a ruff, a short cloak, which had very much the aspect of one of the old
housekeeper's petticoats, and a hat that might have served for a
village steeple, and must indubitably have figured in the days of the
Covenanters. From under this his nose curved boldly forth, flushed with
a frost-bitten bloom, that seemed the very trophy of a December blast.
He was accompanied by the blue-eyed romp, dished up as "Dame Mince-Pie,"
in the venerable magnificence of faded brocade, long stomacher, peaked
hat, and high-heeled shoes. The young officer appeared as Robin Hood, in
a sporting dress of Kendal green and a foraging cap with a gold tassel.
The costume, to be sure, did not bear testimony to deep research, and
there was an evident eye to the picturesque, natural to a young gallant
in the presence of his mistress. The fair Julia hung on his arm in a
pretty rustic dress, as "Maid Marian." The rest of the train had been
metamorphosed in various ways; the girls trussed up in the finery of the
ancient belles of the Bracebridge line, and the striplings bewhiskered
with burnt cork, and gravely clad in broad skirts, hanging sleeves,
and full-bottomed wigs, to represent the characters of Roast Beef, Plum
Pudding, and other worthies celebrated in ancient maskings. The whole
was under the control of the Oxonian, in the appropriate character of
Misrule; and I observed that he exercised rather a mischievous sway with
his wand over the smaller personages of the pageant.
The irruption of this motley crew, with beat of drum, according to
ancient custom, was the consummation of uproar and merriment. Master
Simon covered himself with glory by the stateliness with which,
as Ancient Christmas, he walked a minuet with the peerless, though
giggling, Dame Mince-Pie. It was followed by a dance of all the
characters, which, from its medley of costumes, seemed as though the
old family portraits had skipped down from their frames to join in the
sport. Different centuries were figuring at cross hands and right and
left; the dark ages were cutting pirouettes and rigadoons; and the
days of Queen Bess jigging merrily down the middle, through a line of
succeeding generations.
The worthy Squire contemplated these fantastic sports, and this
resurrection of his old wardrobe, with the simple relish of childish
delight. He stood chuckling and rubbing his hands, and scarcely hearing
a word the parson said, notwithstanding that the latter was discoursing
most authentically on the ancient and stately dance at the Paon, or
Peacock, from which he conceived the minuet to be derived.* For my part,
I was in a continual excitement, from the varied scenes of whim and
innocent gaiety passing before me. It was inspiring to see wild-eyed
frolic and warm-hearted hospitality breaking out from among the chills
and glooms of winter, and old age throwing off his apathy, and catching
once more the freshness of youthful enjoyment. I felt also an interest
in the scene, from the consideration that these fleeting customs were
posting fast into oblivion, and that this was, perhaps, the only family
in England in which the whole of them were still punctiliously observed.
There was a quaintness, too, mingled with all this revelry that gave
it a peculiar zest; it was suited to the time and place; and as the old
Manor House almost reeled with mirth and wassail, it seemed echoing back
the joviality of long-departed years.
*[11] See Note K.
But enough of Christmas and its gambols; it is time for me to pause
in this garrulity. Methinks I hear the questions asked by my graver
readers, "To what purpose is all this?--how is the world to be made
wiser by this talk?" Alas! is there not wisdom enough extant for the
instruction of the world? And if not, are there not thousands of abler
pens labouring for its improvement?--It is so much pleasanter to please
than to instruct--to play the companion rather than the preceptor.
What, after all, is the mite of wisdom that I could throw into the mass
of knowledge? or how am I sure that my sagest deductions may be safe
guides for the opinions of others? But in writing to amuse, if I fail,
the only evil is my own disappointment. If, however, I can by any lucky
chance, in these days of evil, rub out one wrinkle from the brow of
care, or beguile the heavy heart of one moment of sorrow; if I can now
and then penetrate through the gathering film of misanthropy, prompt a
benevolent view of human nature, and make my reader more in good humour
with his fellow beings and himself, surely, surely, I shall not then
have written entirely in vain.
THE END.
Notes
[Footnote 1: NOTE A.
The misletoe is still hung up in farmhouses and kitchens at Christmas;
and the young men have the privilege of kissing the girls under it,
plucking each time a berry from the bush. When the berries are all
plucked, the privilege ceases.]
[Footnote 2: NOTE B.
The Yule-clog is a great log of wood, sometimes the root of a tree,
brought into the house with great ceremony, on Christmas eve, laid in
the fireplace, and lighted with the brand of last year's clog. While
it lasted there was great drinking, singing, and telling of tales.
Sometimes it was accompanied by Christmas candles, but in the cottages
the only light was from the ruddy blaze of the great wood fire. The
Yule-clog was to burn all night; if it went out, it was considered a
sign of ill luck.
Herrick mentions it in one of his songs:
"Come, bring with a noise
My merrie, merrie boyes,
The Christmas log to the firing:
While my good dame, she
Bids ye all be free,
And drink to your hearts' desiring."
