"The ancient custom of sword-dancing at Christmas is kept up in

Northumberland exclusively by these people. They may be constantly

seen at that festive season with their fiddler, bands of swordsmen,

Tommy and Bessy, most grotesquely dressed, performing their annual

routine of warlike evolutions."

And the present writer heard of similar festivities at Christmastide

in the Madeley district of Shropshire, accompanied by grotesque

imitations of the ancient hobby-horse.

[Illustration]

CUMBERLAND.

"A. W. R.," writing to Hone's "Year Book," December 8,

1827, says:--

"Nowhere does the Christmas season produce more heart-inspiring

mirth than among the inhabitants of Cumberland.

"With Christmas Eve commences a regular series of 'festivities and

merry makings.' Night after night, if you want the farmer or his

family, you must look for them anywhere but at home; and in the

different houses that you pass at one, two, or three in the morning,

should you happen to be out so late, you will find candles and fires

still unextinguished. At Christmas, every farmer gives two 'feasts,'

one called 't' ould foaks neet,' which is for those who are married,

and the other 't' young foaks neet,' for those who are single. Suppose

you and I, sir, take the liberty of attending one of these feasts

unasked (which by the bye is considered no liberty at all in

Cumberland) and see what is going on. Upon entering the room we behold

several card parties, some at 'whist,' others at 'loo' (there called

'lant'), or any other game that may suit their fancy. You will be

surprised on looking over the company to find that there is no

distinction of persons. Masters and servants, rich and poor, humble

and lofty, all mingle together without restraint--all cares are

forgotten--and each one seems to glory in his own enjoyment and in

that of his fellow-creatures. It is pleasant to find ourselves in such

society, especially as it is rarely in one's life that such

opportunities offer. Cast your eyes towards the sideboard, and there

see that large bowl of punch, which the good wife is inviting her

guests to partake of, with apples, oranges, biscuits, and other

agreeable eatables in plenty. The hospitable master welcomes us with a

smiling countenance and requests us to take seats and join one of the

tables.

"In due time some one enters to tell the company that supper is

waiting in the next room. Thither we adjourn, and find the raised and

mince pies, all sorts of tarts, and all cold--except the welcomes and

entreaties--with cream, ale, &c., in abundance; in the midst of all a

large goose pie, which seems to say 'Come and cut again.'

"After supper the party return to the card room, sit there for two or

three hours longer, and afterwards make the best of their way home, to

take a good long nap, and prepare for the same scene the next night.

At these 'feasts' intoxication is entirely out of the question--it

never happens.

"Such are the innocent amusements of these people."

"With gentle deeds and kindly thoughts,

And loving words withal,

Welcome the merry Christmas in

And hear a brother's call."[86]

PROVISION FOR THE POOR ON CHRISTMAS DAY.

[Illustration: THE GIVING AWAY OF CHRISTMAS DOLES.]

By the will of John Popple, dated the 12th of March, 1830, £4 yearly

is to be paid unto the vicar, churchwardens, and overseers of the poor

of the parish of Burnham, Buckinghamshire, to provide for the poor

people who should be residing in the poorhouse, a dinner, with a

proper quantity of good ale and likewise with tobacco and snuff on

Christmas Day.[87]

This kindly provision of Mr. Popple for the poor shows that he wished

to keep up the good old Christmas customs which are so much admired by

the "old man" in Southey's "The Old Mansion" (a poem of this period).

In recalling the good doings at the mansion "in my lady's time" the

"old man" says:--

"A woful day

'Twas for the poor when to her grave she went!

* * * * *

Were they sick?

She had rare cordial waters, and for herbs

She could have taught the doctors. Then at winter,

When weekly she distributed the bread

In the poor old porch, to see her and to hear

The blessings on her! And I warrant them

They were a blessing to her when her wealth

Had been no comfort else. At Christmas, sir!

It would have warmed your heart if you had seen

Her Christmas kitchen; how the blazing fire

Made her fine pewter shine, and holly boughs

So cheerful red; and as for mistletoe,

The finest bough that grew in the country round

Was mark'd for madam. Then her old ale went

So bountiful about! a Christmas cask,--

And 'twas a noble one!--God help me, sir!

But I shall never see such days again."

[Illustration]

THE ROYAL CHRISTMASES

In the reigns of George IV. and William IV., though not kept with the

grandeur of earlier reigns, were observed with much rejoicing and

festivity, and the Royal Bounties to the poor of the metropolis and

the country districts surrounding Windsor and the other Royal Palaces

were dispensed with the customary generosity. In his "Sketch Book,"

Washington Irving, who was born in the reign of George III. (1783),

and lived on through the reigns of George IV., and William IV., and

the first two decades of the reign of Queen Victoria, gives delightful

descriptions of the

FESTIVITIES OF THE NOBILITY AND GENTRY

of the period, recalling the times when the old halls of castles and

manor houses resounded with the harp and the Christmas Carol and their

ample boards groaned under the weight of hospitality. He had travelled

a good deal on both sides of the Atlantic and he gives a picturesque

account of an old English stage coach journey "on the day preceding

Christmas." The coach was crowded with passengers. "It was also loaded

with hampers of game, and baskets and boxes of delicacies; and hares

hung dangling their long ears about the coachman's box, presents from

distant friends for the impending feast. I had three fine rosy-cheeked

schoolboys for my fellow-passengers inside, full of the buxom health

and manly spirit which I have observed in the children of this

country. They were returning home for the holidays in high glee, and

promising themselves a world of enjoyment. It was delightful to hear

the gigantic plans of the little rogues, and the impracticable feats

they were to perform during their six weeks' emancipation from the

abhorred thraldom of book, birch, and pedagogue."

Then follows Irving's graphic sketch of the English stage coachman,

and the incidents of the journey, during which it seemed "as if

everybody was in good looks and good spirits.

"Game, poultry, and other luxuries of the table, were in brisk

circulation in the villages; the grocers,' butchers,' and fruiterers'

shops were thronged with customers. The house-wives were stirring

briskly about, putting their dwellings in order; and the glossy

branches of holly, with their bright red berries, began to appear at

the windows."

* * * * *

"In the evening we reached a village where I had determined to pass

the night. As we drove into the great gateway of the inn, I saw on one

side the light of a rousing kitchen fire beaming through a window. I

entered, and admired, for the hundredth time, that picture of

convenience, neatness, and broad, honest enjoyment, the kitchen of an

English inn. It was of spacious dimensions, hung round with copper and

tin vessels highly polished, and decorated here and there with a

Christmas green.... The scene completely realised poor Robin's [1684]

humble idea of the comforts of mid-winter:

'Now trees their leafy hats do bare

To reverence winter's silver hair;

A handsome hostess, merry host,

A pot of ale now and a toast,

Tobacco and a good coal fire,

Are things this season doth require.'"

Mr. Irving afterwards depicts, in his own graphic style, the Christmas

festivities observed at an old-fashioned English hall, and tells how

the generous squire pointed with pleasure to the indications of good

cheer reeking from the chimneys of the comfortable farmhouses, and low

thatched cottages. "I love," said he, "to see this day well kept by

rich and poor; it is a great thing to have one day in the year, at

least, when you are sure of being welcome wherever you go, and of

having, as it were, the world all thrown open to you; and I am almost

disposed to join with poor Robin, in his malediction on every churlish

enemy to this honest festival:

"'Those who at Christmas do repine,

And would fain hence despatch him,

May they with old Duke Humphry dine,

Or else may Squire Ketch catch 'em.'

"The squire went on to lament the deplorable decay of the games and

amusements which were once prevalent at this season among the lower

orders, and countenanced by the higher; when the old halls of castles

and manor-houses were thrown open at daylight; when the tables were

covered with brawn, and beef, and humming ale; when the harp and the

carol resounded all day long, and when rich and poor were alike

welcome to enter and make merry. 'Our old games and local customs,'

said he, 'had a great effect in making the peasant fond of his home,

and the promotion of them by the gentry made him fond of his lord.

They made the times merrier, and kinder and better; and I can truly

say with one of our old poets:

"'I like them well--the curious preciseness

And all-pretended gravity of those

That seek to banish hence these harmless sports,

Have thrust away much ancient honesty.'"

[Illustration]

THE CHRISTMASES OF QUEEN VICTORIA

have been kept with much bountifulness, but after the gracious manner

of a Christian Queen who cares more for the welfare of her beloved

subjects than for ostentatious display. Her Majesty's Royal bounties

to the poor of the metropolis and its environs, and also to others in

the country districts surrounding the several Royal Palaces are well

known, the ancient Christmas and New Year's gifts being dispensed with

great generosity. The number of aged and afflicted persons usually

relieved by the Lord High Almoner in sums of 5s. and 13s. exceeds an

aggregate of 1,200. Then there is the distribution of the beef--a most

interesting feature of the Royal Bounty--which takes place in the

Riding School at Windsor Castle, under the superintendence of the

several Court officials. The meat, divided into portions of from three

pounds to seven pounds, and decorated with sprigs of holly, is

arranged upon a table placed in the middle of the Riding School, and

covered with white cloths from the Lord Steward's department of the

palace. During the distribution the bells of St. John's Church ring a

merry peal. There are usually many hundreds of recipients and the

weight of the beef allotted amounts to many thousands of pounds. Coals

and clothing and other creature comforts are liberally dispensed,

according to the needs of the poor. In times of war and seasons of

distress hospitable entertainments, Christmas-trees, &c., are also

provided for the wives and children of soldiers and sailors on active

service; and in many other ways the Royal Bounty is extended to the

poor and needy at Christmastide.

THE CHRISTMAS AT WINDSOR CASTLE, IN 1841,

is thus referred to in the "Life of the Prince Consort" (by Theodore

Martin):--

"When Christmas came round with its pleasant festivities and its

shining Christmas-trees, it had within it a new source of delight for

the Royal parents. 'To think,' says the Queen's 'Journal,' 'that we

have two children now, and one who enjoys the sight already, is like a

dream!' And in writing to his father the Prince expresses the same

feeling. 'This,' he says, 'is the dear Christmas Eve, on which I have

so often listened with impatience for your step, which was to usher us

into the present-room. To-day I have two children of my own to give

presents to, who, they know not why, are full of happy wonder at the

German Christmas-tree and its radiant candles.'

"The coming year was danced into in good old English fashion. In the

middle of the dance, as the clock finished striking twelve, a flourish

of trumpets was blown, in accordance with a German custom. This, the

Queen's 'Journal' records, 'had a fine solemn effect, and quite

affected dear Albert, who turned pale, and had tears in his eyes, and

pressed my hand very warmly. It touched me too, for I felt that he

must think of his dear native country, which he has left for me.'"

CHRISTMAS AT OSBORNE.

Writing from Cowes, on Christmas Eve, in reference to the Christmas

festivities at Osborne in the last decade of the nineteenth century, a

correspondent says:--

"After transacting business the Queen drove out this afternoon,

returning to Osborne just as the setting sun illumines with its rosy

rays the Paladin Towers of her Majesty's marine residence. The Queen

desires to live, as far as the cares of State permit, the life of a

private lady. Her Majesty loves the seclusion of this lordly estate,

and here at Christmas time she enjoys the society of her children and

grandchildren, who meet together as less exalted families do at this

merry season to reciprocate the same homely delights as those which

are experienced throughout the land.

"This afternoon a pleasant little festivity has been celebrated at

Osborne House, where her Majesty, with an ever-kindly interest in her

servants and dependants, has for many years inaugurated Christmas in a

similar way, the children of her tenantry and the old and infirm

enjoying by the Royal bounty the first taste of Christmas fare. The

Osborne estate now comprises 5,000 acres, and it includes the Prince

Consort's model farm. The children of the labourers--who are housed in

excellent cottages--attend the Whippingham National Schools, a pretty

block of buildings, distant one mile from Osborne. About half the

number of scholars live upon the Queen's estate, and, in accordance

with annual custom, the mistresses of the schools, the Misses Thomas,

accompanied by the staff of teachers, have conducted a little band of

boys and girls--fifty-four in all--to the house, there to take tea and

to receive the customary Christmas gifts. Until very recently the

Queen herself presided at the distribution; but the Princess Beatrice

has lately relieved her mother of the fatigue involved; for the

ceremony is no mere formality, it is made the occasion of many a

kindly word the remembrance of which far outlasts the gifts. All sorts

of rumours are current on the estate for weeks before this Christmas

Eve gathering as to the nature of the presents to be bestowed, for no

one is supposed to know beforehand what they will be; but there was a

pretty shrewd guess to-day that the boys would be given gloves, and

the girls cloaks. In some cases the former had had scarves or cloth

for suits, and the latter dresses or shawls. Whatever the Christmas

presents may be, here they are, arranged upon tables in two long

lines, in the servants' hall. To this holly-decorated apartment the

expectant youngsters are brought, and their delighted gaze falls upon

a huge Christmas-tree laden with beautiful toys. Everybody knows that

the tree will be there, and moreover that its summit will be crowned

with a splendid doll. Now, the ultimate ownership of this doll is a

matter of much concern; it needs deliberation, as it is awarded to the

best child, and the judges are the children themselves. The trophy is

handed to the keeping of Miss Thomas, and on the next 1st of May the

children select by their votes the most popular girl in the school to

be elected May Queen. To her the gift goes, and no fairer way could be

devised. The Princess Beatrice always makes a point of knowing to whom

the prize has been awarded. Her Royal Highness is so constantly a

visitor to the cottagers and to the school that she has many an

inquiry to make of the little ones as they come forward to receive

their gifts.

"The girls are called up first by the mistress, and Mr. Andrew Blake,

the steward, introduces each child to the Princess Beatrice, to whom

Mr. Blake hands the presents that her Royal Highness may bestow them

upon the recipients with a word of good will, which makes the day

memorable. Then the boys are summoned to participate in the

distribution of good things, which, it should be explained, consist

not only of seasonable and sensible clothing, but toys from the tree,

presented by the Queen's grandchildren, who, with their parents, grace

the ceremony with their presence and make the occasion one of family

interest. The Ladies-in-Waiting also attend. Each boy and girl gets in

addition a nicely-bound story-book and a large slice of plum pudding

neatly packed in paper, and if any little one is sick at home its

portion is carefully reserved. But the hospitality of the Queen is not

limited to the children. On alternate years the old men and women

resident on the estate are given, under the same pleasant auspices,

presents of blankets or clothing. To-day it was the turn of the men,

and they received tweed for suits. The aged people have their pudding

as well. For the farm labourers and boys, who are not bidden to this

entertainment, there is a distribution of tickets, each representing a

goodly joint of beef for the Christmas dinner. The festivity this

afternoon was brought to a close by the children singing the National

Anthem in the courtyard.

