honey: yet meat will be expensive: livestock in general will die: great trouble; wars, etc.: along with a reckless lifestyle among women."
"On Friday, winter stormie: summer scant and pleasant: harvest indifferent: little store of fruite, of wine and honey: corne deare: many bleare eyes: youth shall dye: earthquakes are perceived in many places: plentie of thunders, lightnings and tempestes: with a sudden death of cattell.
"On Friday, a winter storm: summer short and nice: harvest unimportant: little store of fruit, wine, and honey: grain expensive: many bloodshot eyes: youth shall die: earthquakes are felt in many places: plenty of thunder, lightning, and storms: with a sudden death of cattle."
"On Saturday, a mean winter: summer very hot: a late harvest: good cheape garden hearbs: much burning: plentie[Pg 231] of hempe, flax and honey. Old folke shall dye in most places: fevers and tercians shall grieve many people: great muttering of warres: murthers shall be suddenly committed in many places for light matters."
"On Saturday, a harsh winter: summer was really hot: a late harvest: good, cheap garden herbs: a lot of burning: plenty[Pg 231] of hemp, flax, and honey. Older people will die in most areas: fevers and recurring illnesses will trouble many: great unrest about wars: murders will suddenly happen in many places over trivial matters."
In Scotland the first Monday is kept as a great holiday among servants and children, to whom Handsel Monday, as it is called, is analogous to Boxing Day in England, when all expect some little present in token of affection, or in recognition of services rendered during the past year. In the rural districts Auld Handsel Monday—that is, the first Monday after the twelfth of the month—is kept in preference. It is also a day for hiring servants for another year, and at farm-houses, after a good substantial breakfast, the remainder of the day is spent as a holiday.
In Scotland, the first Monday is celebrated as a big holiday for servants and children, known as Handsel Monday, similar to Boxing Day in England, when everyone expects a small gift as a sign of affection or recognition for the services they provided over the past year. In rural areas, Auld Handsel Monday—the first Monday after the twelfth of the month—is more commonly observed. It is also a day for hiring servants for another year, and at farmhouses, after a hearty breakfast, the rest of the day is enjoyed as a holiday.
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CHAPTER 30 Eve of Twelfth Day—Thirteen Fires—Tossing the Cake—Wassailing Apple-Trees—The Eve in Ireland—Twelfth Day, or Epiphany—Carol for the Day—Royal Offerings. |
The 5th of January is the eve of the Epiphany, and the Vigil of Twelfth day, which used to be celebrated by the liberal use of the customary wassail bowl. In the Gentleman's Magazine for 1791, p. 116, we get a good account of the customs in Herefordshire on that night. "On the eve of Twelfth day, at the approach of evening, the farmers, their friends, servants, etc., all assemble; and near six o'clock, all walk together to a field where wheat is growing. The highest part of the ground is always chosen, where twelve small fires and one large one are lighted up. The attendants, headed by the master of the family, pledge the company in old cider, which circulates freely on these occasions. A circle is formed round the large fire, when a general shout and hallooing takes place, which you hear answered from all the villages and fields near, as I have myself counted fifty or sixty fires burning at the same time, which are generally placed on some eminence. This being finished, the company all return to the house, where the good housewife and her maids are preparing a good supper, which on this occasion is very plentiful.
The 5th of January is the eve of the Epiphany and the Vigil of Twelfth Night, traditionally celebrated with a generous serving from the wassail bowl. In the Gentleman's Magazine from 1791, p. 116, there's a detailed description of the customs in Herefordshire for that night. "On the eve of Twelfth Night, as evening approaches, the farmers, their friends, servants, and others gather together; around six o'clock, everyone walks to a field where wheat is growing. They always choose the highest point, where twelve small fires and one large fire are lit. Led by the head of the family, everyone toasts with old cider, which flows freely during these events. A circle is formed around the large fire, and everyone shouts and cheers, a response that echoes from all the surrounding villages and fields. I’ve counted as many as fifty or sixty fires burning at the same time, usually placed on a hilltop. After this, the group returns to the house, where the good housewife and her helpers prepare a hearty supper, which is quite abundant for the occasion."
"A large cake is always provided, with a hole in the middle. After supper, the company all attend the bailiff (or head of the oxen) to the Wain house, where the following particulars are observed: the master, at the head of his friends, fills the cup (generally of strong ale), and stands opposite the first or finest of the oxen (twenty-four of which[Pg 233] I have often seen tied up in their stalls together); he then pledges him in a curious toast; the company then follow his example with all the other oxen, addressing each by their name. This being over, the large cake is produced, and is with much ceremony put on the horn of the first ox, through the hole in the cake; he is then tickled to make him toss his head: if he throws the cake behind, it is the mistress's perquisite; if before (in what is termed the boosy), the bailiff claims the prize. This ended, the company all return to the house, the doors of which are in the meantime locked, and not opened till some joyous songs are sung. On entering, a scene of mirth and jollity commences, and reigns through the house till a late hour the next morning. Cards are introduced, and the merry tale goes round. I have often enjoyed the hospitality, friendship, and harmony I have been witness to on these occasions."
A big cake is always there, with a hole in the middle. After dinner, everyone goes with the bailiff (or the head of the oxen) to the barn, where the following things happen: the master, leading his friends, fills the cup (usually with strong ale) and stands in front of the first or best ox (I’ve often seen twenty-four of them[Pg 233] tied up in their stalls together); then he makes a unique toast to it. The guests then do the same for all the other oxen, calling each by name. Once that’s done, the big cake is brought out and is ceremoniously placed on the horn of the first ox, through the hole in the cake; then it’s tickled to make it toss its head: if it throws the cake backward, it’s the mistress's prize; if it goes forward (what’s called the boosy), the bailiff claims it. After that, everyone goes back to the house, which is locked up in the meantime, and won’t open until some joyful songs are sung. When they enter, the atmosphere is filled with fun and cheer that lasts until late the next morning. Cards come out, and the cheerful stories circulate. I’ve often enjoyed the hospitality, friendship, and harmony I’ve witnessed at these gatherings.
On p. 403 of the same volume another correspondent writes as to the custom on Twelfth day eve in Devonshire. "On the Eve of the Epiphany the farmer, attended by his workmen, with a large pitcher of cyder, goes to the orchard, and there, encircling one of the best-bearing trees, they drink the following toast three several times:—
On p. 403 of the same volume, another writer talks about the tradition on Twelfth Night eve in Devonshire. "On the Eve of the Epiphany, the farmer, accompanied by his workers, takes a large pitcher of cider to the orchard, and there, gathered around one of the best-producing trees, they toast three times with the following words:—
"Here's to thee, old apple tree, Whence thou may'st bud, and whence thou may'st blow! And whence thou may'st 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 entreaties 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 tit-bit as his recompence. Some are so superstitious as to believe that, if they neglect this custom, the trees will bear no apples that year."