The Yule-clog is still burnt in many farmhouses and kitchens in England,
particularly in the north, and there are several superstitions connected
with it among the peasantry. If a squinting person come to the house
while it is burning, or a person barefooted, it is considered an ill
omen. The brand remaining from the Yule-clog is carefully put away to
light the next year's Christmas fire.]
[Footnote 3: NOTE C.
From the Flying Eagle, a small gazette, published December 24, 1652:
"The House spent much time this day about the business of the Navy, for
settling the affairs at sea; and before they rose, were presented with
a terrible remonstrance against Christmas day, grounded upon divine
Scriptures, 2 Cor. v. 16; 1 Cor. xv. 14, 17; and in honour of the Lord's
Day, grounded upon these Scriptures, John xx. I; Rev. i. 10; Psalm
cxviii. 24; Lev. xxiii. 7, 11; Mark xvi. 8; Psalm lxxxiv. 10, in which
Christmas is called Anti-Christ's masse, and those Mass-mongers and
Papists who observe it, etc. In consequence of which Parliament spent
some time in consultation about the abolition of Christmas day, passed
orders to that effect, and resolved to sit on the following day, which
was commonly called Christmas day."]
[Footnote 4: NOTE D.
An English gentleman at the opening of the great day, i. e. on Christmas
day in the morning, had all his tenants and neighbours enter his hall
by daybreak. The strong beer was broached, and the black jacks went
plentifully about with toast, sugar, nutmeg, and good Cheshire cheese.
The hackin (the great sausage) must be boiled by daybreak, or else two
young men must take the maiden (i.e. the cook) by the arms and run her
round the market-place till she is shamed of her laziness.--Round about
our Sea-coal Fire.]
[Footnote 5: NOTE E.
The old ceremony of serving up the boar's head on Christmas day is still
observed in the hall of Queen's College, Oxford. I was favoured by the
parson with a copy of the carol as now sung, and as it may be acceptable
to such of my readers as are curious in these grave and learned matters,
I give it entire.
"The boar's head in hand bear I,
Bedeck'd with bays and rosemary;
And I pray you, my masters, be merry,
Quot estia in convivio.
Caput apri defero
Reddens laudes Domino.
"The boar's head, as I understand,
Is the rarest dish in all this land,
Which thus bedeck'd with a gay garland
Let us servire cantico.
Caput apri defero, etc.
"Our Steward hath provided this
In honour of the King of Bliss,
Which on this day to be served is
In Reginensi Atrio.
Caput apri defero,"
Etc., etc., etc.]
[Footnote 6: NOTE F.
The peacock was anciently in great demand for stately entertainments.
Sometimes it was made into a pie, at one end of which the head appeared
above the crust in all its plumage, with the beak richly gilt; at the
other end the tail was displayed. Such pies were served up at the
solemn banquets of chivalry, when knights-errant pledged themselves to
undertake any perilous enterprise; whence came the ancient oath, used by
Justice Shallow, "by cock and pie."
The peacock was also an important dish for the Christmas feast; and
Massinger, in his "City Madam," gives some idea of the extravagance
with which this, as well as other dishes, was prepared for the gorgeous
revels of the olden times:
"Men may talk of country Christmasses, Their thirty pound butter'd eggs,
their pies of carps' tongues: Their pheasants drench'd with ambergris;
the carcases of three fat wethers bruised for gravy, to make sauce for a
single peacock!"]
[Footnote 7: NOTE G.
The Wassail Bowl was sometimes composed of ale instead of wine; with
nutmeg, sugar, toast, ginger, and roasted crabs; in this way the
nut-brown beverage is still prepared in some old families, and round the
hearths of substantial farmers at Christmas. It is also called Lambs'
Wool, and is celebrated by Herrick in his "Twelfth Night:"
"Next crowne the bowle full
With gentle Lambs' Wool,
Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,
With store of ale too;
And thus ye must doe
To make the Wassaile a swinger."]
[Footnote 8: NOTE H.
The custom of drinking out of the same cup gave place to each having his
cup. When the steward came to the doore with the Wassel, he was to cry
three times, Wassel, Wassel, Wassel, and then the chappel (chaplain) was
to answer with a song.--Archaeologia.]
[Footnote 9: NOTE I.
At Christmasse there was in the Kings's house, wheresoever hee was
lodged, a lorde of misrule, or mayster of merry disportes; and the like
had ye in the house of every nobleman of honour, or good worshippe, were
he spirituall or temporall.--Stow.]
[Footnote 10: NOTE J.
Maskings or mummeries were favourite sports at Christmas in old times;
and the wardrobes at halls and manor-houses were often laid under
contribution to furnish dresses and fantastic disguisings. I strongly
suspect Master Simon to have taken the idea of his from Ben Jonson's
"Masque of Christmas."]
[Footnote 11: NOTE K.
Sir John Hawkins, speaking of the dance called the Pavon, from pavo, a
peacock, says: "It is a grave and majestic dance; the method of dancing
it anciently was by gentlemen dressed with caps and swords, by those of
the long robe in their gowns, by the peers in their mantles, and by
the ladies in gowns with long trains, the motion whereof, in dancing,
resembled that of a peacock."--History of Music.]