"The Queen is accustomed to spend Christmas Day very quietly,

attending service at the Chapel at Osborne in the morning, and in the

evening the Royal family meeting at dinner. There are Christmas trees

for the children, and for the servants too, but the houshold reserves

its principal festivity for the New Year--a day which is specially set

aside for their entertainment."

THE CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES AT SANDRINGHAM

are observed with generous hospitality by their Royal Highnesses the

Prince and Princess of Wales, who take special interest in the

enjoyment of their tenants, and also remember the poor. A

time-honoured custom on Christmas Eve is the distribution of prime

joints of meat to the labourers employed on the Royal estate, and to

the poor of the five parishes of Sandringham, West Newton, Babingley,

Dersingham, and Wolferton. From twelve to fifteen hundred pounds of

meat are usually distributed, and such other gifts are made as the

inclemency of the season and the necessities of the poor require. In

Sandringham "Past and Present," 1888, Mrs. Herbert Jones

says:--"Sandringham, which is the centre of a generous hospitality,

has not only been in every way raised, benefited, and enriched since

it passed into the royal hands, which may be said to have created it

afresh, but rests under the happy glow shed over it by the preference

of a princess

"'Whose peerless feature joinèd with her birth,

Approve her fit for none but for a king.'

Shakespeare's _Henry VI_."

The Christmas Generosity of the late Duke of Edinburgh.

In a letter to the press a lieutenant of Marines makes the following

reference to a Christmas entertainment given by H.R.H. the Duke of

Edinburgh, in 1886: "Last night a large party, consisting of many

officers of the Fleet, including all the 'old ships' of the Duke, and

three or four midshipmen from every ship in the Fleet, were invited to

a Christmas-tree at S. Antonio Palace. In the course of the evening

two lotteries were drawn, all the numbers being prizes, each guest

consequently getting two. I have had an opportunity of seeing many of

these, and they are all most beautiful and useful objects, ranging in

value from five shillings to perhaps three or four pounds. I should

think that at least half the prizes I have seen were worth over one

pound."

OTHER SEASONABLE HOSPITALITY AND BENEVOLENCE.

The good example set by royalty is followed throughout the land.

Friendly hospitalities are general at Christmastide, and in London and

other large centres of population many thousands of poor people are

provided with free breakfasts, dinners, teas, and suppers on Christmas

Day, public halls and school-rooms being utilised for purposes of

entertainment; children in hospitals are plentifully supplied with

toys, and Christmas parties are also given to the poor at the private

residences of benevolent people. As an illustrative instance of

generous Christmas hospitality by a landowner we cite the following:--

CHRISTMAS DINNER TO FIVE THOUSAND POOR.

On Christmas Eve, 1887, Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, Bart., the largest

landowner in the Principality of Wales, gave his annual Christmas

gifts to the aged and deserving poor throughout the extensive mining

districts of Ruabon, Rhosllanerchrugog, Cern, and Rhosymedre,

Denbighshire, where much distress prevailed in consequence of the

depression in trade. Several fine oxen were slain in Wynnstay Park,

and the beef was distributed in pieces ranging from 4lb. to 7lb.,

according to the number of members in each family. A Christmas dinner

was thus provided for upwards of 5,000 persons. In addition to this,

Lady Williams Wynn provided thousands of yards of flannel and cloth

for clothing, together with a large number of blankets, the aged men

and women also receiving a shilling with the gift. The hon. baronet

had also erected an elaborate spacious hospital to the memory of his

uncle, the late Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, M.P., and presented it to

the parish.

DISTRIBUTIONS OF CHRISTMAS FARE TO THE POOR

are liberally made from various centres in different parts of London,

and thus many thousands of those who have fallen below the poverty

line share in the festivities of Christmastide.

This illustration of Christian caterers dispensing creature comforts

to the poor children may be taken as representative of many such

Christmas scenes in the metropolis. For over forty years the St.

Giles' Christian Mission, now under the superintendence of Mr. W. M.

Wheatley, has been exercising a beneficial influence among the needy

poor, and, it is stated, that at least 104,000 people have through

this Mission been enabled to make a fresh start in life. Many other

Church Missions are doing similar work. In addition to treats to poor

children and aged people at Christmastide, there are also great

distributions of Christmas fare:--Joints of roasting meat,

plum-puddings, cakes, groceries, warm clothing, toys, &c., &c.

[Illustration: POOR CHILDREN'S TREAT IN MODERN TIMES.]

At a recent distribution of a Christmas charity at Millbrook,

Southampton, the Rev. A. C. Blunt stated that one of the recipients

had nearly reached her 102nd year. She was born in Hampshire, and down

to a very recent period had been able to do needlework.

In many cities and towns Christmas gifts are distributed on St.

Thomas's Day, and as an example we cite the Brighton distribution in

1886, on which occasion the Brighton Police Court was filled by a

congregation of some of the "oldest inhabitants." And there was a

distribution from the magistrates poor-box of a Christmas gift of half

a sovereign to 150 of the aged poor whose claims to the bounty had

been inquired into by the police. Formerly 100 used to be cheered in

this way, but the contributions to the box this year enabled a wider

circle to share in the dole. There was a wonderful collection of old

people, for the average age was over 83 years. The oldest was a

venerable widow, who confessed to being 96 years old, the next was

another lady of 94 years, and then came two old fellows who had each

attained 93 years. Many of the recipients were too infirm to appear,

but the oldest of them all, the lady of 96 came into court despite the

sharpness of the wind and the frozen roads.

THE CHRISTMAS AT BELVOIR CASTLE,

kept with generous liberality by the Duke of Rutland, in 1883, may be

cited as an example of Christmas customs continued by the head of a

noble house:

"The usual Christmas gifts were given to the poor of Knipton,

Woolsthorpe, and Redmile--nearly two hundred in number--consisting of

calico, flannel dresses, stockings, and handkerchiefs, each person at

the same time receiving a loaf of bread and a pint of ale. Twenty-one

bales of goods, containing counterpanes, blankets, and sheets, were

also sent to the clergy of as many different villages for distribution

amongst the poor. The servants at the Castle and workmen of the

establishment had their Christmas dinner, tea, and supper, the servants'

hall having been beautifully decorated. At one end of the room was a

coronet, with the letter 'R'; and at the opposite end three coronets,

with the 'peacock in pride,' being the crest of the Rutland family.

The following mottoes, in large letters, were conspicuous, 'Long live

the Duke of Rutland,' 'Long live Lord and Lady John Manners and

family,' and 'A Merry Christmas to you all.' These were enclosed in a

neat border. From the top of the room were suspended long festoons of

linked ribbons of red, white, blue, and orange. All present thoroughly

enjoyed themselves, as it was the wish of his Grace they should do."

Similar hospitalities are dispensed by other noblemen and gentlemen in

different parts of the country at Christmas.

* * * * *

The lordly hospitality of Lincolnshire is depicted in

"THE BARON'S YULE FEAST:

A Christmas Rhyme; by Thomas Cooper, the Chartist" (1846); which is

inscribed to the Countess of Blessington, and in the advertisement the

author offers "but one apology for the production of a metrical essay,

composed chiefly of imperfect and immature pieces: The ambition to

contribute towards the fund of Christmas entertainment." The scene of

the Baron's Yule Feast is depicted in Torksey's Hall, Torksey being

one of the first towns in Lincolnshire in the Saxon period. After some

introductory verses the writer says:

"It is the season when our sires

Kept jocund holiday;

And, now, around our charier fires,

Old Yule shall have a lay:--

A prison-bard is once more free;

And, ere he yields his voice to thee,

His song a merry-song shall be!

Sir Wilfrid de Thorold freely holds

What his stout sires held before--

Broad lands for plough and fruitful folds,--

Though by gold he sets no store;

And he saith, from fen and woodland wolds

From marish, heath, and moor,--

To feast in his hall

Both free and thrall,

Shall come as they came of yore.

* * * * *

Now merrily ring the lady-bells

Of the nunnery by the Fosse:--

Say the hinds their silver music swells

'Like the blessed angels' syllables,

At His birth who bore the cross.'

And solemnly swells Saint Leonard's chime

And the great bell loud and deep:--

Say the gossips, 'Let's talk of the holy time

When the shepherds watched their sheep;

And the Babe was born for all souls' crime

In the weakness of flesh to weep.'--

But, anon, shrills the pipe of the merry mime

And their simple hearts upleap.

'God save your souls, good Christian folk!

God save your souls from sin!--

Blythe Yule is come--let us blythely joke!'--

Cry the mummers ere they begin.

Then, plough-boy Jack, in kirtle gay,--

Though shod with clouted shoon,--

Stands forth the wilful maid to play

Who ever saith to her lover, 'Nay'--

When he sues for a lover's boon.

While Hob the smith with sturdy arm

Circleth the feigned maid;

And, spite of Jack's assumed alarm,

Busseth his lips, like a lover warm,

And will not 'Nay' be said

Then loffe the gossips, as if wit

Were mingled with the joke:

Gentles,--they were with folly smit,--

Natheless, their memories acquit

Of crime--these simple folk!

No harmful thoughts their revels blight,--

Devoid of bitter hate and spite,

They hold their merriment;--

And, till the chimes tell noon at night,

Their joy shall be unspent!

Come haste ye to bold Thorold's hall,

And crowd his kitchen wide;

For there, he saith, both free and thrall

Shall sport this good Yule-tide."

In subsequent verses the writer depicts the bringing in of the yule

log to the Baron's Hall,

"Where its brave old heart

A glow shall impart

To the heart of each guest at the festival.

* * * * *

They pile the Yule-log on the hearth,--

Soak toasted crabs in ale;

And while they sip, their homely mirth

Is joyous as if all the earth

For man were void of bale!

And why should fears for future years,

Mix jolly ale with thoughts of tears

When in the horn 'tis poured?

And why should ghost of sorrow fright

The bold heart of an English knight

When beef is on the board?

De Thorold's guests are wiser than

The men of mopish lore;

For round they push the smiling can

And slice the plattered store.

And round they thrust the ponderous cheese,

And the loaves of wheat and rye;

None stinteth him for lack of ease--

For each a stintless welcome sees

In the Baron's blythesome eye.

The Baron joineth the joyous feast--

But not in pomp or pride;

He smileth on the humblest guest

So gladsomely--all feel that rest

Of heart which doth abide

Where deeds of generousness attest

The welcome of the tongue professed

Is not within belied."

* * * * *

In subsequent verses a stranger minstrel appears on the festive scene,

and tells his tale of love in song, acquitting himself

"So rare and gentle, that the hall

Rings with applause which one and all

Render who share the festival."

[Illustration]

Some of the poets of this period have dealt playfully with the

festivities of Christmastide, as, for example, Laman Blanchard (1845)

in the following effusion:--

CHRISTMAS CHIT-CHAT.

In a Large Family Circle.

"The day of all days we have seen

Is Christmas," said Sue to Eugene;

"More welcome in village and city

Than Mayday," said Andrew to Kitty.

"Why 'Mistletoe's' twenty times sweeter

Than 'May,'" said Matilda to Peter;

"And so you will find it, if I'm a

True prophet," said James to Jemima.

"I'll stay up to supper, no bed,"

Then lisped little Laura to Ned.

"The girls all good-natured and dressy,

And bright-cheeked," said Arthur to Jessie;

"Yes, hoping ere next year to marry,

The madcaps!" said Charlotte to Harry.

"So steaming, so savoury, so juicy,

The feast," said fat Charley to Lucy.

"Quadrilles and Charades might come on

Before dinner," said Martha to John.

"You'll find the roast beef when you're dizzy,

A settler," said Walter to Lizzy.

"Oh, horrid! one wing of a wren,

With a pea," said Belinda to Ben.

"Sublime!" said--displaying his leg--

George Frederick Augustus to Peg.

"At Christmas refinement is all fuss

And nonsense," said Fan to Adolphus.

"Would romps--or a tale of a fairy--

Best suit you," said Robert to Mary.

"At stories that work ghost and witch hard,

I tremble," said Rosa to Richard.

"A ghostly hair-standing dilemma

Needs 'bishop,'" said Alfred to Emma;

"What fun when with fear a stout crony

Turns pale," said Maria to Tony;

"And Hector, unable to rally,

Runs screaming," said Jacob to Sally.

"While you and I dance in the dark

The polka," said Ruth unto Mark:

"Each catching, according to fancy,

His neighbour," said wild Tom to Nancy;

"Till candles, to show what we can do,

Are brought in," said Ann to Orlando;

"And then we all laugh what is truly a

Heart's laugh," said William to Julia.

"Then sofas and chairs are put even,

And carpets," said Helen to Stephen;

"And so we all sit down again,

Supping twice," said sly Joseph to Jane.

"Now bring me my clogs and my spaniel,

And light me," said Dinah to Daniel.

"My dearest, you've emptied that chalice

Six times," said fond Edmund to Alice.

"We are going home tealess and coffeeless

Shabby!" said Soph to Theophilus;

"To meet again under the holly,

_Et cetera_," said Paul to fair Polly.

"Dear Uncle, has ordered his chariot;

All's over," said Matthew to Harriet.

"And pray now be all going to bedward,"

Said kind Aunt Rebecca to Edward!

CHRISTMAS EVE, 1849,

is the time of Robert Browning's beautiful poem of "Christmas Eve and

Easter Day," in which the poet sings the song of man's immortality,

proclaiming, as Easter Day breaks and Christ rises, that

"Mercy every way is infinite."

[Illustration]

And, in his beautiful poem of "In Memoriam," Lord Tennyson

associates some of his finest verses with the ringing of

THE CHRISTMAS BELLS.

"Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,

The flying cloud, the frosty light:

The year is dying in the night;

Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,

Ring, happy bells, across the snow:

The year is going, let him go;

Ring out the false, ring in the true.

* * * * *

Ring out old shapes of foul disease;

Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;

Ring out the thousand wars of old,

Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,

The larger heart, the kindlier hand;

Ring out the darkness of the land,

Ring in the Christ that is to be."

[Illustration]

[Illustration: THE CHRISTMAS BELLS.]

As the poet Longfellow stood on the lofty tower of Bruges

Cathedral the belfry chimes set him musing, and of those

chimes he says:

"Then most musical and solemn, bringing back the olden times,

With their strange, unearthly changes, rang the melancholy chimes,

Like the psalms from some old cloister, when the nuns sing in the

choir;

And the great bell tolled among them, like the chanting of a friar.