"After this, they go back to the house, where they’re sure to find the doors locked by the women, who, no matter the weather, refuse to let anyone in until someone guesses what’s cooking on the spit. It’s usually something tasty and tricky to guess, and the first person to name it gets a reward. Once someone guesses correctly, the doors are swung open, and the lucky person gets the treat as their prize. Some people are so superstitious that they think if they skip this tradition, the trees won’t produce any apples that year."
Referring to these customs, Cuthbert Bede remarks (Notes[Pg 234] and Queries, 2 ser. viii. 448): "A farmer's wife told me that where she had lived in Herefordshire, twenty years ago, they were wont, on Twelfth Night Eve, to light in a wheat field twelve small fires, and one large one.... She told me that they were designed to represent the blessed Saviour and his twelve Apostles. The fire representing Judas Iscariot, after being allowed to burn for a brief time, was kicked about, and put out.... The same person also told me that the ceremony of placing the twelfth cake on the horn of the ox was observed in all the particulars.... It was twenty years since she had left the farm, and she had forgotten all the words of the toast used on that occasion: she could only remember one verse out of three or four:—
Referring to these customs, Cuthbert Bede notes (Notes[Pg 234] and Queries, 2 ser. viii. 448): "A farmer's wife told me that when she lived in Herefordshire, twenty years ago, they used to light twelve small fires and one large fire in a wheat field on Twelfth Night Eve.... She explained that these were meant to represent the blessed Savior and his twelve Apostles. The fire representing Judas Iscariot, after burning for a short time, was kicked around and put out.... The same person also mentioned that the tradition of placing the twelfth cake on the ox's horn was followed in every detail.... It had been twenty years since she left the farm, and she had forgotten all the words of the toast used at that time; she could only recall one line from three or four:—
"Fill your cups, my merry men all! For here's the best ox in the stall; Oh! he's the best ox, of that there's no mistake, And so let us crown him with the Twelfth Cake." |
The Derby and Chesterfield Reporter of 7th January 1830 gives the following notice of the Herefordshire customs: "On the eve of Old Christmas day there are thirteen fires lighted in the cornfields of many of the farms, twelve of them in a circle, and one round a pole, much longer and higher than the rest, in the centre. These fires are dignified by the names of the Virgin Mary and the Twelve Apostles, the lady being in the middle; and while they are burning, the labourers retire into some shed or out-house, where they can behold the brightness of the Apostolic flame. Into this shed they lead a cow, on whose horn a large plum cake has been stuck, and having assembled round the animal, the oldest labourer takes a pail of cider, and addresses the following lines to the cow with great solemnity; after which the verse is chaunted in chorus by all present:—
The Derby and Chesterfield Reporter from January 7, 1830, shares the following details about Herefordshire customs: "On the evening before Old Christmas Day, thirteen fires are lit in the cornfields of many farms, twelve arranged in a circle and one around a pole that is much taller and longer than the others in the center. These fires are named after the Virgin Mary and the Twelve Apostles, with the lady in the middle; while they burn, the farmworkers gather in a shed or outbuilding where they can see the glow of the Apostolic flame. They lead a cow into this shed, on whose horn a large plum cake is placed, and after gathering around the animal, the oldest worker takes a bucket of cider and solemnly addresses the cow with the following lines; after which the verse is chanted in unison by everyone present:—
"Here's to thy pretty face and thy white horn, God send thy master a good crop of corn, Both wheat, rye, and barley, and all sorts of grain, And, next year, if we live, we'll drink to thee again. |
"He then dashes the cider in the cow's face, when, by a violent toss of her head, she throws the plum cake on the[Pg 235] ground; and if it falls forward, it is an omen that the next harvest will be good; if backward, that it will be unfavourable. This is the ceremony at the commencement of the rural feast, which is generally prolonged to the following morning."
"He then splashes the cider in the cow's face, and with a violent toss of her head, she throws the plum cake on the[Pg 235] ground; if it falls forward, it's a sign that the next harvest will be good; if it falls backward, it means it will be unfavorable. This is the ritual at the start of the rural feast, which usually lasts until the following morning."
In Ireland,[88] "on Twelve Eve in Christmas, they use to set up, as high as they can, a sieve of oats, and in it a dozen of candles set round, and in the centre one larger, all lighted. This is in memory of our Saviour and His Apostles—lights of the world."
In Ireland,[88] "on Christmas Eve, they set up a sieve filled with oats as high as they can, surrounding it with a dozen candles and placing one larger candle in the center, all lit. This is to commemorate our Saviour and His Apostles—lights of the world."
The 6th of January, or twelfth day after Christmas, is a festival of the Church, called the Epiphany (from a Greek word signifying "appearance"), or Manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles; and it arises from the adoration of the Wise Men, or Magi, commonly known as "the Three Kings," Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthazar, who were led by the miraculous star to Bethlehem, and there offered to the infant Christ gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The following carol is in the Harl. MSS. British Museum, and is of the time of Henry VII.:—
The 6th of January, or the twelfth day after Christmas, is a church festival called the Epiphany (a Greek word meaning "appearance"), or the Manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles. It commemorates the visit of the Wise Men, or Magi, commonly known as "the Three Kings," Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthazar, who were guided by a miraculous star to Bethlehem, where they presented the infant Christ with gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The following carol can be found in the Harl. MSS. British Museum and dates back to the time of Henry VII.:—
Now is Christmas i-come, Father and Son together in One, Holy Ghost as ye be One, In the act of; God send us a good new year-a. I would now sing, for and I might, Of a Child is fair to sight; His mother bare him this enders[89] night, So still-a; And as it was his will-a. There came three kings from Galilee To Bethlehem, that fair citie, To see Him that should ever be By right, Lord, and King, and Knight-a. As they came forth with their offering, They met with Herod, that moody king, He asked them of their coming This tide-a; And thus to them he said-a: "Of whence be ye, you kings three?" "Of the East, as you may see, To seek Him that should ever be By right- Lord, and King, and Knight-a." "When you to this Child have been, Come you home this way again, Tell me the sights that ye have seen, I pray; Go not another way-a." They took their leave, both old and young, Of Herod, that moody king; They went forth with their offering, By light-a [Pg 236]Of the Star that shone so bright-a. Till they came into the place Where Jesus and his mother was, There they offered with great solace, In the future, Gold, incense, and myrrh-a. When they had their offering made, As the Holy Ghost them bade, Then were they both merry and glad, And light it; It was a good fair sight-a. Anon, as on their way they went, The Father of Heaven an Angel sent, To those three kings that made present, That day-a, Who thus to them did say-a: "My Lord hath warned you every one, By Herod King ye go not home, For, an' you do, he will you slone[90] And strye-a,[91] And hurt you wonderly-a." So forth they went another way, Through the might of God, His lay,[92] As the Angel to them did say, Full right on, It was a fair good sight-a. When they were come to their countree, Merry and glad they were all three, Of the sight that they had see By night-a; By the Star's shining light-a. Kneel we now all here adown To that Lord of great renown, And pray we in good devotion For grace-a, In Heaven to have a place-a. |
This festival was held in high honour in England; and up to the reign of George III. our Kings and Queens, attended by the Knights of the three great Orders—the Garter, the Thistle, and the Bath—were wont to go in state to the Chapel Royal, St. James's, and there offer gold, frankincense, and myrrh, in commemoration of the Magi; but when George III. was incapacitated, mentally, from performing the functions of royalty, it was done by proxy, and successive sovereigns have found it convenient to perform this act of piety vicariously.