Visions of the days departed, shadowy phantoms filled my brain:

They who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again."

CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEAR CARDS

were first circulated in England in 1846. That year not more than a

thousand copies were printed, and that was considered a large sale.

The numbers distributed annually soon increased to tens and hundreds

of thousands, and now there are millions of them. Mr. J. C. Horsley,

a member of the Royal Academy, designed this first card which

was sent out in 1846. It represents a family party of three

generations--grandfather and grandmother, father and mother, and

little children--and all are supposed to be joining in the sentiment,

"A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you." The card was issued

from the office of one of the periodicals of the time, _Felix

Summerley's Home Treasury_. It was first lithographed, and then it was

coloured by hand.

Christmas and New Year Cards became very popular in the decade

1870-1880. But then, however, simple cards alone did not suffice. Like

many other things, they felt the influence of the latter-day

_renaissance_ of art, and by a sort of evolutionary process developed

cards monochrome and coloured, "Christmas Bell" cards, palettes,

scrolls, circular and oval panels, stars, fans, crescents, and other

shaped novelties; embossed cards, the iridescent series, the rustic

and frosted cards, the folding series, the jewel cards, the crayons,

and private cards on which the sender's name and sentiments are

printed in gold, silver, or colours; hand-painted cards with

landscapes, seascapes, and floral decorations; paintings on porcelain;

satin cards, fringed silk, plush, Broché, and other artistically

made-up novelties; "art-gem" panels; elaborate booklets, and other

elegant souvenirs of the festive season. Many of the Christmas

booklets are beautifully illustrated editions of popular poems and

carols.

"Quartette" cards, "Snap" cards, and other cards of games for the

diversion of social gatherings are also extensively used at

Christmastide.

[Illustration]

RUSTIC CHRISTMAS MASQUE.

In compliance with a wish expressed by the Lady Londesborough, a

Masque, entitled, "Recollections of Old Christmas," was performed at

Grimston at Christmas, 1850, the following prologue being contributed

by Barry Cornwall:--

"When winter nights grow long,

And winds without blow cold,

We sit in a ring round the warm wood-fire,

And listen to stories old!

And we try to look grave (as maids should be),

When the men bring in boughs of the laurel tree.

O the laurel, the evergreen tree!

The poets have laurels--and why not we?

How pleasant when night falls down,

And hides the wintry sun,

To see them come in to the blazing fire,

And know that their work is done;

Whilst many bring in, with a laugh or rhyme,

Green branches of holly for Christmas time!

O the holly, the bright green holly!

It tells (like a tongue) that the times are jolly!

Sometimes--(in _our_ grave house

Observe this happeneth not;)

But at times, the evergreen laurel boughs,

And the holly are all forgot!

And then! what then? Why the men laugh low,

And hang up a branch of--the misletoe!

Oh, brave is the laurel! and brave is the holly!

But the misletoe banisheth melancholy!

Ah, nobody knows, nor ever _shall_ know,

What is done under the misletoe!"

A printed copy of the Masque, which bears date, "Tuesday, XXIV

December, MDCCCL.," is preserved in the British Museum.

"CHARACTERS

(Which speak)

"Old Father Christmas Hon. Mr. Thelluson

Young Grimston Hon. Mr. Denison

Baron of Beef Hon. Miss Thelluson

Plum-Pudding Hon. Miss Denison

Mince-Pie Hon. Miss Selina Denison

Wassail-Bowl Hon. Miss Isabella Denison

"CHARACTERS

(Which do not speak, or say as little as possible--all that they are

requested to do)

Ursa Minor Hon. Miss Ursula Denison

Baby Cake Hon. Henry Charles Denison."

[Illustration]

UNDER THE HOLLY BOUGH.

Ye who have scorn'd each other

Or injured friend or brother,

In this fast fading year;

Ye who, by word or deed,

Have made a kind heart bleed,

Come gather here.

Let sinn'd against and sinning,

Forget their strife's beginning;

Be links no longer broken,

Be sweet forgiveness spoken,

Under the holly bough.

Ye who have lov'd each other,

Sister and friend and brother,

In this fast fading year:

Mother, and sire, and child,

Young man and maiden mild,

Come gather here;

And let your hearts grow fonder,

As memory shall ponder

Each past unbroken vow.

Old loves and younger wooing,

Are sweet in the renewing,

Under the holly bough.

Ye who have nourished sadness,

Estranged from hope and gladness,

In this fast fading year.

Ye with o'er-burdened mind

Made aliens from your kind,

Come gather here.

Let not the useless sorrow

Pursue you night and morrow,

If e'er you hoped--hope now--

Take heart: uncloud your faces,

And join in our embraces

Under the holly bough.

_Charles Mackay, LL.D._

The author of this beautiful poem (Dr. Charles Mackay) was born at

Perth in 1814, and died on Christmas Eve, 1889, at his residence,

Longridge Road, Earl's Court, Brompton.

GHOST STORIES.

Everybody knows that Christmas is the time for ghost stories, and that

Charles Dickens and other writers have supplied us with tales of the

true blood-curdling type. Thomas Hood's "Haunted House," S. T.

Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner," and some other weird works of poetry

have also been found serviceable in producing that strange chill of

the blood, that creeping kind of feeling all over you, which is one of

the enjoyments of Christmastide. Coleridge (says the late Mr. George

Dawson)[88] "holds the first place amongst English poets in this

objective teaching of the vague, the mystic, the dreamy, and the

imaginative. I defy any man of imagination or sensibility to have

'The Ancient Mariner' read to him, by the flickering firelight on

Christmas night, by a master mind possessed by the mystic spirit of

the poem, and not find himself taken away from the good regions of

'ability to account for,' and taken into some far-off dreamland, and

made even to start at his own footfall, and almost to shudder at his

own shadow. You shall sit round the fire at Christmas time, good men

and true every one of you; you shall come there armed with your patent

philosophy; that creak you have heard, it is only the door--the list

is not carefully put round the door, and it is the wintry wind that

whistles through the crevices. Ghosts and spectres belong to the olden

times; science has waved its wand and laid them all. We have no

superstition about us; we walk enlightened nineteenth-century men; it

is quite beneath us to be superstitious. By and bye, one begins to

tell tales of ghosts and spirits; and another begins, and it goes all

round; and there comes over you a curious feeling--a very

unphilosophical feeling, in fact, because the pulsations of air from

the tongue of the storyteller ought not to bring over you that

peculiar feeling. You have only heard words, tales--confessedly by the

storyteller himself only tales, such as may figure in the next monthly

magazine for pure entertainment and amusement. But why do you feel so,

then? If you say that these things are mere hallucinations, vague

air-beating or tale-telling, why, good philosopher, do you feel so

curious, so all-overish, as it were? Again, you are a man without the

least terror in you, as brave and bold a man as ever stepped: living

man cannot frighten you, and verily the dead rise not with you. But

you are brought, towards midnight, to the stile over which is gained a

view of the village churchyard, where sleep the dead in quietness.

Your manhood begins just to ooze away a little; you are caught

occasionally whistling to keep your courage up; you do not expect to

see a ghost, but you are ready to see one, or to make one." At such a

moment, think of the scene depicted by Coleridge:--

"'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high;

The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck,

For a charnel-dungeon fitter:

All fixed on me their stony eyes,

That in the moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,

Had never passed away:

I could not draw my eyes from theirs,

Nor turn them up to pray."

With this weird tale in his mind in the mystic stillness of midnight

would an imaginative man be likely to deny the reality of the spirit

world? The chances are that he would be spellbound; or, if he had

breath enough, would cry out--

"Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!"

"In the year 1421, the widow of Ralph Cranbourne, of Dipmore End, in

the parish of Sandhurst, Berks, was one midnight alarmed by a noise in

her bedchamber, and, looking up, she saw at her bedfoot the appearance

of a skeleton (which she verily believed was her husband) nodding and

talking to her upon its fingers, or finger bones, after the manner of

a dumb person. Whereupon she was so terrified, that after striving to

scream aloud, which she could not, for her tongue clave to her mouth,

she fell backward as in a swoon; yet not so insensible withal but she

could see that at this the figure became greatly agitated and

distressed, and would have clasped her, but upon her appearance of

loathing it desisted, only moving its jaw upward and downward, as if

it would cry for help but could not for want of its parts of speech.

At length, she growing more and more faint, and likely to die of fear,

the spectre suddenly, as if at a thought, began to swing round its

hand, which was loose at the wrist, with a brisk motion, and the

finger bones being long and hard, and striking sharply against each

other, made a loud noise like to the springing of a watchman's rattle.

At which alarm, the neighbours running in, stoutly armed, as against

thieves or murderers, the spectre suddenly departed."[89]

"His shoes they were coffins, his dim eye reveal'd

The gleam of a grave-lamp with vapours oppress'd;

And a dark crimson necklace of blood-drops congeal'd

Reflected each bone that jagg'd out of his breast."[90]

[Illustration]

WELCOME TO CHRISTMAS.

By MARY HOWITT.

He comes--the brave old Christmas!

His sturdy steps I hear;

We will give him a hearty welcome,

For he comes but once a year!

And of all our old acquaintance

'Tis he we like the best;

There's a jolly old way about him--

There's a warm heart in his breast.

He is not too proud to enter

Your house though it be mean;

Yet is company fit for a courtier,

And is welcomed by the Queen!

He can tell you a hundred stories

Of the Old World's whims and ways,

And how they merrily wish'd him joy

In our fathers' courting days.

He laughs with the heartiest laughter

That does one good to hear;

'Tis a pity so brave an old fellow

Should come but once a year!

But once, then, let us be ready,

With all that he can desire--

With plenty of holly and ivy,

And a huge log for the fire;

With plenty of noble actions,

And plenty of warm good-will;

With our hearts as full of kindness

As the board we mean to fill.

With plenty of store in the larder,

And plenty of wine in the bin;

And plenty of mirth for the kitchen;

Then open and let him in!

Oh, he is a fine old fellow--

His heart's in the truest place;

You may know that at once by the children,

Who glory to see his face.

For he never forgets the children,

They all are dear to him;

You'll see that with wonderful presents

His pockets are cramm'd to the brim.

Nor will he forget the servants,

Whether you've many or one;

Nor the poor old man at the corner;

Nor the widow who lives alone.

He is rich as a Jew, is Old Christmas,

I wish he would make me his heir;

But he has plenty to do with his money,

And he is not given to spare.

Not he--bless the good old fellow!

He hates to hoard his pelf;

He wishes to make all people

As gay as he is himself.

So he goes to the parish unions--

North, south, and west and east--

And there he gives the paupers,

At his own expense a feast.

He gives the old men tobacco,

And the women a cup of tea;

And he takes the pauper children,

And dances them on his knee.

I wish you could see those paupers

Sit down to his noble cheer,

You would wish, like them, and no wonder,

That he stay'd the livelong year.

Yes, he is the best old fellow

That ever on earth you met;

And he gave us a boon when first he came

Which we can never forget.

So we will give him a welcome

Shall gladden his old heart's core!

And let us in good and gracious deeds

Resemble him more and more!

_December 21, 1850._

WASSAILING THE APPLE-TREES.

Writing on this subject, in the _Antiquary_, March, 1895, Mr. Harry

Hems, of Exeter, introduces the reduced copy of an illustration which

appears on the following page, and which he states was published in

the _Illustrated London News_, January 11, 1851.

The picture (says Mr. Hems) "presents, as will be seen, a frosty,

moonlight night, with a brilliantly-lit old farmhouse in the

background. In the fore are leafless fruit-trees, and three men firing

guns at them, whilst the jovial farmer and another man drink success

to the year's crop from glasses evidently filled from a jug of cider,

which the latter also holds a-high. A crowd of peasants--men, women

and children--are gathered around, and the following description is

appended:--

"'Amongst the scenes of jocund hospitality in this holiday season,

that are handed down to us, is one which not only presents an

enlivening picture, but offers proof of the superstition that still

prevails in the Western counties. On Twelfth-even, in Devonshire, it

is customary for the farmer to leave his warm fireside, accompanied by

a band of rustics, with guns, blunderbusses, &c., presenting an

appearance which at other times would be somewhat alarming. Thus

armed, the band proceeds to an adjoining orchard, where is selected

one of the most fruitful and aged of the apple-trees, grouping round

which they stand and offer up their invocations in the following

quaint doggerel rhyme:--

"'Here's to thee,

Old apple-tree!

Whence thou mayst bud,

And whence thou mayst blow,

And whence thou mayst bear

Apples enow:

Hats full,

Caps full,

Bushels, bushels, sacks full,

And my pockets full too!

Huzza! huzza!'"

[Illustration: WASSAILING THE APPLE-TREES IN DEVONSHIRE.]

The cider-jug is then passed round, and, with many a hearty shout, the

party fire off their guns, charged with powder only, amidst the

branches, sometimes frightening the owl from its midnight haunt. With

confident hopes they return to the farmhouse, and are refused

admittance, in spite of all weather, till some lucky wight guesses

aright the peculiar roast the maidens are preparing for their comfort.

This done, all enter, and soon right merrily the jovial glass goes

round, that man who gained admittance receiving the honour of King for

the evening, and till a late hour he reigns, amidst laughter, fun, and

jollity. The origin of this custom is not known, but it is supposed to

be one of great antiquity.

"'The illustration is from a sketch by Mr. Colebrooke, Stockdale.'"

We may add that, in the seventeenth century, a similar custom seems to

have been observed in some places on Christmas Eve, for in Herrick's

_Hesperides_ the wassailing of fruit trees is among the Christmas Eve

ceremonies:--

"Wassail the trees, that they may beare

You many a plum, and many a peare;

For more or less fruits they will bring,

As you do give them wassailing."

CHRISTMAS MORNING IN EXETER CATHEDRAL.

Writing from Exeter, in 1852, a correspondent says "the custom of

welcoming this season of holy joy with 'psalms and hymns and spiritual

songs' lingers in the cathedral city of Exeter; where, during

Christmas Eve, the parish choirs perambulate the streets singing

anthems, with instrumental accompaniments. The singing is protracted

through the night, when the celebration often assumes a more secular

character than is strictly in accordance with the festival. A more

sacred commemoration is, however, at hand.

"At a quarter-past seven o'clock on Christmas morning the assemblage

of persons in the nave of Exeter Cathedral is usually very numerous:

there are the remnants of the previous vigil, with unwashed faces and

sleepy eyes; but a large number are early risers, who have left their

beds for better purposes than a revel. There is a great muster of the

choir, and the fine Old Hundredth Psalm is sung from the gallery to a

full organ, whose billows of sound roll through the vaulted edifice.

The scene is strikingly picturesque: all is dim and shadowy; the red

light from the flaring candles falling upon upturned faces, and here

and there falling upon a piece of grave sculpture, whilst the grey

light of day begins to stream through the antique windows, adding to

the solemnity of the scene. As the last verse of the psalm peals

forth, the crowd begins to move, and the spacious cathedral is soon

left to the more devout few who remain to attend the morning service

in the Lady-chapel."

A WELSH CHRISTMAS.

From the "Christmas Chronicles of Llanfairpwllycrochon," by R. P.

Hampton Roberts, in _Notes and Queries_, December 21, 1878, we quote

the following:

"Now Thomas Thomas, and Mary Jones, and all their neighbours, had

great veneration for Christmas, and enjoyed much pleasure in

looking forward to the annual recurrence of the feast. Not that

they looked upon it as a feast in any ecclesiastical sense, for

Llanfairpwllycrochon was decidedly Calvinistically Methodist, and

rejected all such things as mere popish superstition.

"The Christmas goose was a great institution at Llanfairpwllycrochon.

The annual goose club had no existence there, it is true, but the

annual goose had nevertheless. Thomas Thomas, after his memorable

visit to London, came home imbued with one English idea which startled

the villagers more than anything had done since the famous bonfire on

the outlying hill when the heir came of age, and it was a long time

before they recovered from their surprise. It was nothing less

than a proposition to substitute beef for the Christmas dinner

instead of a goose. Here was a sad falling off from the ways of

Llanfairpwllycrochon! And Thomas Thomas was a man who persisted in an

idea once it entered his mind--an event of rare occurrence, it is

true, and consequently all the more stubborn whenever it did occur.

Thomas Thomas had, however, sufficient respect for the opinion of his

neighbours to make him compromise matters by providing for himself

alone a small beefsteak as an adjunct to the time-honoured goose.

"Another Christmas institution at Llanfairpwllycrochon was the

universal pudding, mixed as is wont by every member of the family.

Then there was the bun-loaf, or _barabrith_, one of the grand

institutions of Llanfairpwllycrochon. Many were the pains taken over

this huge loaf--made large enough to last a week or fortnight,

according to the appetites of the juvenile partakers--and the combined

"Christmas-boxes" of the grocer and baker went to make up the

appetising whole, with much more in addition.

"Christmas Eve was a day of exceeding joy at Llanfairpwllycrochon. The

manufacture of paper ornaments and 'kissing bushes,' radiant with

oranges, apples, paper roses, and such like fanciful additions as

might suit the taste or means of the house-holder, occupied most of

the day. And then they had to be put up, and the house in its

Christmas decorations looked more resplendent than the imagination of

the most advanced villager--at present at school, and of the mature

age of five and a half years, the rising hope of the schoolmaster, and

a Lord Chancellor in embryo in fine--could have pictured. As a reward

for the day's toil came the night's sweet task of making _cyflath_,

_i.e._, toffee. Thomas Thomas, and those who spoke the Saxon tongue

among the villagers, called it 'taffy.' Once had Thomas Thomas been

corrected in his pronunciation, but the hardy Saxon who ventured on

the bold proceeding was silenced when he heard that he was not to

think he was going to persuade a reasonable man into mutilating the

English tongue. 'Taffy it iss, and taffy I says,' and there was an end

of the matter. Without taffy the inhabitants of Llanfairpwllycrochon,

it was firmly believed by the vicar, would not have known the

difference between Christmas and another time, and it is not therefore

matter for surprise that they should so tenaciously cling to its

annual making. At midnight, when the syrupy stuff was sufficiently

boiled, it would be poured into a pan and put into the open air to

cool. Here was an opportunity for the beaux of the village which could

not be missed. They would steal, if possible, the whole, pan and all,

and entail a second making on the unfortunate victims of their

practical joke.

"Sometimes the Christmas Eve proceedings would be varied by holding a

large evening party, continued all night, the principal amusement of

which would be the boiling of toffee, one arm taking, when another was

tired, the large wooden spoon, and turning the boiling mass of sugar

and treacle, this process being continued for many hours, until

nothing would be left to partake of but a black, burnt sort of crisp,

sugary cinder. Sometimes the long boiling would only result in a soft

mass, disagreeable to the taste and awkward to the hand, the combined

efforts of each member of the party failing to secure consistency or

strength in the mixed ingredients.

"And then there were the carols at midnight, and many more were the

Christmas customs at Llanfairpwllycrochon."

EFFECTS OF THE SEASON.

"These Christmas decorations are _so_ jolly!"

She cried, zeal shining in her orbs of blue.

"_Don't_ you like laurel gleaming under holly?"

He answered, "_I_ love mistletoe over _yew_!"--_Punch._

[Illustration: "ST. GEORGE" IN COMBAT WITH "ST. PETER."]

YORKSHIRE SWORD-ACTORS.

Under this title, Mr. T. M. Fallow, M.A., F.S.A., writing in the

_Antiquary_, May, 1895, gives an account of rustic performances which

were witnessed at Christmastide in the neighbourhood of Leeds about

fifteen years earlier, and he illustrates the subject with a series of

pictures from photographs taken at the time, which are here

reproduced. The play depicted is that of the "Seven Champions of

Christendom," and in the picture on the preceding page "St. George" is

shown engaged in combat with "St. Peter," while "St. Andrew" and "St.

Denys" are each kneeling on one knee, a sign of their having been

vanquished.

"It may be well to point out," says Mr. Fallow, "that in the West

Riding, or at any rate in the neighbourhood of Leeds, the sword-actors

were quite distinct from the 'mummers.' They generally numbered nine

or ten lads, who, disguised by false beards as men, were dressed in

costume as appropriate to the occasion as their knowledge and finances

would permit, and who acted, with more or less skill, a short play,

which, as a rule, was either the 'Peace Egg' or the 'Seven Champions

of Christendom.' The following illustration shows two of the

'champions,' as photographed at the time stated:--

[Illustration: "ST. PETER." "ST. DENYS."]

"There was a little indefiniteness," says Mr. Fallow, "as to the

characters represented in the play, but usually they were the King of

Egypt, his daughter, a fool or jester, St. George, St. Andrew, St.

Patrick, St. David, St. Denys, St. James, and a St. Thewhs, who

represented a Northern nation--Russia, or sometimes Denmark--and whose

exact identity seems obscure. The seven champions occasionally

included St. Peter of Rome, as in the group whose photograph is given.

St. George engaged in mortal combat with each champion in succession,

fighting for the hand of the King of Egypt's daughter. When at length

each of the six was slain, St. George, having vanquished them all, won

the fair lady, amid the applause of the bystanders. Then, at the

conclusion, after a general clashing and crossing of swords, the fool

or jester stepped forward, and wound up the performance with an appeal

for pecuniary recognition."

OTHER CHRISTMAS PERFORMANCES.

In a Christmas article, published in 1869, Dr. Rimbault mentions the

performance of "St. George and the Dragon" in the extreme western and

northern parts of the country. The following five characters are

given: Father Christmas, Turkish Knight, King of Egypt, St. George,

Doctor. Other writers mention similar plays, with variations of

characters, as seen in the rural parts of Northamptonshire,

Warwickshire, and Staffordshire, and the present writer has himself

seen such plays at Madeley, in Shropshire.

S. Arnott, of Turnham Green, writing in _Notes and Queries_, December

21, 1878, says: "When I was living at Hollington, near Hastings, in

the year 1869, the village boys were in the habit of visiting the

houses of the gentry at Christmas time to perform a play, which had

been handed down by tradition." The description of the play which then

followed shows that it was another variation of the well-known

Christmas play, and included the "Turkish Knight," the "Bold Slasher,"

and other familiar characters.

A SCOTCH FIRST FOOTING.

Writing on "Mid-winter Customs in the North," Mr. Edward Garrett says

"it is not easy to write of 'Christmas customs in the North,' because

many of them, even though connected with the Christmas festival, do

not take place till January 6th, that being Christmas Day, Old Style,

while most of them are associated with the New Year, either Old or New

Style, one of the most striking celebrations coming off on January

11th, regarded as 'New Year's Eve.'

"Christmas itself has never been a national Scottish festival since

the Reformation. On its purely festive side, it has become somewhat of

a 'fashion' of late years, but its ancient customs have only lingered

on in those districts where Episcopacy has taken deep root. Such a

district is 'Buchan'--a track of country in the north-east of

Aberdeenshire--a place which cannot be better described than in the

words of one of its own gifted sons, Dr. Walter Smith:--

"'A treeless land, where beeves are good,

And men have quaint, old-fashioned ways,

And every burn has ballad lore,

And every hamlet has its song,

And on its surf-beat, rocky shore

The eerie legend lingers long.

Old customs live there, unaware

That they are garments cast away,

And what of light is lingering there

Is lingering light of yesterday.'"

[Illustration: A SCOTCH FIRST FOOTING.]

YULETIDE CUSTOMS IN SHETLAND.

The inherent Scandinavianism of the Shetlander, which leads him to

repudiate the appellation of Scotchman, and to cherish in secret the

old customs and superstitions of his ancestors, asserts itself yearly

in the high jinks with which he continues to honour the old holy days

of Yule. Until within the last two or three years, he pertinaciously

adhered to the old style in his observance of these festivities. On

Christmas Eve, New Year's Eve, and Uphelya--the twenty-fourth day

after Yule, and that on which the holy or holidays are supposed to be

"up"--the youths of Lerwick, attired in fantastic dresses, go

"guising" about the town in bands, visiting their friends and

acquaintances and reproducing in miniature the carnival of more

southern climes. On one or other of these occasions a torchlight

procession forms part of the revelry. Formerly blazing tar barrels

were dragged about the town, and afterwards, with the first break of

morning, dashed over the Knab into the sea. But this ancient and

dangerous custom has very properly been discontinued. The dresses of

the guisers are often of the most expensive and fanciful description.

Highlanders, Spanish cavaliers, negro minstrels, soldiers in the

peaked caps, kerseymere breeches, and scarlet coats turned up with

buff, of the reign of George II., Robin Hoods, and Maid Marians were

found in the motley throng. Some, with a boldness worthy of

Aristophanes himself, caricature the dress, the walk, or some other

eccentricity of leading personages in the town; others--for the spirit

of "the Happy Land" has reached these hyperborean regions--make

pleasant game of well-known political characters. Each band of guisers

has its fiddler, who walks before it, playing "Scalloway Lasses," or

"The Foula Reel," or "The Nippin' Grund," or some other archaic tune.

Thus conducted, and blowing a horn to give notice of their approach,

the maskers enter the doors of all houses which they find open, dance

a measure with the inmates, partake of and offer refreshment, and then

depart to repeat the same courtesies elsewhere. At daylight the horn

of the Most Worthy Grand Guiser, a mysterious personage, whose

personality and functions are enveloped in the deepest concealment, is

heard summoning all the bands to end their revels, and when, in the

cold grey dawn of the winter morning, the worthy citizens of Lerwick

awake to pursue their wonted avocations, not a trace remains of the

saturnalia of the night before.--Sheriff Rampini, in _Good Words_.

Now, passing from the islands to the sea itself, it is pleasant to

note that in recent years Christian hearts have carried

CHRISTMAS CHEER TO THE NORTH SEA FISHERMEN.

Through the "Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen" twelve thousand brave and

hardy fishermen have been cheered at Christmastide, for to their

fleets the Mission's vessels now take medical and surgical aid, books

and magazines, woollen garments and tobacco, which, as adjuncts to

higher religious aid, are turning the once wild and desperate

ocean roughs into clean-living sailors and good husbands and

fathers--therefore are these days on the North Sea better far than

those that are gone. Thousands of these brave men turn at Christmas to

the M.D.S.F. flag as to the one bright link which binds them to

friendly hearts ashore, assuring them that in England's Christmas

festivities they and their like have a real part, and are no longer

forgotten.

Some facts recorded by the Rev. John Sinclair[91] illustrate the

dangers of the wild winter sea, and also set forth some

CHRISTMAS EXPERIENCES IN THE ORKNEY ISLES.

They were related to Mr. Sinclair by Mr. Traill, chief of the clan,

with whom he stayed on the occasion of his visit to the island of

Pappa Westra. The first of the two incidents was as follows:--"One

Christmas Day," says Mr. Traill, "during a heavy gale, I wrapped my

cloak about me, and started off with my telescope to walk upon the

cliffs. Coming to the other side of the island, on which the surf was

beating violently, I observed a vessel a few miles off fire a signal

of distress. I hastened to the nearest point, and with the help of my

glass perceived that she was Dutch built, and that, having lost her

rudder, she was quite unmanageable. She fired several guns at short

intervals, and my people came in large numbers to give assistance. But

the surf was so fearful that nothing could be done. No boat could have

lived a moment in such a sea. We were all utterly helpless. As the

vessel drifted towards us, I could see the whole tragedy as distinctly

as if it had been acted on the stage. Immediately below me were a

number of my fellow-creatures, now alive and in health, and in a few

moments they would all be mangled corpses. I could make out the

expression of their features, and see in what manner each was

preparing for inevitable death. But whether they climbed up into the

shrouds, or held by ropes on deck while the sea was washing over the

bulwarks, their fate was the same. The first wave lifted the vessel so

high that I almost thought it would have placed her upon the land. She

fell back, keel upwards. The next wave struck her with such terrific

force against the cliffs that she was shivered at once into a thousand

pieces; hardly two planks held together. It seemed as if she had been

made of glass. Not a soul escaped. One or two bodies, with a few

planks and casks, were all that ever reached the shore." Well might

Mr. Traill add, "I was haunted for months by the remembrance of that

heartrending sight."

The other story related by Mr. Traill shows that a Christmas party may

be detained indefinitely in one of these remote islands, should the

weather prove unfavourable. At Christmastide, a former Laird of Westra

"collected a numerous party from all the neighbouring islands to

celebrate the christening of his eldest son." His hospitalities cost

him dear. A storm arose; his guests could not get away; instead of

enjoying their society for a few days, he was obliged to entertain

them at a ruinous expense for many weeks. His larder, his cellar, and

his barns, were by degrees exhausted. His farm stock had all

been slaughtered, except the old bull, which he was reserving as a

last resource, when at length the wind abated, and a calm delivered

him from this ruinous situation.

Thus it appears that in these remote islands of Scotland Christmas is

not forgotten. But a writer in a well-known Scotch journal says the

surest sign of the general joy is "Christmas in the Workhouse":--

"Christmas was gay in the old squire's hall,

Gay at the village inn,

Cheery and loud by the farmer's fire,

Happy the manse within;

But the surest signs of the general joy,

And that all the world was happy--very,

Were the sounds that proved at the workhouse door

That even 'the paupers' were merry."