This festival was highly valued in England; and up until the reign of George III, our Kings and Queens, along with the Knights of the three major Orders—the Garter, the Thistle, and the Bath—would usually go in a grand procession to the Chapel Royal at St. James's, where they would offer gold, frankincense, and myrrh in remembrance of the Magi; however, when George III became unable to fulfill royal duties due to mental incapacity, it was done on his behalf, and later monarchs have found it easier to carry out this act of devotion indirectly.
It must have been a magnificent function in the time of Henry VII., as we learn by Le Neve's Royalle Book. "As for Twelfth Day, the King must go crowned, in his royal robes, kirtle, surtout, his furred hood about his neck, his mantle with a long train, and his cutlas before him; his armills upon his arms, of gold set full of rich stones; and no temporal man to touch it but the King himself; and the squire for the body must bring it to the King in a fair kerchief, and the[Pg 237] King must put them on himself; and he must have his sceptre in his right hand, and the ball with the cross in his left hand, and the crown upon his head. And he must offer that day gold, myrrh, and sense; then must the Dean of the Chapel send unto the Archbishop of Canterbury, by clerk, or priest, the King's offering that day; and then must the Archbishop give the next benefice that falleth in his gift to the same messenger. And then the King must change his mantle when he goeth to meat, and take off his hood, and lay it about his neck; and clasp it before with a great rich ouche; and this must be of the same colour that he offered in. And the Queen in the same form as when she is crowned."
It must have been a magnificent event during the time of Henry VII, as we learn from Le Neve's Royalle Book. "On Twelfth Day, the King must wear a crown, his royal robes, a kirtle, a surtout, a fur-lined hood around his neck, a mantle with a long train, and carry a cutlass in front of him; his armills on his arms, made of gold and set with precious stones; and only the King himself is allowed to touch them; the squire for the body must present them to the King in a nice cloth, and the[Pg 237] King must put them on himself; he must hold his sceptre in his right hand, the orb with the cross in his left hand, and wear the crown on his head. He must offer gold, myrrh, and incense that day; then the Dean of the Chapel must send the King's offering that day to the Archbishop of Canterbury by a clerk or priest; and the Archbishop must give the next benefice that comes into his gift to the same messenger. Then the King must change his mantle when he goes to eat, take off his hood, and drape it around his neck; and fasten it in front with a large, valuable brooch; this must be the same color as what he offered. And the Queen must follow the same protocol as when she is crowned."
Now the ceremonial is as simple as it can be made. In the Chapel Royal, St. James's, after the reading of the sentence at the offertory, "Let your light so shine before men," etc., while the organ plays, two members of Her Majesty's household, wearing the royal livery, descend from the royal pew, and, preceded by the usher, advance to the altar rails, where they present to one of the two officiating clergymen a red bag, edged with gold lace or braid, which is received in an alms dish, and then reverently placed upon the altar. This bag, or purse, is understood to contain the Queen's offering of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
Now the ceremony is as simple as it can be. In the Chapel Royal, St. James's, after the reading of the sentence at the offertory, "Let your light so shine before men," etc., while the organ plays, two members of Her Majesty's household, wearing the royal uniform, come down from the royal pew and, followed by the usher, make their way to the altar rails, where they present one of the two officiating clergymen with a red bag, trimmed with gold lace or braid, which is received in an alms dish and then respectfully placed on the altar. This bag, or purse, is understood to hold the Queen's offering of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
But another sovereign had a great deal to do with Twelfth day, "The King of the Bean," who takes his title from a bean, or a silver penny, baked in a cake, which is cut up and distributed, and he is king in whose slice the bean is found. Naogeorgus gives us the following account of Twelfth day:—
But another ruler played a significant role in Twelfth Day, "The King of the Bean," who gets his title from either a bean or a silver coin baked into a cake. This cake is sliced up and shared, and he becomes king if his piece contains the bean. Naogeorgus provides the following description of Twelfth Day:—
The wise men's day here foloweth, who out from Persia farre, Brought giftes and presents unto Christ, conducted by a starre. The Papistes do beleeve that these were kings, and so them call, And do affirme that of the same there were but three in all. Here sundrie friendes togither come, and meete in companie, And make a king amongst themselves by voyce, or destinie: Who, after princely guise, appoyntes his officers alway. Then, unto feasting doe they go, and long time after play: Upon their hordes, in order thicke, the daintie dishes stande, Till that their purses emptie be, and creditors at hande. Their children herein follow them, and choosing princes here, With pompe and great solemnitie, they meete and make good chere: With money eyther got by stealth, or of their parents eft, That so they may be traynde to knowe, both ryot here and theft. Then also every housholder, to his abilitie, Doth make a mightie Cake, that may suffice his companie: Herein a pennie doth he put, before it comes to fire, This he devides according as his housholde doth require. And every peece distributeth, as round about they stand, Which, in their names, unto the poore, is given out of hand: [Pg 239]But, who so chaunceth on the peece wherin the money lies, Is counted king amongst them all, and is, with showtes and cries, Exalted to the heavens up, who, taking chalke in hande, Doth make a crosse on every beame, and rafters as they stande: Great force and powre have these agaynst all injuryes and harmes Of cursed devils, sprites, and bugges,[93] of coniurings and charmes. So much this king can do, so much the Crosses brings to passe, Made by some servant, maide, or childe, or by some foolish asse. Twise sixe nightes then from Christmasse, they do count with diligence Wherein eche maister, in his house, doth burne up Franckensence: And on the Table settes a loafe, when night approcheth nere, Before the Coles, and Franckensence, to be perfumed there: First bowing downe his heade he standes, and nose, and eares, and eyes He smokes, and with his mouth receyve the fume that doth arise: Whom followeth streight his wife, and doth the same full solemly, And of their children every one, and all their family: Which doth preserve, they say, their teeth, and nose, and eyes, and eare, From every kind of maladie, and sicknesse all the yeare. When every one receyved hath this odour, great and small, Then one takes up the pan with Coales, and Franckensence, and all, Another takes the loafe, whom all the rest do follow here, And round about the house they go, with torch or taper clere, That neither bread nor meat do want, nor witch with dreadful charme Have powre to hurt their children, or to do their cattell harme. There are, that three nightes onely do perfourme this foolish geare, To this intent, and thinke themselves in safetie all the yeare. To Christ dare none commit himselfe. And in these dayes beside, They iudge what weather all the yeare shall happen and betide: Ascribing to ech day a month. And, at this present time, The youth in every place doe flocke, and all appareld fine, With Pypars through the streetes they runne, and sing at every dore, In commendation of the man, rewarded well therefore: Which on themselves they do bestowe, or on the Church, as though The people were not plagude with Roges and begging Fryers enough. There Cities are, where boyes and gyrles togither still do runne, About the streete with like, as soone as night beginnes to come, And bring abrode their wassell bowles, who well rewarded bee, With Cakes and Cheese, and great good cheare, and money plentiouslie. |
The above gives us Twelfth day customs in the sixteenth century. Herrick tells us how it was celebrated a hundred years later, when they had added a queen to the festivities, as they had, previously, given a consort to the Lord of Misrule.[Pg 240]
The above outlines Twelfth Day customs in the sixteenth century. Herrick describes how it was celebrated a hundred years later, when they had added a queen to the festivities, just as they had previously given a consort to the Lord of Misrule.[Pg 240]
Twelfe night, or King and Queene.