A REMARKABLE CHRISTMAS GATHERING.

The Greenwich Hospital for Sick Seamen of all Nations presented on

Christmas Day, 1880, a remarkable gathering of national

representatives. There were 179 sailors, representing 31

nationalities, belonging to ships of 19 distinct nations. They were

summed up thus:--England, 77; Wales, 3; Scotland, 9; Ireland, 11;

Norway, 10; Sweden, 9; Finland, 6; United States, 5; Denmark, 5;

British India, 4; France, 3; Germany, 3; Nova Scotia, 3; Russia, 2;

Austria, 2; Italy, 2; Cape de Verd Islands, 2; Chili, 2; Jamaica, 2;

Barbadoes, 2; St. Thomas, 2; Spain, 1; Portugal, 1; Canada, 1; New

Brunswick, 1; Transvaal, 1; Gold Coast, 1; Brazil, 1; St. Kitts, 1;

Mauritius, 1; Society Islands, 1. The mercantile marines represented

were no bad index to the proportion of the carrying trade of the world

each nation undertakes:--England, 96 vessels; Ireland, 3; Scotland,

16; Wales, 4; Norway, 7; Sweden, 5; United States, 6; Denmark, 2;

France, 2; Germany, 3; Nova Scotia, 7; Russia, 2; Netherlands, 4;

Channel Islands, 2; New Brunswick, 2; Italy, 1; Zanzibar, 1; Spain, 1.

The early morning brought warm Christmas wishes to the patients. Each

found by his bedside a packet addressed to him by name. Some good lady

had taken the enormous pains to work a pretty, and, at the same time,

stout and serviceable wallet, with the inscription, "My letters,"

embroidered thereupon, and to accompany this little gift, in every

case, with a short and seasonable letter of Christmas wishes, using

other languages than English, to suit the convenience of every

recipient. The initials under which these offerings came were "N. C.

H." Other gifts, Christmas cards and Christmas reading, in the shape

of magazines and illustrated papers were gladly welcomed.

The decorations of the corridors and rooms had given occupation to the

sick sailors for several days, and sentiments of loyalty to the Queen

and the Royal Family were abundantly displayed, together with

portraits of members of the Royal Family which had been drawn from

fancy.

The officers and nurses had dedicated to them some specimens of real

sailor poetry, combining the names of the staff. With grim humour, the

"operation room" bore above it "Nil desperandum"; and the decorated

walls of the hospital told the onlookers that "small vessels should

keep in shore," that "windmills are not turned by a pair of bellows,"

that "good things are not found in heaps," that "hasty people fish in

empty ponds," that "plenty, like want, ruins many," &c.

The dinner at one o'clock was a great success. All who could get out

of bed made it a point of honour to be present. But for adverse winds

keeping ships from entering the Thames, the guests would have been

more numerous. But, as it was, the patients under the roof numbered

179. There were, of course, difficulties of language; but no "Jack"

ever ploughed the sea who does not understand a Christmas dinner; and,

besides, the hospital in its nurses and staff possesses the means of

conversing in seventeen different languages.

The scene was a thoroughly Christmas one; and many other festive

scenes, almost as interesting, were seen in all parts of England.

Whether recorded or unrecorded, who does not rejoice in such efforts

to promote "goodwill amongst men," and long for the time--

"When peace shall over all the earth

Its ancient splendours fling,

And the whole world send back the song,

Which now the angels sing."

CHRISTMAS CRACKERS.

One of the popular institutions inseparable from the festivities of

Christmastide has long been the "cracker." The satisfaction which young

people especially experience in pulling the opposite ends of a gelatine

and paper cylinder is of the keenest, accompanied as the operation is by

a mixed anticipation--half fearful as to the explosion that is to

follow, and wholly delightful with regard to the bonbon or motto which

will thus be brought to light. Much amusement is afforded to the lads

and lassies by the fortune-telling verses which some of the crackers

contain. But the cracker of our early days was something far different

from what it is now. The sharp "crack" with which the article exploded,

and from which it took its name, was then its principal, and, in some

cases, its only feature; and the exclamation, "I know I shall scream,"

which John Leech, in one of his sketches, puts into the mouth of two

pretty girls engaged in cracker-pulling, indicated about the all of

delight which that occupation afforded. Since then, however, the cracker

has undergone a gradual development. Becoming by degrees a receptacle

for bon-bons, rhymed mottoes, little paper caps and aprons, and similar

toys, it has passed on to another and higher stage, and is even made a

vehicle for high art illustrations. Considerable artistic talent has

been introduced in the adornment of these novelties. For instance, the

"Silhouette" crackers are illustrated with black figures, comprising

portraits of well-known characters in the political, military, and

social world, exquisitely executed, while appropriate designs have been

adapted to other varieties, respectively designated "Cameos,"

"Bric-a-brac," "Musical Toys," &c.; and it is quite evident that the

education of the young in matters of good taste is not overlooked in the

provision of opportunities for merriment.

SANTA CLAUS AND THE STOCKING.

Hang up the baby's stocking! Be

sure you don't forget! The dear

little dimpled darling, she never

saw   Christmas   yet!   But   I've

told her all about it, and she opened

her  big  blue  eyes; and I'm sure

she understood it--she  looked so

funny and wise. * * *  Dear, what

a tiny stocking!  It doesn't take

much to hold such little pink toes

as baby's away from the frost and

cold.  But then,  for  the baby's

Christmas, it will never do at all.

Why! Santa wouldn't be looking

for    anything    half   so

small.  * * *  I know what

will do for the baby. I've

thought of the very best

plan.   I'll  borrow  a

stocking  of Grandma's,

the longest that ever

I can.  And you'll

hang  it  by  mine,

dear mother, right

here in the corner,

so!   And  leave  a

letter to Santa, and

fasten   it on to the

toe. * * * Write--this

is the baby's stocking,

that hangs in the corner

here.  You  never have

seen her, Santa, for

she only came this

year.   But she's

just the blessed'st

baby.   And now

before  you  go,

just  cram  her

stocking  with

goodies, from

the top clean

down to

the

toe!

FATALLY BURNT IN CHRISTMAS COSTUMES.

The Christmastide of 1885-6 was marred by two fatal accidents which

again illustrate the danger of dressing for entertainments in

highly-inflammable materials. In the first case a London lady, on

Boxing Night, was entertaining some friends, and appeared herself in

the costume of _Winter_. She was dressed in a white robe of thin

fabric, and stood under a canopy from which fell pieces of cotton wool

to represent snowflakes, and in their descent one of them caught light

at the candelabra, and fell at deceased's feet. In trying to put it

out with her foot her dress caught fire, and she was immediately

enveloped in flames. So inflammable was the material that, although

prompt assistance was rendered, she was so severely burnt as to become

unconscious. A medical man was sent for, and everything possible was

done for her; but she sank gradually, and died from exhaustion. The

second of these tragical incidents plunged a Paris family in deep

sorrow. The parents, who lived in a beautiful detached house in the

Rue de la Bienfaisance, had arranged that their children and some

youthful cousins were to play before a party of friends on New Year's

Night on the stage of a little theatre which had just been added to

their house. The play was to represent the decrepit old year going out

and the new one coming in. The eldest daughter, a charming girl of

fourteen, was to be the good genius of 1886, and to be dressed in a

loose transparent robe. On the appointed evening, after the company

had assembled, she donned her stage costume and ran into her mother's

bedroom to see how it became her. While looking at herself in a mirror

on the toilette table her loose sleeve came in contact with the flame

of a candle and blazed up. She screamed for help and tried to roll

herself in the bed clothes; but the bed, being covered with a lace

coverlet and curtained with muslin was also set on fire, and soon the

whole room was ablaze. By the time help arrived the girl's clothes

were all burning into the flesh; but such was her vitality that, in

spite of the dreadful state in which every inch of her body was, she

survived the accident many hours.

Similar disasters occurred at Christmas festivities in 1889, at

Detroit, and in 1891, at Wortley, Leeds. In the former several little

children were fatally burnt, and in the latter fifteen children were

set on fire, eleven of them fatally.

[Illustration]

CHRISTMAS LITERATURE

is too large a subject to enter upon at length, for a bulky volume

would scarcely suffice to describe the numerous Christmas annuals,

illustrated Christmas numbers, newspaper supplements and variety

papers which have become popular at Christmastide since the first

appearance of Dickens's "Christmas Stories." The development of the

Christmas trade in this light literature has been marvellous, and it

is increasing year by year. And the same may be said of the charming

gift-books which are published annually just before Christmas.

CHRISTMAS LETTER MISSIONS.

Through the various letter missions that have been established

thousands of Christmas letters and illustrated missives, bright with

anecdote, are despatched annually to the inmates of convalescent homes

and hospitals, and are heartily welcomed by the recipients, for every

one likes to be remembered on Christmas Day.

THE POST-OFFICE OFFICIALS AND POSTMEN

have, however, been very heavily weighted with these new Christmas

customs. They have inflicted upon postmen and letter-sorters an amount

of extra labour that is almost incredible. The postal-parcel work is

also very heavy at the festive season.

THE RAILWAYS AT CHRISTMAS.

"Home for the holidays, here we go;

Bless me, the train is exceedingly slow!

Pray, Mr. Engineer, get up your steam,

And let us be off, with a puff and a scream!

We have two long hours to travel, you say;

Come, Mr. Engineer, gallop away!"[92]

This familiar verse recalls the eagerness of the schoolboy to be home

for the Christmas holidays. And adults are no less eager to join their

friends at the festive season; many travel long journeys in order to

do so. Hence the great pressure of work on railway employés, and the

congested state of the traffic at Christmastide. Two or three days

before Christmas Day the newspapers publish what are called "railway

arrangements," detailing the privileges granted by this and that

company, and presenting the holiday traveller with a sort of

appetising programme; and any one who will spend an hour at any of the

great termini of the metropolis at this period can see the remarkable

extent to which the public avail themselves of the facilities offered.

The growth of railway travelling at Christmastide has, indeed, been

marvellous in recent years, and it becomes greater every year. The

crowded state of the railway stations, and the trains that roll out of

them heavily laden with men, women, and children, wedged together by

parcels bursting with good cheer, show most unmistakably that we have

not forgotten the traditions of Christmas as a time of happy

gatherings in the family circles of Old England.

* * * * *

But, as there is also much Christmas-keeping in other parts of the

world, we pass now to--

[79] Huish's "Life of George the Third."

[80] _Gentleman's Magazine_, 1790.

[81] Copied from an undated leaflet inserted in the

British Museum copy of Brand's "Antiquities," by the late

Mr Joseph Hazlewood.

[82] Hone's "Every-day Book," 1826.

[83] Herbert H. Adams.

[84] "A black Christmas makes a fat kirk-yard." A windy

Christmas and a calm Candlemas are signs of a good year.

[85] The "savoury haggis" (from _hag_ to chop) is a dish

commonly made in a sheep's maw, of its lungs, heart, and

liver, mixed with suet, onions, salt, and pepper; or of

oatmeal mixed with the latter, without any animal food.

[86] F. Lawrence.

[87] "Old English Customs and Charities," 1842.

[88] "Biographical Lectures."

[89] "History of Berks," vol. xxv.

[90] "Grim, King of the Ghosts."

[91] "Old Times and Distant Places," 1875.

[92] Eliza Cook.

[Illustration]

_CHAPTER XII._

MODERN CHRISTMASES ABROAD.

CHRISTMAS-KEEPING IN THE ARCTIC REGIONS, 1850-1.

"The bluejackets are generally better hands than the red-coats at

improvising a jollification--Jack, at any rate, does not take his

pleasures sadly. The gallant bands that have from time to time gone

forth to a bloodless campaign in the icy north, have always managed to

keep their Christmas right joyously. Certainly they could not complain

of uncongenial skies or unseasonable temperatures; while, so far as

snow and ice are necessary to thorough enjoyment, the supply in the

Arctic regions is on a scale sufficient to satisfy the most ardent

admirer of an old-fashioned Christmas. The frozen-in Investigators

under McClure kept their first Arctic Christmas soberly, cheerfully,

and in good fellowship, round tables groaning with good cheer, in the

shape of Sandwich Island beef, musk veal from the Prince of Wales's

Strait, mince-meat from England, splendid preserves from the Green

Isle, and dainty dishes from Scotland. Every one talked of home, and

speculated respecting the doings of dear ones there; and healths were

drunk, not omitting those of their fellow-labourers sauntering

somewhere in the regions about, but how near or how far away none

could tell. When the festival came round again, the _Investigator_ and

_Enterprise_ were alone in their glory, and they were separated by

miles of frozen sea; but they had solved the great problem.[93] On

board the _Investigator_, frost-bound in the Bay of Mercy, things went

as merry as the proverbial marriage-bell. After divine service,

everybody took a constitutional on the ice until dinner-time; then the

officers sat down to a meal of which the _pièce de résistance_ was a

haunch of Banks' Island reindeer, weighing twenty pounds, with fat two

inches thick, and a most delicious flavour; while the crew were

regaling upon venison and other good things, double allowance of grog

included; and dinner discussed, dancing, singing, and skylarking

filled up the holiday hours till bedtime; the fun being kept up with

unflagging humour, and with such propriety withal as to make their

leader wish the anxious folks at home could have witnessed the scene

created amidst so many gloomy influences, by the crew of a ship after

two years' sojourn in those ice-bound regions upon their own

resources. Another Christmas found the brave fellows still confined in

their snowy prison; but their table boasted plum-pudding rich enough

for Arctic appetites, Banks' Land venison, Mercy Bay hare-soup,

ptarmigan pasties, and musk-ox beef--hung-beef, surely, seeing it had

been dangling in the rigging above two years. The poets among the men

wrote songs making light of the hardships they had endured; the

painters exhibited pictures of past perils; comic actors were not

wanting; and the whole company, casting all anxiety to the winds,

enjoyed themselves to the utmost."[94]

In the spring of 1870, before the breaking out of the Franco-German

war, Germany sent out two ships, the _Germania_ and the _Hansa_, with

the hope of reaching the North Pole. As is usually the case in Arctic

expeditions, little could be done during the first season, and the

ships were obliged to take up their winter-quarters off the east coast

of Greenland. They had already been separated, so that the crew of one

vessel, had no idea of the condition of the other. An officer upon the

_Germania_ gives the following interesting account of their Christmas

festivities in the Arctic regions:--

"To the men who have already lived many weary months among the

icebergs, Christmas signifies, in addition to its other associations,

that the half of their long night--with its fearful storms, its

enforced cessation of all energy, its discomfort and sadness--has

passed, and that the sun will soon again shed its life and

warmth-giving beams on the long-deserted North. From this time the

grim twilight, during which noon has been hardly distinguishable from

the other hours, grows daily lighter, until at length all hearts are

gladdened, and a cheerful activity is once again called forth by the

first glimpse of the sun. Christmas, the midnight of the Arctic

explorer, thus marks a period in his life which he has good cause to

consider a joyful one.