Twelfth Night, or King and Queen.
Now, the fun begins With the cake packed with plums, Where Beane's the King of the sport here; Besides, we need to know The Pea too Must revell, as Queene, in the Court here. Now, start to choose (This night, as you do), Who shall for the present delight here, Be a King by chance, And who won't Be Twelfe-day Queene for the night here. Knowing this, let's proceed Joy-sops with the cake; And let not a man then be seen here Who doesn't want to drink To the foundation, from the edge, A health to the King and the Queene here. Next, fill the bowl full With soft lamb's wool; Adde sugar, nutmeg, and ginger, With a stock of beer too; And so you must do To make the wassaile a swinger. Give them to the King And Queene was celebrating; And though, with ale, ye be whet here, Yet part you from here As blameless As when ye innocent met here. |
This custom of having a Twelfth cake and electing a king and queen has now died out, and is only known by tradition; so utterly died out indeed, that in the British Museum Library there is not a single sheet of "Twelfth-night Characters" to show the younger race of students what they were like. The nearest approach to them preserved in that national collection of literature are some Lottery squibs, which imitated them; and Hone, writing in 1838, says: "It must be admitted, however, that the characters sold[Pg 241] by the pastry cooks are either commonplace or gross; when genteel, they are inane; when humorous, they are vulgar."
This tradition of having a Twelfth cake and choosing a king and queen has faded away and is now only remembered through stories; it has become so rare that there isn’t a single copy of "Twelfth-night Characters" in the British Museum Library to show younger students what they were like. The closest things kept in that national collection of literature are some Lottery jokes that mimicked them; and Hone, writing in 1838, says: "It must be admitted, however, that the characters sold[Pg 241] by the pastry cooks are either ordinary or crude; when they are refined, they are pointless; when they are funny, they are tasteless."
A correspondent in the Universal Magazine for 1774 thus describes the drawing for King and Queen at that date. He says: "I went to a friend's house in the country to partake of some of those innocent pleasures that constitute a merry Christmas. I did not return till I had been present at drawing King and Queen, and eaten a slice of the Twelfth Cake, made by the fair hands of my good friend's consort. After tea, yesterday, a noble cake was produced, and two bowls, containing the fortunate chances for the different sexes. Our host filled up the tickets; the whole company, except the King and Queen, were to be ministers of state, maids of honour, or ladies of the bed-chamber. Our kind host and hostess, whether by design or accident, became king and queen. According to Twelfth-day law, each party is to support their character till midnight."
A writer in the Universal Magazine for 1774 describes the drawing for King and Queen from that time. They say: "I went to a friend's house in the country to enjoy some of those simple pleasures that make Christmas joyful. I didn’t leave until I had participated in the drawing for King and Queen and had a slice of the Twelfth Cake made by my friend's lovely wife. After tea yesterday, a fancy cake was served, along with two bowls containing the lucky draws for the different genders. Our host filled out the tickets; everyone in the company, except for the King and Queen, was to be ministers of state, maids of honour, or ladies of the bed-chamber. Our generous host and hostess, whether on purpose or by chance, ended up being the king and queen. According to Twelfth Night tradition, everyone is supposed to keep their roles until midnight."
Here we see they had no sheets of "Twelfth-night Characters" (the loss of which I deplore), but they were of home manufacture. Hone, in his Every-Day Book, vol. i. p. 51, describes the drawing some fifty years later. "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. 1 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 a gentleman to carry the reticule to the ladies, as they sit, from which each lady is to draw one ticket, and to preserve 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[Pg 242] fallen to each. Next, arrange your visitors according to their numbers; the king No. 1, 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!"
Here we see they didn’t have sheets of "Twelfth-night Characters" (which I really regret), but they were homemade. Hone, in his Every-Day Book, vol. i. p. 51, describes the drawing about fifty years later. "First, buy your cake. Then, before your guests arrive, buy your characters, each of which should have a nice verse underneath. Next, look at your invitation list and count the number of ladies you expect; and then, the number of gentlemen. Then take as many female characters as you have invited ladies; fold them up to the same size, and number each on the back, making sure to designate the king as No. 1 and the queen as No. 2. Then prepare and number the men's characters. Have tea and coffee served to your guests as they arrive. When everyone is there and tea is finished, place as many ladies' characters in a bag as there are ladies present; then put the men's characters in a hat. Next, pick a gentleman to carry the bag to the ladies while they sit, so that each lady can draw one ticket and keep it sealed. Choose a lady to take the hat to the gentlemen for the same purpose. There will be one ticket left in the bag, and another in the hat, and the lady and gentleman who carried each will swap them, claiming they’ve [Pg 242] fallen to each. Next, arrange your guests in order according to their numbers; the king is No. 1, the queen is No. 2, and so on. The king will then read the verse on his ticket; then the queen will read the verse on hers, and so the characters will proceed in numerical order. Once that’s done, let the cake and refreshments go around, and cheers for fun!"
The Twelfth cakes themselves were, in the higher class, almost as beautiful as wedding cakes, but they might be had of all prices, from sixpence to anything one's purse might compass; and the confectioner's (they called them pastry cooks in those days) windows were well worth a visit, and crowds did visit them, sometimes a little practical joking taking place, such as pinning two persons together, etc. Quoting Hone again: "In London, with every pastry cook in the city, and at the west end of the town, it is 'high change' on Twelfth day. From the taking down the shutters in the morning, he and his men, with additional assistants, male and female, are fully occupied by attending to the dressing out of the window, executing orders of the day before, receiving fresh ones, or supplying the wants of chance customers. Before dusk the important arrangement of the window is completed. Then the gas is turned on, with supernumerary argand lamps and manifold waxlights, to illuminate countless cakes, of all prices and dimensions, that stand in rows and piles on the counters and sideboards, and in the windows. The richest in flavour and heaviest in weight and price are placed on large and massy salvers; one, enormously superior in size, is the chief object of curiosity; and all are decorated with all imaginable images of things 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 confectionery, painted with variegated colours, glitter by 'excess of light' from mirrors against the walls, festooned with artificial wonders of Flora."