"For days before the festival, an unusual activity was observable all

over the ship; and as soon as the severe storm which raged from

December 16th to the 21st had abated, parties were organised, under

our botanist, Dr. Pansch, to certain points of Sabine Island, near to

which we were anchored, where, in a strangely sheltered nook, several

varieties of a native Greenland evergreen plant, _Andromeda

tetragona_, were to be found. A great quantity of this plant was

conveyed on board, to be converted into a Christmas-tree. Under the

orders of Dr. Pansch, the Andromeda was wound round small pieces of

wood, several of which were attached, like fir-twigs, to a large

bough; and when these boughs were fastened to a pole, they formed a

very respectable fir-tree.

"After dinner on Christmas Day, the cabin was cleared for the

completion of the preparations; and on our recall at six o'clock, we

found that all had assumed an unwontedly festive appearance. The walls

were decorated with the signal-flags and our national eagle; and the

large cabin table, somewhat enlarged to make room to seat seventeen

men, was covered with a clean white cloth, which had been reserved for

the occasion. On the table stood the 'fir' tree, shining in the

splendour of many little wax-lights, and ornaments with all sorts of

little treasures, some of which, such as the gilded walnuts, had

already seen a Christmas in Germany; below the tree was a small

present for each of us, provided long beforehand, in readiness for

the day, by loving friends and relatives at home. There was a packet

too for each of the crew, containing some little joking gift, prepared

by the mirth-loving Dr. Pansch, and a useful present also; while the

officers were each and all remembered.

"When the lights burned down, and the resinous Andromeda was beginning

to take fire, the tree was put aside, and a feast began, at which full

justice was done to the costly Sicilian wine with which a friend had

generously supplied us before we left home. We had a dish of roast

seal! Some cakes were made by the cook, and the steward produced his

best stores. For the evening, the division between the fore and aft

cabins was removed, and there was free intercourse between officers

and men; many a toast was drunk to the memory of friends at home, and

at midnight a polar ball was improvised by a dance on the ice. The

boatswain, the best musician of the party, seated himself with his

hand-organ between the antlers of a reindeer which lay near the ship,

and the men danced two and two on their novel flooring of hard ice!

"Such was our experience of a Christmas in the north polar circle; but

the uncertainties of Arctic voyaging are great, and the two ships of

our expedition made trial of the widely different fates which await

the travellers in those frozen regions: and while we on the _Germania_

were singularly fortunate in escaping accidents and in keeping our

crew, in spite of some hardships, in sound health and good spirits,

the _Hansa_ was crushed by the ice, and her crew, after facing

unheard-of dangers, and passing two hundred days on a block of ice,

were barely rescued to return home."

Yet even to the crew of the ill-fated _Hansa_ Christmas brought some

festivities. The tremendous gale which had raged for many days ceased

just before the day, and the heavy fall of snow with which it

terminated, and which had almost buried the black huts that the

shipwrecked men had constructed for themselves upon the drifting

icebergs from the _débris_ of the wreck, had produced a considerable

rise in the temperature, and there was every indication that a season

of calm might now be anticipated.

The log-book of the _Hansa_ thus describes the celebration of the

festival:--"The tree was erected in the afternoon, while the greater

part of the crew took a walk; and the lonely hut shone with wonderful

brightness amid the snow. Christmas upon a Greenland iceberg! The tree

was artistically put together of firwood and mat-weed, and Dr. Laube

had saved a twist of wax-taper for the illumination. Chains of

coloured paper and newly-baked cakes were not wanting, and the men had

made a knapsack and a revolver case as a present for the captain. We

opened the leaden chests of presents from Professor Hochstetter and

the Geological Society, and were much amused by their contents. Each

man had a glass of port wine; and we then turned over the old

newspapers which we found in the chests, and drew lots for the

presents, which consisted of small musical instruments such as fifes,

jew's-harps, trumpets, &c., with draughts and other games, puppets,

crackers, &c. In the evening we feasted on chocolate and gingerbread."

"We observed the day very quietly," writes Dr. Laube in his diary. "If

this Christmas be the last we are to see, it was at least a cheerful

one; but should a happy return home be decreed for us, the next will,

we trust, be far brighter. May God so grant!"

CHRISTMAS IN THE CRIMEA.

The Christmas of 1854 was a dismal one for the soldiers in the Crimea,

witnessing and enduring what Lord John Russell spoke of as "the

horrible and heartrending scenes of that Crimean winter."

"Thanks to General Muddle," says a journal of the period, "the Crimean

Christmas of 1854 was anything but what it ought to and might have

been; and the knowledge that plenty of good things had been provided

by thoughtful hearts at home, but which were anywhere but where they

were wanted, did not add to the merriment of our poor overworked,

underfed army; and although some desperate efforts were made to be

jolly on dreary outpost and in uncomfortable trenches, they only

resulted in miserable failure. The following Christmas was doubly

enjoyable by comparison. The stubborn fortress (Sebastopol) had fallen

at last to its more stubborn assailants; habit had deprived frost and

snow of their terrors, and every hut ran over with hams, preserves,

vegetables, and mysterious tins, till it resembled a grocer's store.

The valleys of Miscomia, too, were rich in mistletoe, to be had for

the trouble of gathering; but few cared to undergo that trouble for

the sake of what only reminded them of unattainable sweets, and made

them sigh for the girls they had left behind them."

In 1855, Messrs. Macmillan & Co. published a poem by H. R. F.,

entitled "Christmas Dawn, 1854," in which the writer pictures the

festivities marred by war:--

"A happy Christmas!

Happy! to whom? Perchance to infancy,

And innocent childhood, while the germ of sin,

Yet undeveloped, leaves a virgin soil

For joy, and Death and Sorrow are but names.

But who, that bears a mind matured to thought,

A heart to feel, shall look abroad this day

And speak of happiness? The church is deckt

With festive garlands, and the sunbeams glance

From glossy evergreens; the mistletoe

Pearl-studded, and the holly's lustrous bough

Gleaming with coral fruitage; but we muse

Of laurel blent with cypress. Gaze we down

Yon crowded aisle? the mourner's dusky weeds

Sadden the eye; and they who wear them not

Have mourning in their hearts, or lavish tears

Of sympathy on griefs too deeply lodged

For man's weak ministry.

A happy Christmas!

Ah me! how many hearths are desolate!

How many a vacant seat awaits in vain

The loved one who returns not! Shall we drain

The cheerful cup--a health to absent friends?

Whom do we pledge? the living or the dead?"

Thus did the poet, "sick at heart," explore "the realm of sorrow"; and

then again he mused:

"In humbler mood to hail the auspicious day,

Shine forth rejoicing in thy strength, O sun,

Shine through the dubious mists and tearful show'rs

That darken Hope's clear azure! Christ is born,

The life of those who wake, and those who sleep--

The Day-spring from on high hath looked on us;

And we, who linger militant on earth,

Are one in Him, with those, the loved and lost,

Whose early graves keep the red field they won

Upon a stranger shore. Ah! not in vain

Went up from many a wild Crimean ridge

The soldier's pray'r, responsive to the vows

Breathed far away in many an English home.

Not vain the awakened charities, that gush

Through countless channels--Christian brotherhoods

Of mercy; and that glorious sister-band

Who sow by Death's chill waters!--Not in vain,

My country! ever loved, but dearest now

In this thine hour of sorrow, hast thou learnt

To bow to Him who chastens. We must weep--

We may rejoice in weeping"

CHRISTMAS IN ABYSSINIA.

Wherever Englishmen are on the 25th of December, there is Christmas.

Whether it be in the icy regions of the Arctic zone, or in the

sweltering heat of tropical sunshine, the coming round of the great

feast brings with it to every Englishman a hearty desire to celebrate

it duly. And if this cannot be done in exactly home-fashion, the

festival is kept as happily as circumstances will allow. In this

spirit did our soldiers keep Christmas in Abyssinia, in 1867, with the

thermometer at seventy-five in the shade, and even here the edibles

included at least one traditional dish--a joint of roast beef. There

was also an abundance of spur-fowls, guinea-fowls, venison, mutton,

&c., and the place in which the festive board was spread was decorated

with branches of fir and such other substitutes for holly and

mistletoe as could be found.

CHRISTMAS-KEEPING IN INDIA

at different periods shows the same determination of our British

soldiers to honour the Christmas festival.

In 1857, the saviours of our Indian Empire very nearly lost their

Christmas. The army was encamped at Intha, within sight of Nepaul,

waiting for the rain to clear off and the tents to dry, ere it moved

on to drive the Sepoys into the Raptee. The skies cleared on Christmas

morning, and Lord Clyde was for marching at once, but relented in time

to save the men's puddings from being spoiled--not only relented, but

himself gave a Christmas banquet, at which the favoured guests sat

down to well-served tables laden with barons of beef, turkeys, mutton,

game, fish, fowls, plum-puddings, mince-pies, &c. To allay the thirst

such substantial fare created, appeared beakers of pale ale from

Burton and Glasgow; porter from London and Dublin; champagne, moselle,

sherry, and old port, 'rather bothered by travelling twenty miles a

day on a camel back.' Following the chief's example, each regiment had

a glorious spread, and throughout the wide expanse of tents sounds of

rejoicing were heard, for the soldiers kept Christmas right merrily.

Similarly,

THE BRITISH SOLDIERS AND SAILORS IN SOUTH AFRICA

did their best to observe the Christmas festival in good old English

style, even during the sieges of Ladysmith, Kimberley, and Mafeking,

when provisions were to be had only at famine prices. The ingenious

Tommy Atkins, in distant lands, has often found sylvan substitutes for

mistletoe and holly, and native viands to take the place of

plum-puddings and mince-pies, but it is not so easy to find

substitutes for the social circles in old England, and when the time

comes round for the Christmas dance Tommy's thoughts "Return again to

the girl I've left behind me."

Moreover, it sometimes falls to the lot of soldiers and war

correspondents to spend their Christmas in most outlandish places. Mr.

Archibald Forbes has left on record (in the _English Illustrated

Magazine_, 1885) an interesting account of his own Christmastide in

the Khyber Pass.

In his graphic style the intrepid war correspondent describes the

"ride long and hard" which Kinloch and he had through the Khyber to

Jelalabad plain to fulfil "the tryst they had made to spend Christmas

Day with the cheery comrades of Sir Sam Browne's headquarter staff."

They had an adventurous journey together from the Dakka camp to

Jumrood, where Forbes left Kinloch with Maude's division.

Further on, Mr. Forbes says: "I am not prepared to be definite, after

five years, as to the number of plum-puddings forming that little

hillock on the top of my dâk-gharry between Jhelum and Peshawur, on

the apex of which sat the faithful John amidst a whirl of dust. At

Peshawur the heap of Christmas gifts were loaded into the panniers of

a camel, and the ship of the desert started on its measured solemn

tramp up through the defiles of the Khyber." Then Mr. Forbes tells us

how he joined Kinloch again at General Maude's headquarters at

Jumrood. Kinloch "had not forgotten his tryst, but meanwhile there

were military duties to be done." After the discharge of these

"military duties," which included a night march to surprise a

barbarous clan called Zukkur-Kehls, Forbes and Kinloch joined General

Tytler's column on its return march to Dakka, because at Dakka they

would be nearer to their friends of Sir Sam Browne's headquarters.

"Tytler determined to make his exit from the Zukkur-Kahl Valley by a

previously unexplored pass, toward which the force moved for its

night's bivouac. About the entrance to the glen there was a fine

forest of ilex and holly, large, sturdy, spreading trees, whence

dangled long sprays of mistletoe; the mistletoe bough was here indeed,

and Christmas was close, but where the fair ones whom, under other

circumstances, the amorous youth of our column would have so

enthusiastically led under that spray which accords so sweet a

license? The young ones prattled of those impossible joys; but the

seniors, less frivolous, were concerned by the increasing narrowness

of the gorge, and by the dropping fire that hung on our skirts as we

entered it. However, there was but one casualty--a poor fellow of the

17th Regiment had his thigh smashed by a bullet--and we spent the

night under the ilex trees without further molestation.... It was

Christmas Eve when we sat chatting with young Beatson in his lonely

post by the Chardai streamlet; but a few hours of morning riding would

carry us to Jellalabad whither Sir Sam Browne's camp had been

advanced, and we were easy on the score of being true to tryst. As in

the cold grey dawn we resumed our journey, leaving the young officer

who had been our host to concern himself with the watchfulness of his

picquets and the vigilance of his patrols, there was a sound of

unintentional mockery in the conventional wish of a 'Merry Christmas'

to the gallant lad, and there was a wistfulness in his answering

smile.... The road to the encampment, the white canvas of whose

tents showed through the intervening hills, was traversed at a hand

gallop; and presently Kinloch and myself found ourselves in the street

of the headquarter camp, shaking hands with friends and comrades, and

trying to reply to a medley of disjointed questions. The bugles were

sounding for the Christmas Day Church Parade as we finished a hurried

breakfast. Out there on the plain the British troops of the division

were standing in hollow square, the officers grouped in the centre....

The headquarter street we found swept and garnished, the flagstaff

bedecked with holly, and a regimental band playing 'Home, Sweet Home.'

Dear old Sir Sam Browne did not believe in luxury when on campaign,

but now for the first time I saw him at least comfortable.... The mess

anteroom was the camp street outside the dining tent; and at the

fashionable late hour of eight we 'went in' to dinner, to the strains

of the _Roast Beef of Old England_. It was a right jovial feast, and

the most cordial good-fellowship prevailed. He would have been a

cynical epicurean who would have criticised the appointments; the

banquet itself was above all cavil. Rummaging among some old papers

the other day, I found the _menu_, which deserves to be quoted:

'Soup--Julienne. Fish--Whitebait (from the Cabul River).

Entrées--Cotelettes aux Champignons, Poulets à la Mayonaise.

Joints--Ham and fowls, roast beef, roast saddle of mutton, boiled

brisket of beef, boiled leg of mutton and caper sauce. Curry--chicken.

Sweets--Lemon jelly, blancmange, apricot tart, plum-pudding. Grilled

sardines, cheese fritters, cheese, dessert.' Truth compels the avowal

that there was no table-linen, nor was the board resplendent with

plate or gay with flowers. Table crockery was deficient, or to be more

accurate, there was none. All the dishes were of metal, and the soup

was eaten, or rather drunk, out of mugs and iron teacups. But it

tasted none the worse on this account, and let it be recorded that

there _were_ champagne glasses, while between every two guests a

portly magnum reared its golden head. Except 'The Queen,' of course,

there were but two toasts after the feast--one was 'Absent Friends,'

drunk in a wistful silence, and the other, the caterer's health,

greeted with vociferous enthusiasm. A few fields off the wood had been

collecting all day for the Christmas camp-fire of the 10th Hussars,

and by ten o'clock the blaze of it was mounting high into the murky

gloom. A right merry and social gathering it was round the bright glow

of this Yule log in a far-off land. The flames danced on the wide

circle of bearded faces, on the tangled fleeces of the postheens, on

the gold braid of the forage caps, on the sombre hoods of beshliks....

The songs ranged from gay to grave; the former mood in the ascendency.

But occasionally there was sung a ditty, the associations with which

brought it about that there came something strangely like a tear into

the voice of the singer, and that a yearning wistfulness fell upon the

faces of the listeners. The bronzed troopers in the background shaded

with their hands the fire-flash from their eyes; and as the familiar

homely strain ceased that recalled home and love and trailed at the

heart strings till the breast felt to heave and the tears to rise,

there would be a little pause of eloquent silence which told how

thoughts had gone astraying half across the globe to the loved ones in

dear old England, and were loath to come back again to the rum and the

camp fire in Jellalabad plain. Ah, how many stood or sat around that

camp fire that were never to see old England more? The snow had not

melted on the Sufed Koh when half a squadron of the troopers were

drowned in the treacherous Cabul river. No brighter soul or sweeter

singer round that fire than Monty Slade; but the life went out of

Monty Slade with his face to the foe and his wet sword grasped in a

soldier-grip; and he lies under the palm trees by the wells of El

Teb."

CHRISTMAS IN CANADA.

In Canada the severe and long-continued frosts convert a good deal of

land and water into fields of ice, and skating is a very popular

amusement of Christmastide. Sleighing is also very fashionable, and

the large tracts of country covered with snow afford ample scope for

the pastime. The jingle of the sleigh bells is heard in all the

principal thoroughfares which at the season of the great winter

festival present quite an animated appearance. The ears of the sleigh

drivers are usually covered either by the cap or with a comforter,

which in very cold weather is also wrapped over the mouth and nose.

"Christmas Day," says an English Colonist, "is spent quietly in our

own houses. New Year's Day is the day of general rejoicing, when every

one either visits or receives their friends: and so, thinking of the

merry times we have had in Old England, and comparing them with the

quietness of to-day, we feel more like strangers in a strange land

than ever before.

"As a special treat, we are to have a real English Christmas dinner

to-day, and our housekeeper has made a wonderful plum-pudding. The

turkey is already steaming upon the table, and we soon fall to work

upon him. He is well cooked, but there seems to be something wrong

with his legs, which are so tough and sinewy that we come to the

conclusion that he must have been training for a walking match. The

rest of the dinner passes off very well, with the exception of the

plum-pudding, which has to be brought to the table in a basin, as it

firmly refuses to bind.

"After dinner we retire to the sitting-room, and sit round the stove

talking, while those of us addicted to the fragrant weed have a quiet

smoke. Thus passes Christmas afternoon.

"Tea-time soon comes round, and after we have refreshed ourselves, we

resolve to end the day by paying a visit to a neighbour who possesses

an American organ, and Christmas evening closes in to the music of

those sweet old carols which that evening are heard over the whole

world wherever an English colony is to be found."

CHRISTMAS IN AUSTRALIA.

Christmas festivities in Australia are carried on in what we should

call "summer weather." There is no lack of good cheer and good living,

but cold and snow are at this season unknown, and skating and

snowballing, as a consequence, are sports unheard of at Christmastide

by the youth in the Antipodes. Large parties and excursions are often

arranged for spending a short time in the parks and fields, and

Christmas picnics partake much of the character of English

"gipsy-parties." The inhabitants being chiefly English, many of the

ceremonies customary in English homes are observed, and the changes

that are made are enforced for the most part by the difference in

climate, and by the altered circumstances under which the various

festivities are arranged.

In "A Summer Christmas," Douglas B. W. Sladen thus describes the

Australian festivities:--

"The Christmas dinner was at two,

And all that wealth or pains could do

Was done to make it a success;

And marks of female tastefulness,

And traces of a lady's care,

Were noticeable everywhere.

The port was old, the champagne dry,

And every kind of luxury

Which Melbourne could supply was there.

They had the staple Christmas fare,

Roast beef and turkey (this was wild),

Mince-pies, plum-pudding, rich and mild,

One for the ladies, one designed

For Mr. Forte's severer mind,

Were on the board, yet in a way

It did not seem like Christmas day

With no gigantic beech yule-logs

Blazing between the brass fire-dogs,

And with 100° in the shade

On the thermometer displayed.

Nor were there Christmas offerings

Of tasteful inexpensive things,

Like those which one in England sends

At Christmas to his kin and friends,

Though the Professor with him took

A present of a recent book

For Lil and Madge and Mrs. Forte,

And though a card of some new sort

Had been arranged by Lil to face

At breakfast everybody's place.

When dinner ended nearly all

Stole off to lounges in the hall.

* * * * *

All save the two old folks and Lil,

Who made their hearts expand and thrill

By playing snatches, slow and clear,

Of carols they'd been used to hear

Some half a century ago

At High Wick Manor, when the two

Were bashful maidens: they talked on,

Of England and what they had done

On byegone Christmas nights at home,

Of friends beyond the Northern foam,

And friends beyond that other sea,

Yet further--whither ceaselessly

Travellers follow the old track,

But whence no messenger comes back."

CHRISTMAS IN NEW ZEALAND.

In 1887, we received a letter from Mr. W. M. Stanton, of Nelson, New

Zealand, giving the following interesting account of the colonists'

observance of Christmas:--

"And now, as to Christmas, I wish I could express all I feel on this

peculiarly English season of 'peace and goodwill.' I remember the

picturesque snow (seen here only on the distant blue mountain tops),

the icy stalactites pendant from the leafless branches, the twitter of

the robin redbreast, the holly, and the mistletoe, decorated homes,

redolent with the effects of the festive cooking, and the warm blazing

firelight, the meeting of families and of friends, the waits, the

grand old peals from the belfries; but, alas, here these childhood

associations are dispelled, half broken, and we acclimatised denizens

adapt our festivities to other modes--not that we forget the Christmas

season, but enjoy it differently, as I will briefly tell you, as you

ask, 'how we spend Christmas in New Zealand.' First, our ladies

decorate the churches for the Christmas services, not with the

evergreens of old exclusively; they do indeed affect the holly, ivy,

and (New Zealand) mistletoe, but they make up with umbrageous and rich

ferns, lachipoden, lauristinas, Portugal laurels, and our own

beautiful evergreen, Ngaio, and with all the midsummer flowers at

command; then the clerk, the storeman, the merchant, and the mechanic

indulge in 'trips,' or day excursions, in small steamboats, to the

neighbouring bays surrounding small townships, and villages on the

coast. Others again, take the train for a day's outing and play

quoits, rounders, lawn tennis, and the like; the sportsman, perhaps,

preferring his gun and his dog; families, again, are picnic-mad, for

your colonist can rival the Cockney any day for making his holiday in

the country. It may be to 'the rocks' he goes to watch his youngsters

paddling in the rolling tide, or to the toil of clambering up the 'dim

mountain,' which seems to suit their hardy lungs better than the shade

of the 'fern glen,' and a journey of eighteen miles to the Maori Pa is

as nothing. The Union Company's fine coasting steamships run

passengers at half fares at this season, and the result is an

interchange of visits between the dwellers in Nelson, Wellington,

Marlboro', and Wanjani, amongst whom there is much rivalry and more

friendship. Then there is the Christmas regatta, the performance of

the 'Messiah' by the musical societies, and the inevitable evening

dances, and thus the New Zealand Christmas is spent.

"I am reminded, by my young clerk, that the mail is about closing, and

that this letter must also close, if it is to go to-day, and thus I

must omit the mention of the new year's festivities, which properly

belong to our numerous Scottish fellow settlers who in their own

country ignore Christmas as a popish superstition; they are, however,

now becoming anglicised ('Englified' they call it) in their habits,

and similarly the Midland county men of England enter into their

Caledonian custom, from the harmless orgies of 'Hagmenae' to the

frantic capers of 'Gillie Cullum,' to the skirl of the panting piper."

CHRISTMAS AT THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.

In "A Voyage in the _Sunbeam_," Lady Brassey gives an interesting

account of the keeping of Christmas, 1876, on the Sandwich Islands. We

quote the following extracts:--

"Twenty minutes' hard riding brought us to the door of the 'Volcano

House,' from which issued the comforting light of a large wood fire,

reaching half way up the chimney.

"Everything at this inn is most comfortable, though the style is rough

and ready. The interior is just now decorated for Christmas, with

wreaths, and evergreens, and ferns, and branches of white plumes, not

unlike _reva-reva_, made from the path of the silver grass.

"The grandeur of the view in the direction of the volcano increased as

the evening wore on. The fiery cloud above the present crater grew in

size and depth of colour; the extinct crater glowed red in thirty or

forty different places; and clouds of white vapour issued from every

crack and crevice in the ground, adding to the sulphurous smell with

which the atmosphere was laden. Our room faced the volcano: there were

no blinds, and I drew back the curtains and lay watching the splendid

scene until I fell asleep.

"_Sunday, December 24th (Christmas Eve)_--I was up at four o'clock to

gaze once more on the wondrous spectacle that lay before me. The

molten lava still glowed in many places, the red cloud over the fiery

lake was bright as ever, and steam was slowly ascending in every

direction over hill and valley, till, as the sun rose, it became

difficult to distinguish clearly the sulphurous vapours from the

morning mists. We walked down to the Sulphur Banks, about a quarter of

a mile from the 'Volcano House,' and burnt our gloves and boots in our

endeavours to procure crystals, the beauty of which generally

disappeared after a very short exposure to the air. We succeeded,

however, in finding a few good specimens, and, by wrapping them at

once in paper and cotton-wool and putting them into a bottle, hope to

bring them home uninjured.

"_Monday, December 25th (Christmas Day)_--Turning in last night was

the work of a very few minutes, and this morning I awoke perfectly

refreshed and ready to appreciate anew the wonders of the prospect

that met my eyes. The pillar of fire was still distinctly visible,

when I looked out from my window, though it was not so bright as when

I had last seen it, but even as I looked it began to fade and

gradually disappeared. At the same moment a river of glowing lava

issued from the side of the bank we had climbed with so much

difficulty yesterday, and slowly but surely overflowed the ground we

had walked over. You may imagine the feelings with which we gazed upon

this startling phenomenon, which had it occurred a few hours earlier,

might have caused the destruction of the whole party.

* * * * *

"It would, I think, be difficult to imagine a more interesting and

exciting mode of spending Christmas Eve than yesterday has taught us,

or a stranger situation in which to exchange our Christmas greetings

than beneath the grass roof of an inn on the edge of a volcano in the

remote Sandwich Islands.

* * * * *

"The ride down to Hilo was as dull and monotonous as our upward

journey had been. At last we reached the pier, where we found the

usual little crowd waiting to see us off. The girls who had followed

us when we first landed came forward shyly when they thought they were

unobserved, and again encircled me with _leis_ of gay and fragrant

flowers. The custom of decorating themselves with wreaths on every

possible occasion is in my eyes a charming one, and I like the

inhabitants of Polynesia for their love of flowers.

"The whole town was _en fête_ to-day. Natives were riding about in

pairs, in the cleanest of bright cotton dresses and the freshest of

_leis_ and garlands. Our own men from the yacht contributed not a

little to the gaiety of the scene. They were all on shore, and the

greater part of them were galloping about on horseback, tumbling off,

scrambling on again, laughing, flirting, joking, and enjoying

themselves generally after a fashion peculiar to English sailors. As

far as we know the only evil result of all this merriment was that the

doctor received a good many applications for diachylon plaster in the

course of the evening, to repair various 'abrasions of the cuticle,'

as he expressed it.

"I think at least half the population of Hilo had been on board the

yacht in the course of the day, as a Christmas treat. At last we took

a boat and went off too, accompanied by Mr. Lyman. The appearance of

the 'Sunbeam' from the shore was very gay, and as we approached it

became more festive still. All her masts were tipped with sugar-canes

in bloom. Her stern was adorned with flowers, and in the arms of the

figurehead was a large bouquet. She was surrounded with boats, the

occupants of which cheered us heartily as we rode alongside. The whole

deck was festooned with tropical plants and flowers, and the

decorations of the cabins were even more beautiful and elaborate. I

believe all hands had been hard at work ever since we left to produce

this wonderful effect, and every garden in Hilo had furnished a

contribution to please and surprise us on our return.

"The choir from Hilo came out in boats in the evening, sang all sorts

of songs, sacred and secular, and cheered everybody till they were

hoarse. After this, having had a cold dinner, in order to save

trouble, and having duly drunk the health of our friends at home, we

all adjourned to the saloon, to assist in the distribution of some

Christmas presents--a ceremony which afforded great delight to the

children, and which was equally pleasing to the elder people and to

the crew, if one may judge from their behaviour on the occasion.

"Then we sat on deck, gazing at the cloud of fire over Kilauea, and

wondering if the appearance of the crater could ever be grander than

it was last night, when we were standing on its brim.

"So ended Christmas Day, 1876, at Hilo, in Hawaii. God grant that

there may be many more as pleasant for us in the future!"

CHRISTMAS ON BOARD THE "SUNBEAM," 1879.

"The wind is chill,

But let it whistle as it will

We'll keep our Christmas merry still."