The Twelfth cakes were almost as beautiful as wedding cakes in the upper class, but they were available at all price points, from sixpence to whatever one could afford. The pastry shops (as they were called back then) had windows that were worth visiting, and crowds did come to check them out, sometimes engaging in a bit of playful teasing, like pinning two people together, etc. Quoting Hone again: "In London, at every pastry shop in the city, especially in the west end, it's 'high change' on Twelfth Day. From the moment they open the shutters in the morning, he and his staff, along with extra help, both men and women, are busy preparing the window displays, filling orders from the day before, taking new ones, or serving walk-in customers. Before nightfall, the window arrangement is done. Then the gas lights up, along with extra Argand lamps and lots of wax candles, to shine on countless cakes of all sizes and prices that are lined up on counters and shelves, and in the windows. The richest in flavor, heft, and price are set out on large, heavy platters; one, vastly larger than all the rest, is the main attraction; and they are all decorated with a wide array of images, both living and non-living. Stars, castles, kings, cottages, dragons, trees, fish, palaces, cats, dogs, churches, lions, milkmaids, knights, serpents, and countless other shapes made of snow-white icing, painted in bright colors, sparkle with 'excess of light' from mirrors on the walls, adorned with artificial floral wonders."
As the fashion of Twelfth cakes declined, the pastry cooks had to push their sale in every way possible, not being very particular as to overstepping the law, by getting rid of them by means of drawings, raffles, and lotteries, which for a long time were winked at by the authorities, until they assumed[Pg 243] dimensions which could not be ignored, and M. Louis Dethier was summoned at Bow Street on 26th December 1860, under the Act 42 Geo. III. cap. 119, sec. 2, for keeping an office at the Hanover Square Rooms for the purpose of carrying on a lottery "under the name, device, and pretence of a distribution of Twelfth cakes." He had brought a similar distribution to a successful conclusion in 1851, but that was the exceptional year of the Great Exhibition, and he was not interfered with; but this was for £10,000 worth of cakes to be drawn for on ten successive days, beginning 26th December—tickets one shilling each. This was an undoubted lottery on a grand scale. The case was completely proved against Dethier, but he was not punished, as he abandoned his scheme, putting up with the loss.
As the trend of Twelfth cakes faded, bakers had to find every way to sell them, even bending the law a bit by using drawings, raffles, and lotteries, which the authorities overlooked for a while. However, things escalated until they couldn't be ignored, leading to M. Louis Dethier being summoned at Bow Street on December 26, 1860, under the Act 42 Geo. III. cap. 119, sec. 2, for running a lottery "under the name and guise of distributing Twelfth cakes" at the Hanover Square Rooms. He had successfully completed a similar distribution in 1851, during the exceptional year of the Great Exhibition, without any interference, but this time it involved cakes worth £10,000 to be raffled off over ten days starting December 26—tickets priced at one shilling each. This was clearly a large-scale lottery. The evidence against Dethier was solid, but he faced no punishment because he canceled his scheme and accepted his losses.
There were some curious customs in different parts of the kingdom on Twelfth day, but I doubt whether many are in existence now. The following, taken from Notes and Queries (3 ser. v. 109), was in vogue in 1864. "It is still the custom in parts of Pembrokeshire on Twelfth night to carry about a wren.
There were some interesting traditions in various regions of the kingdom on Twelfth Day, but I doubt that many still exist today. The following, taken from Notes and Queries (3 ser. v. 109), was popular in 1864: "It is still customary in some areas of Pembrokeshire on Twelfth Night to carry around a wren."
"The wren is secured in a small house made of wood, with door and windows—the latter glazed. Pieces of ribbon of various colours are fixed to the ridge of the roof outside. Sometimes several wrens are brought in the same cage; and oftentimes a stable lantern, decorated as above mentioned, serves for the wren's house. The proprietors of this establishment go round to the principal houses in the neighbourhood, where, accompanying themselves with some musical instrument, they announce their arrival by singing the 'Song of the Wren.' The wren's visit is a source of much amusement to children and servants; and the wren's men, or lads, are usually invited to have a draught from the cellar, and receive a present in money. The 'Song of the Wren' is generally encored, and the proprietors very commonly commence high life below stairs, dancing with the maid-servants, and saluting them under the kissing bush, where there is one. I have lately procured a copy of the song sung on this occasion. I am told that there is a version of this song in the Welsh language, which is in substance very near to the following:[Pg 244]—
The wren is kept in a small wooden house, complete with a door and windows that are glazed. Colorful ribbons are tied to the ridge of the roof outside. Sometimes, multiple wrens are kept in the same cage, and often a stable lantern, decorated as mentioned, serves as the wren's house. The owners of this setup visit the main houses in the area, and while playing a musical instrument, they announce their arrival by singing the "Song of the Wren." The wren’s visit brings a lot of joy to children and servants; the wren's men, or boys, are usually invited to have a drink from the cellar and are given a monetary gift. The "Song of the Wren" is typically repeated on demand, and the owners often start a lively party downstairs, dancing with the maids and greeting them under the kissing bush, where one is available. I recently got a copy of the song sung for this occasion. I’ve heard that there’s a Welsh version of this song that is quite similar to the one below:[Pg 244]—
"The Song of the Wren.
"The Wren's Song.