In "Sunshine and Storm in the East, or Cruises to Cyprus and

Constantinople," Lady Brassey gives an interesting account of the

celebration of Christmas on board the _Sunbeam_, between Malta and

Marseilles, December 25, 1879:--"We had service early and then spent a

long busy morning in arranging all the presents for the children,

servants, and crew, and in decorating the cabin. We could not manage

any holly, but we had carefully preserved one bough of mistletoe from

Artaki Bay, and had brought on board at Malta baskets full of flowers,

so that all the pictures, lamps, and even walls, were wreathed with

festoons of bougainvillæa, ivy, and other creeping plants; while in

every available corner were placed, vases, bowls, and soup-plates,

containing flowers. If not exactly 'gay with holly-berries,' so dear

to English hearts from their association with yule-tide at home, the

general appearance of the cabins was highly satisfactory. In the

meantime they had been busy in the kitchen and pantry departments,

preparing all sorts of good things for dinner, and pretty things for

dessert, in order that the crew and servants might enjoy a more

sumptuous repast than usual. A Christmas tree, a snow man, or an ice

cave, for the distribution of presents, was not within the limit of

our resources; but we decorated our tables and sideboards with bright

shawls and scarves, and wreathed and divided the surface of each with

garlands of flowers, placing in every division a pretty Christmas

card, bearing the name of the recipient of the present, which was

hidden away among the flowers beneath.... For the men there was plenty

of tobacco, besides books and useful things; for the children toys;

and for ourselves, slippers and little remembrances of various kinds,

some sent from home to meet us, others recent purchases. The

distribution over, one or two speeches were made, and mutual

congratulations and good wishes were exchanged. Then the crew and

servants retired to enjoy the, to them, all-important event of the

day--dinner and dessert. After our own late dinner, we thought of

those near and dear to us at home, and drank to the health of 'absent

friends.'"

A MISSIONARY'S CHRISTMAS IN CHINA.

In a letter from Tsing Cheu Fu Chefoo, December 24, 1887, the Rev. A.

G. Jones, Baptist missionary, says:--

"Mr. Dawson asks how Englishmen spend Christmas in China. Well, it

depends. Some spend it at the ports dog-racing and eating

pudding--having a night of it. The missionaries generally take no

notice of it. In our mission we hold one of the semi-annual

dedication-of-children services on Christmas. We think it a very

appropriate day for the recognition of the sacredness of the gift of

trust of children. The idea is a Chinese one, originating with one of

our Christians, and we adopted it as the day for the custom.

Tomorrow will be Christmas Day, and I have come out twenty miles

this evening to hold a service of that kind with the semi-annual

communion as it happens. It will be a cold, cheerless room in a

clay-built cabin down in the corner of a bare valley in a trap and

basalt district with sparse vegetation and a bare aspect. A cold spot

with a handful of Christians, bearing their testimony alone out on the

margin of our field of work. I hope to see 40 or 50 patients up to

sundown, and then have worship with them at night. That will be my

Christmas. This evening--in the city--all the children and our wives

are having a Christmas tree in the theological lecture-room, and on

Tuesday next I guess we'll have our dinner. John Bull, Paddy, Sandy,

and Taffy all seem to agree in _that_ feature. My Sunday will only be

a sample of others. So it goes--working away. Now I must say goodbye.

Many thanks and many good wishes."

A VISIT TO CHRISTMAS ISLAND.

Letters were received in December, 1887, from H.M.S. _Egeria_,

Commander Pelham Aldrich, containing particulars of a visit she had

recently made to Christmas Island, which she was ordered to explore

for scientific purposes. Christmas Island is situated in the Indian

Ocean, in latitude 11° south, longitude 105° 30' east; it is 1,100

feet above the sea, is twelve miles long and eight miles broad. The

officers and men told off for exploring purposes found that the whole

place was composed of coral and rock; notwithstanding this, however,

it is covered almost completely with trees and shrubs, the trees,

which are of large dimensions, seeming to grow literally out of the

rock itself, earth surfaces being conspicuous by their absence. It is

uninhabited by human beings, nor could any traces of animals be

discovered, but seabirds swarm over every part of the island, and

about four hundred wood pigeons were shot by the explorers while they

remained there. No fruits or vegetable matter fit for consumption

could, however, be found, nor the existence of any supply of fresh

water, and the belief is that the vegetation of the island is

dependent for nourishment on the dews and the heavy rains that fall.

CHRISTMAS IN AMERICA.

Writing just before the Christmas festival of 1855, Mr. Howard Paul

says the general manner of celebrating Christmas Day is much the same

wherever professors of the Christian faith are found; and the United

States, as the great Transatlantic offshoot of Saxon principles, would

be the first to conserve the traditional ceremonies handed down from

time immemorial by our canonical progenitors of the East. But every

nation has its idiocratic notions, minute and otherwise, and it is not

strange that the Americans, as a creative people, have peculiar and

varied ways of their own in keeping this, the most remarkable day in

the calendar. Now and then they add a supplemental form to the

accepted code--characteristic of the mutable and progressive spirit of

the people--though there still exists the Church service, the

conventional carol, the evergreen decorations, the plum-puddings, the

pantomime, and a score of other "demonstrations" that never can

legitimately be forgotten.

Society generally seems to apportion the day thus: Church in the

morning, dinner in the afternoon, and amusements in the evening. The

Christmas dinners concentrate the scattered members of families, who

meet together to break bread in social harmony, and exchange those

home sentiments that cement the happiness of kindred. To-day the

prodigal once more returns to the paternal roof; the spendthrift

forsakes his boon companions; the convivialist deserts the wine-cup.

The beautiful genius of domestic love has triumphed, and who can

foresee the blessed results?

Parties, balls, and fêtes, with their endless routine of gaieties, are

looked forward to, as pleasures are, the wide world over; and all

classes, from highest to lowest, have their modes of enjoyment marked

out. Preparation follows preparation in festal succession. Sorrow

hides her Gorgon head, care may betake itself to any dreary recesses,

for Christmas must be a gala!

There is generally snow on the ground at this time; if Nature is

amiable, there is sure to be; and a Christmas sleigh-ride is one of

those American delights that defy rivalry. There is no withstanding

the merry chime of the bells and a fleet passage over the snow-skirted

roads. Town and country look as if they had arisen in the morning in

robes of unsullied white. Every housetop is spangled with the bright

element; soft flakes are coquetting in the atmosphere, and a pure

mantle has been spread on all sides, that fairly invites one to

disport upon its gleaming surface.

We abide quietly within our pleasant home on either the eve or night

of Christmas. How the sleighs glide by in rapid glee, the music of the

bells and the songs of the excursionists falling on our ears in very

wildness. We strive in vain to content ourselves. We glance at the

cheerful fire, and hearken to the genial voices around us. We

philosophise, and struggle against the tokens of merriment without;

but the restraint is torture. We, too, must join the revellers, and

have a sleigh-ride. Girls, get on your fur; wrap yourselves up warmly

in the old bear-skin; hunt up the old guitar; the sleigh is at the

door, the moon is beaming. The bells tinkle and away we go!

An old English legend was transplanted many years ago on the shores of

America, that took root and flourished with wonderful luxuriance,

considering it was not indigenous to the country. Probably it was

taken over to New York by one of the primitive Knickerbockers, or it

might have clung to some of the drowsy burgomasters who had forsaken

the pictorial tiles of dear old Amsterdam about the time of Peter de

Laar, or Il Bombaccia, as the Italians call him, got into disgrace in

Rome. However this may be, certain it is that Santa Claus, or St.

Nicholas, the kind Patron-saint of the Juveniles, makes his annual

appearance on Christmas Eve, for the purpose of dispensing gifts to

all good children. This festive elf is supposed to be a queer little

creature that descends the chimney, viewlessly, in the deep hours of

night, laden with gifts and presents, which he bestows with no sparing

hand, reserving to himself a supernatural discrimination that he seems

to exercise with every satisfaction. Before going to bed the children

hang their newest stockings near the chimney, or pin them to the

curtains of the bed. Midnight finds a world of hosiery waiting for

favours; and the only wonder is that a single Santa Claus can get

around among them all. The story goes that he never misses one,

provided it belongs to a deserving youngster, and morning is sure to

bring no reproach that the Christmas Wizard has not nobly performed

his wondrous duties. We need scarcely enlighten the reader as to who

the real Santa Claus is. Every indulgent parent contributes to the

pleasing deception, though the juveniles are strong in their faith of

their generous holiday patron. The following favourite lines

graphically describe a visit of St. Nicholas, and, being in great

vogue with the young people of America, are fondly reproduced from

year to year:--

"'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In the hope that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar plums danced through their heads;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

The way to the window, I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash;

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer;

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name--

Now Dasher! now Dancer! Now Prancer! now Vixen!

On Comet! on Cupid! on Donder and Blixen!

To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!'

As the leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof,

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof;

As I drew in my head and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in furs from his head to his foot

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a pedlar just opening his pack.

His eyes, how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round belly

That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump--a right jolly old elf;

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings--then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

'Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!'"

A curious feature of an American Christmas is the egg-nogg and free

lunch, distributed at all the hotels and cafés. A week at least

before the 25th fanciful signs are suspended over the fountains of the

bars (the hotel-keepers are quite classic in their ideas) announcing

superb lunch and egg-noggs on Christmas Day. This invitation is sure

to meet with a large response from the amateur epicures about town,

who, ever on the _qui vive_ for a banquet gratis, flock to the festive

standard, since it has never been found a difficult matter to give

things away, from the time old Heliogabalus gastronomed in Phoenicia

up to the present hour. A splendid hall in one of the principal

hotels, at this moment, occurs to us. A table, the length of the

apartment, is spread and furnished with twenty made dishes peculiar to

the Christmas _cuisine_. There are _chorodens_ and _fricassees_,

_ragoûts_ and _calipee_, of rapturous delicacy. Each dish is labelled,

and attended by a black servant, who serves its contents on very small

white gilt-edged plates. At the head of the table a vast bowl,

ornamented with indescribable Chinese figures, contains the

egg-nogg--a palatable compound of milk, eggs, brandy, and spices,

nankeenish in colour, with froth enough on its surface to generate any

number of Venuses, if the old Peloponnesian anecdote is worth

remembering at all. Over the egg-nogg mine host usually officiates,

all smiles and benignity, pouring the rich draught with miraculous

dexterity into cut-glass goblets, and passing it to the surrounding

guests with profuse hand. On this occasion the long range of fancy

drinks are forgotten. Sherry-cobblers, mint-juleps, gin-slings, and

punches, are set aside in order that the sway of the Christmas draught

may be supreme. Free lunches are extremely common in the United

States, what are called "eleven o'clock snacks" especially; but the

accompaniment of egg-nogg belongs unequivocally to the death of the

year.

The presentation of "boxes" and souvenirs is the same in America as in

England, the token of remembrance having an inseparable alliance with

the same period. Everybody expects to give and receive. A month before

the event the fancy stores are crowded all day long with old and young

in search of suitable _souvenirs_, and every object is purchased, from

costliest gems to the tawdriest _babiole_ that may get into the

market. If the weather should be fine, the principal streets are

thronged with ladies shopping in sleighs; and hither and thither sleds

shoot by, laden with parcels of painted toys, instruments of mock

music and septuagenarian dread, from a penny trumpet to a sheepskin

drum.

Christmas seems to be a popular period among the young folk for being

mated, and a surprising number approach the altar this morning.

Whether it is that orange-flowers and bridal gifts are admirably

adapted to the time, or that a longer lease of happiness is ensured

from the joyous character of the occasion, we are not sufficiently

learned in hymeneal lore to announce. The Christmas week, however, is

a merry one for the honeymoon, as little is thought of but mirth and

gaiety until the dawning New Year soberly suggests that we should put

aside our masquerade manners.

In drawing-room amusements society has a wealth of pleasing indoor

pastimes. We remember the sententious Question _réunions_, the

hilarious Surprise parties, Fairy-bowl, and Hunt-the-slipper. We can

never forget the vagabond Calathumpians, who employ in their bands

everything inharmonious, from a fire-shovel to a stewpan, causing more

din than the demons down under the sea ever dreamed of.

What, then, between the sleigh-rides, the bell-melodies, old Santa

Claus and his fictions, the egg-nogg and lunches, the weddings and the

willingness to be entertained, the Americans find no difficulty in

enjoying Christmas Day. Old forms and new notions come in for a share

of observances; and the young country, in a glow of good humour, with

one voice exclaims, "Le bon temps vienara!"

PRESIDENT HARRISON AS "SANTA CLAUS."

Writing from New York on December 22, 1891, a correspondent says:

"President Harrison was seen by your correspondent at the White House

yesterday, and was asked what he thought about Christmas and its

religious and social influences. The President expressed himself

willing to offer his opinions, and said: 'Christmas is the most sacred

religious festival of the year, and should be an occasion of general

rejoicing throughout the land, from the humblest citizen to the

highest official, who, for the time being, should forget or put behind

him his cares and annoyances, and participate in the spirit of

seasonable festivity. We intend to make it a happy day at the White

House--all the members of my family, representing four generations,

will gather around the big table in the State dining-room to have an

old-fashioned Christmas dinner. Besides Mrs. Harrison, there will be

her father, Dr. Scott, Mr. and Mrs. M'Kee and their children, Mrs.

Dimmick and Lieutenant and Mrs. Parker. I am an ardent believer in the

duty we owe to ourselves as Christians to make merry for children at

Christmas time, and we shall have an old-fashioned Christmas tree for

the grandchildren upstairs; and I shall be their Santa Claus myself.

If my influence goes for aught in this busy world let me hope that my

example may be followed in every family in the land.'

"Christmas is made as much of in this country as it is in England, if

not more. The plum-pudding is not universal, but the Christmas tree is

in almost every home. Even in the tenement districts of the East side,

inhabited by the labouring and poorer classes, these vernal emblems of

the anniversary are quite as much in demand as in other quarters, and

if they and the gifts hung upon them are less elaborate than their

West side congeners, the household enthusiasm which welcomes them is

quite as marked. As in London, the streets are flooded with Christmas

numbers of the periodicals, which, it may be remarked, are this year

more elaborate in design and execution than ever. The use of Christmas

cards has also obtained surprising proportions. A marked feature of

this year's Christmas is the variety and elegance of offerings after

the Paris fashion, which are of a purely ornamental and but slight

utilitarian character. There are bonbonnières in a variety of forms,

some of them very magnificent and expensive; while the Christmas cards

range in prices from a cent to ten dollars each. These bonbonnières,

decked with expensive ribbon or hand-painted with designs of the

season, attain prices as high as forty dollars each, and are in great

favour among the wealthy classes. Flowers are also much used, and,

just now, are exceedingly costly.

"While the usual religious ceremonies of the day are generally

observed here, the mass of the community are inclined to treat the

occasion as a festive rather than a solemn occasion, and upon

festivity the whole population at the present time seems bent."

"MERRY CHRISTMAS" WITH THE NEGROES.

A journalist who has been amongst the negroes in the Southern States

of America thus describes their Christmas festivities:--