"Joy health, love, and peace Be to you in this place, By your leave we will sing Concerning our King: Our King is well drest, In silks of the best; With his ribbons so rare, No King can compare. In his coach he does ride, With a great deal of pride; And with four footmen To wait upon him. We four were at watch, And all nigh of a match; With powder and ball, We fired at his hall. We have travelled many miles Over hedges and stiles, To find you this King, Which we now to you bring. Now Christmas is past, Twelfth day is the last, Th' Old Year bids adieu; Great joy to the New." |
Hone, in his Table Book, p. 26, gives a description of "Holly Night" at Brough, Westmoreland, in 1838. "Formerly the 'Holly Tree' at Brough was really holly, but ash being abundant, the latter is now substituted. There are two head inns in the town, which provide for the ceremony alternately, although the good townspeople mostly lend their assistance in preparing the tree, to every branch of which they fasten a torch. About eight o'clock in the evening it is taken to a convenient part of the town, where the torches are lighted, the town band accompanying, and playing till all is completed, when it is removed to the lower end of the town; and after divers salutes and huzzas from the spectators, is carried up and down the town in stately procession. The band march behind it, playing their instruments, and stopping every time they reach the town bridge and the cross, where the 'holly' is again greeted with shouts of applause. Many of the inhabitants carry lighted branches and flambeaus; and rockets, squibs, etc., are discharged on the joyful occasion. After the tree is thus carried, and the torches are sufficiently burnt, it is placed in the middle of the town, when it is again cheered by the surrounding populace, and is afterwards thrown among them. They eagerly watch for this opportunity; and, clinging to each end of the tree, endeavour to carry it away to the inn they are contending for, where they are allowed their usual quantum of ale and spirits, and pass a merry night, which seldom breaks up before two in the morning."[Pg 245]
Hone, in his Table Book, p. 26, describes "Holly Night" at Brough, Westmoreland, in 1838. "Once, the 'Holly Tree' at Brough was made of real holly, but since ash trees are common, they now use ash instead. The town has two main inns that take turns hosting the event, although the friendly locals mostly help out in preparing the tree, attaching a torch to every branch. Around eight in the evening, it’s taken to a suitable spot in the town, where the torches are lit, accompanied by the town band playing until everything is done. Afterward, the tree is carried to the lower end of the town, and following various cheers and shouts from the crowd, it is paraded up and down the town. The band marches behind it, playing music and stopping each time they reach the town bridge and the cross, where the 'holly' is once again met with applause. Many residents carry lit branches and torches, and fireworks and small explosives are set off in celebration. Once the tree has been paraded and the torches have burned down enough, it is placed in the center of the town, where it gets cheered by the gathered crowd and then tossed among them. They eagerly anticipate this moment, and gripping both ends of the tree, they try to take it to the inn they are competing for, where they enjoy their usual drinks and have a lively night that rarely wraps up before two in the morning." [Pg 245]
According to Waldron, in his Description of the Isle of Man, 1859, p. 156, the following singular custom is in force on Twelfth day. In this island there is not a barn unoccupied on the whole twelve days after Christmas, every parish hiring fiddlers at the public charge. On Twelfth day the fiddler lays his head in the lap of some one of the wenches, and the mainstyr fiddler asks who such a maid, or such a maid, naming all the girls one after another, shall marry, to which he answers according to his own whim, or agreeable to the intimacies he has taken notice of during the time of merriment, and whatever he says is absolutely depended upon as an oracle; and if he couple two people who have an aversion to each other, tears and vexation succeed the mirth; this they call "cutting off the fiddler's head," for after this he is dead for a whole year.
According to Waldron, in his Description of the Isle of Man, 1859, p. 156, the following unique tradition takes place on Twelfth Night. On this island, there isn't a barn that's not occupied throughout the entire twelve days after Christmas, with each parish hiring fiddlers at public expense. On Twelfth Night, the fiddler rests his head in the lap of one of the girls, and the mainstyr fiddler asks who each girl will marry, going through their names one by one. The fiddler responds based on his own whims or the connections he's noticed during the festivities, and whatever he says is taken as the truth; if he pairs two people who dislike each other, tears and frustration follow the celebration. This is known as "cutting off the fiddler's head," because after this, he is considered dead for the entire year.
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CHAPTER 32 St. Distaff's Day—Plough Monday—Customs on the Day—Feast of the Purification. |
Here Christ-tide ought to end, and men and women should have returned to their ordinary avocations, but the long holiday demoralised them; and although the women were supposed to set to work on the day succeeding Twelfth day, thence called St. Distaff's day, or Rock[94] day, there was rough play, as Herrick tells us:—
Here the Christmas season should come to a close, and everyone should have gone back to their regular jobs, but the extended break threw them off track; even though the women were expected to start working on the day after Twelfth Night, known as St. Distaff's Day, or Rock[94] day, there was some wild behavior, as Herrick tells us:—
Partly work, and partly play, Ye must, on St. 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 pails of water then, Let the Maides bewash the men. Give S. Distaffe all the right, Then bid Christmas sport good-night. And, next morrow, every one To his owne vocation. |
The men, however, could not settle down to work so speedily, serious work not beginning till after "Plough Monday," or the Monday after Twelfth Day. Tusser says:[Pg 247]
The men, however, couldn't get to work that quickly; serious work didn't really start until after "Plough Monday," which is the Monday after Twelfth Day. Tusser says:[Pg 247]
Plough Munday, next after that twelf tide is past, Bids out with the plough—the worst husband is last. If plowman get hatchet, or whip to the skrene, Maids loseth their cocke, if no water be seen. |
This verse would be rather enigmatical were it not explained in Tusser Redivivus (1744, p. 79). "After Christmas (which, formerly, during the twelve days, was a time of very little work) every gentleman feasted the farmers, and every farmer their servants and task-men. Plough Monday puts them in mind of their business. In the morning, the men and the maid-servants strive who shall show their diligence in rising earliest. If the ploughman can get his whip, his ploughstaff, hatchet, or any thing that he wants in the field, by the fireside before the maid hath got her kettle on, then the maid loseth her Shrove-tide cock, and it belongs wholly to the men. Thus did our forefathers strive to allure youth to their duty, and provided them with innocent mirth as well as labour. On this Plough Monday they have a good supper and some strong drink."
This verse would be quite mysterious if it weren't explained in Tusser Redivivus (1744, p. 79). "After Christmas (which, in the past, during the twelve days, was a time of very little work), every gentleman treated the farmers, and every farmer treated their servants and laborers. Plough Monday reminds them of their responsibilities. In the morning, the men and the maidservants compete to see who can get up the earliest. If the ploughman can grab his whip, ploughstaff, hatchet, or anything else he needs in the field before the maid has her kettle on, the maid loses her Shrove-tide cock, and it goes entirely to the men. This is how our ancestors encouraged youth to fulfill their duties while also providing them with innocent fun alongside their work. On this Plough Monday, they enjoy a good supper and some strong drinks."
In many parts of the country it was made a regular festival, but, like all these old customs, it has fallen into desuetude. However, Hone's Every-Day Book was not written so long ago, and he there says: "In some parts of the country, and especially in the North, they draw the plough in procession to the doors of the villagers and townspeople. Long ropes are attached to it, and thirty or forty men, stripped to their clean white shirts, but protected from the weather by waistcoats beneath, drag it along. Their arms and shoulders are decorated with gay coloured ribbons tied in large knots and bows, and their hats are smartened in the same way. They are usually accompanied by an old woman, or a boy dressed up to represent one; she is gaily bedizened, and called the Bessy. Sometimes the sport is assisted by a humourous countryman to represent a fool. He is covered with ribbons, and attired in skins, with a depending tail, and carries a box to collect money from the spectators. They are attended by music and Morris Dancers, when they can be got; but it is always a sportive dance with a few lasses in all their finery, and a super[Pg 248]abundance of ribbons. The money collected is spent at night in conviviality."
In many parts of the country, it became a regular festival, but like all these old customs, it has fallen out of practice. However, Hone's Every-Day Book wasn't written too long ago, and he mentions: "In some areas, especially in the North, they take the plow in a procession to the doorsteps of villagers and townspeople. Long ropes are tied to it, and thirty or forty men, wearing clean white shirts but protected from the weather with waistcoats underneath, pull it along. Their arms and shoulders are adorned with bright ribbons tied in large knots and bows, and their hats are decorated similarly. They're usually joined by an older woman or a boy dressed as one; she's stylishly decorated and referred to as Bessy. Sometimes, the festivities include a humorous local man playing the role of a fool. He's covered in ribbons, dressed in animal skins with a tail hanging down, and he carries a box to collect donations from the crowd. They're accompanied by music and Morris dancers, whenever possible; it’s always a lively dance with a few girls in their best outfits, along with an overwhelming amount of ribbons. The money collected is spent later that night in celebration."
Chambers's Book of Days also gives an account of this frolic. "A correspondent, who has borne a part (cow-horn blowing) on many a Plough Monday in Lincolnshire, thus describes what happened on these occasions under his own observation:—Rude though it was, the Plough procession threw a life into the dreary scenery of winter as it came winding along the quiet rutted lanes on its way from one village to another; for the ploughmen from many a surrounding thorpe, hamlet, and lonely farm-house united in the celebration of Plough Monday. It was nothing unusual for at least a score of the 'sons of the soil' to yoke themselves with ropes to the plough, having put on clean smock-frocks in honour of the day. There was no limit to the number who joined in the morris dance, and were partners with 'Bessy,' who carried the money box; and all these had ribbons in their hats, and pinned about them, wherever there was room to display a bunch. Many a hard-working country Molly lent a helping hand in decorating her Johnny for Plough Monday, and finished him with an admiring exclamation of—'Lawks, John! thou dost look smart, surely!' Some also wore small bunches of corn in their hats, from which the wheat was soon shaken out by the ungainly jumping which they called dancing. Occasionally, if the winter was severe, the procession was joined by threshers carrying their flails, reapers bearing their sickles, and carters with their long whips, which they were ever cracking to add to the noise, while even the smith and the miller were among the number, for the one sharpened the plough-shares, and the other ground the corn; and Bessy rattled his box, and danced so high that he showed his worsted stockings and corduroy breeches; and, very often, if there was a thaw, tucked up his gown-skirts under his waistcoat and shook the bonnet off his head, and disarranged the long ringlets that ought to have concealed his whiskers. For Bessy is to the procession of Plough Monday what the leading figurante is to the opera or ballet, and dances about as gracefully as the hippopotami described by Dr. Livingstone. But these rough[Pg 249] antics were the cause of much laughter, and rarely do we ever remember hearing any coarse jest that could call up an angry blush to a modest cheek.
Chambers's Book of Days also shares a story about this celebration. "A correspondent, who has participated (cow-horn blowing) in many Plough Mondays in Lincolnshire, describes what happened on these occasions from his own perspective:—Although it was crude, the plough procession brought life to the dreary winter scenery as it wound along the quiet, rutted lanes on its way from one village to another; ploughmen from many nearby villages, hamlets, and lonely farmhouses came together to celebrate Plough Monday. It was common for at least twenty 'sons of the soil' to tie themselves with ropes to the plough, wearing clean smock-frocks to honor the day. There was no limit to how many joined the morris dance and partnered with 'Bessy,' who carried the money box; all had ribbons in their hats and pinned on their clothes wherever there was space to show off a bunch. Many hard-working country women helped decorate their men for Plough Monday, ending with an admiring shout of—'Wow, John! you look sharp, for sure!' Some also wore small bunches of corn in their hats, from which the wheat was quickly shaken out by the awkward jumping they called dancing. Occasionally, if the winter was harsh, the procession included threshers with their flails, reapers with their sickles, and carters with their long whips, which they constantly cracked to add to the noise, while even the smith and the miller took part, as one sharpened ploughshares and the other ground the corn; and Bessy jingled his box, dancing so energetically that he revealed his worsted stockings and corduroy breeches; often, if it was warm enough, he tucked up his gown under his waistcoat, shook off his bonnet, and messed up the long curls that should have hidden his whiskers. Bessy is to the Plough Monday procession what the lead dancer is to the opera or ballet, and dances as gracefully as the hippos described by Dr. Livingstone. But these rough[Pg 249] antics caused a lot of laughter, and we hardly remember hearing any crude joke that could make a modest cheek flush with anger."
"No doubt they were called 'plough bullocks' through drawing the plough, as bullocks were formerly used, and are still yoked to the plough in some parts of the country. The rubbishy verses they recited are not worth preserving, beyond the line which graces many a public-house sign, of 'God speed the Plough.' At the large farm-house, besides money, they obtained refreshment; and, through the quantity of ale they thus drank during the day, managed to get what they called 'their load' by night.
"No doubt they were called 'plough bullocks' because they pulled the plough, just like bullocks used to, and still are in some areas. The silly verses they recited aren’t worth keeping, except for the line that decorates many pub signs, 'God speed the Plough.' At the big farmhouse, in addition to money, they got refreshments; and by drinking a lot of ale throughout the day, they ended up with what they called 'their load' by night."
"But the great event of the day was when they came before some house which bore signs that the owner was well-to-do in the world, and nothing was given to them. Bessy rattled his box, and the ploughmen danced, while the country lads blew their bullock's horns, or shouted with all their might; but if there was still no sign, no forthcoming of either bread and cheese or ale, then the word was given, the ploughshare driven into the ground before the door or window, the whole twenty men yoked pulling like one, and, in a minute or two, the ground was as brown, barren, and ridgy as a newly ploughed field. But this was rarely done, for everybody gave something, and, were it but little, the men never murmured, though they might talk of the stinginess of the giver afterwards amongst themselves, more especially if the party was what they called 'well off in the world.' We are not aware that the ploughmen were ever summoned to answer for such a breach of the law, for they believe, to use their own expressive language, 'they can stand by it, and no law in the world can touch 'em, 'cause it's an old charter.'
"But the big event of the day was when they arrived at a house that looked like the owner was doing well, and nothing was given to them. Bessy shook his box, and the ploughmen danced, while the local guys blew their bull horns or shouted as loud as they could; but if there was still no response, no offer of bread and cheese or ale, then the signal was given, the ploughshare plunged into the ground in front of the door or window, and all twenty men yoked together pulled as if they were one, and, in a minute or two, the ground was as brown, barren, and ridged as a freshly ploughed field. But this hardly ever happened, because everyone gave something, and even if it was little, the men never complained, though they might discuss the stinginess of the giver later among themselves, especially if the person was what they called 'well off.' We don't know of any cases where the ploughmen were ever called to account for such a breach of the law, because they believe, in their own straightforward way, 'they can back it up, and no law in the world can touch 'em, 'cause it's an old charter.'"
"One of the mummers generally wears a fox's skin in the form of a hood; but, beyond the laughter the tail that hangs down his back awakens by its motion when he dances, we are at a loss to find a meaning. Bessy formerly wore a bullock's tail behind, under his gown, and which he held in his hand while dancing, but that appendage has not been worn of late."
"One of the performers usually wears a fox skin as a hood; however, aside from the laughter caused by the tail that swings down his back as he dances, we can’t figure out what it signifies. Bessy used to have a bullock's tail behind his gown, which he would hold in his hand while dancing, but that addition hasn’t been used lately."
On the 2nd of February—the Feast of the Purification[Pg 250] of the Blessed Virgin Mary—all Christ-tide decorations are to be taken down, and with them ends all trace of that festive season.
On February 2nd—the Feast of the Purification[Pg 250] of the Blessed Virgin Mary—all Christmas decorations should be taken down, marking the end of that festive season.
Farwell, Crystmas fayer and fre; Farwell, Newers Day with the; Farwell, the Holy Epyphane; And now we sing to Mary. |
"Revertere, revertere, the queen of blysse and of beaute."
"Revertere, revertere, the queen of bliss and beauty."
THE END
FOOTNOTES
[4] [Transcriber's Note: ".nglond" appears in the original. An 18th-Century annotated edition of The Forme of Cury notes that in the original manuscript, "E was intended to be prefixed in red ink" in place of the leading period. See Pegge, Samuel, The Forme of Cury, p. 1, note c (London: J. Nichols, 1780) (page image available at http://www.pbm.com/~lindahl/foc/FoC042.html).]
[4] [Transcriber's Note: ".nglond" appears in the original. An 18th-century annotated edition of The Forme of Cury mentions that in the original manuscript, "E was meant to be added in red ink" instead of the leading period. See Pegge, Samuel, The Forme of Cury, p. 1, note c (London: J. Nichols, 1780) (page image available at http://www.pbm.com/~lindahl/foc/FoC042.html).]
[6] This word has an indefinite meaning. Sometimes it is synonymous with entrails—as "tripes and trullibubs"; sometimes it is meant for something very trifling, and then is occasionally spelt "trillibubs." Why introduced here, no one can tell.
[6] This word has a vague meaning. Sometimes it refers to entrails, like "tripes and trullibubs"; other times it means something insignificant, then it’s sometimes spelled "trillibubs." Why it’s mentioned here is a mystery.
[7] This Saturnalia of barring out the Schoolmaster at Christmas—just before breaking up—was in use certainly as late as 1888. Vide Notes and Queries, 7th series, vol. vi. p. 484.
[7] This tradition of excluding the Schoolmaster at Christmas—right before the holiday break—was still practiced as recently as 1888. See Notes and Queries, 7th series, vol. vi. p. 484.
[8] "Canterbury Christmas; or, A True Relation of the Insurrection in Canterbury on Christmas Day last, with the great hurt that befell divers persons thereby."
[8] "Canterbury Christmas; or, A True Account of the Uprising in Canterbury on Christmas Day last, along with the serious injuries that affected several individuals as a result."
[9] Mayor.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mayor.
[10] Tough or strong.
Tough or strong.
[14] Whitelock's Memorials, ed. 1682, p. 666.
[16] Ed. 1736, p. 217.
[20] Edwards, p. 209.
[21] Ibid., p. 25.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Id., p. 25.
[22] Ibid., p. 129.
[24] 7 series, x. p. 487.
[25] Pickers and stealers.
Pickpockets and thieves.
[26] Yule.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Yule.
[28] Last.
Last.
[29] True.
True.
[30] I am renowned as.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I'm famous for.
[31] Manger.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Manger.
[32] Satisfaction.
Satisfaction.
[33] Knowest.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Know.
[34] In faith.
In faith.
[35] Reasonable.
Fair enough.
[36] Lighting, burning.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Lighting, combustion.
[38] Fifth series, viii. p. 481.
[40] Langley's Abridg., p. 100.
[41] Do.
Do it.
[42] Pretty.
Looks great.
[43] A large basket.
A big basket.
[46] Isaiah i. 3.
[47] Mad.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Crazy.
[48] Beginnest to upbraid.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Starts to criticize.
[49] Dress.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Outfit.
[51] Crackle.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Crackle.
[53] Shrill.
High-pitched.
[54] Abundance.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Plenty.
[55] Piteous.
[56] Many.
Many.
[57] Clothing.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Clothing.
[58] Wicked, foul.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Evil, disgusting.
[59] Thrive.
Thrive.
[60] Brought to confusion.
Brought to confusion.
[61] Lost.
Lost.
[63] This dance is thus described in Notes and Queries (5th series, xii. 506). "Six youths, called sword dancers, dressed in white and decked with ribbons, accompanied by a fiddler, a boy in fantastic attire, the Bessy, and a doctor, practised a rude dance till New Year's day, when they ended with a feast. The Bessy interfered, whilst the dancers, surrounded him with swords, and he was killed."
[63] This dance is described in Notes and Queries (5th series, xii. 506). "Six young men, known as sword dancers, dressed in white and adorned with ribbons, accompanied by a fiddler, a boy in whimsical clothing, the Bessy, and a doctor, performed a rough dance until New Year's Day, when they concluded with a feast. The Bessy intervened while the dancers surrounded him with swords, and he was killed."
[64] Chambers' Journal, Dec. 21, 1881.
[65] False beards.
Fake beards.
[66] Except that it shall be.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ But it will be.
[67] Burn.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Burn.
[68] Upon pain of paying.
Upon risk of penalty.
[73] Dugdale's Orig. Jurid. cap. 64.
[75] Defero.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ I’ll pass.
[76] Found.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Found.
[77] Great and small.
Big and small.
[79] Dates were an ingredient in most kinds of pastry. See All's Well that Ends Well, Act i. sc. 1—"Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek."
[79] Dates were a common ingredient in many types of pastries. See All's Well that Ends Well, Act i. sc. 1—"Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek."
[80] Suddenly.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ All of a sudden.
[81] Corporation Letter-book, i. fol. 238.
[85] Orig. Jur., p. 246.
[87] Or Fig-sue, which is a mixture of ale, sliced figs, bread, and nutmeg, all boiled together, and eaten hot. This mess is made in North Lancashire, and partaken of on Good Friday, probably by way of mortifying the flesh.
[87] Or Fig-sue, which is a blend of ale, sliced figs, bread, and nutmeg, all cooked together and served hot. This dish is made in North Lancashire and eaten on Good Friday, likely as a way to practice self-denial.
[89] Last.
Last.
[90] Slay.
Slay.
[91] Stay, hinder.
Stay, block.
[92] Law.
__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Law.
[93] Bugbears, goblins.
Bugbears, goblins.
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