EASTER FESTIVITIES.
May-day was the great festival of the young. Easter was the great
festival of the church. It followed the dismal and abstemious time of
Lent, and came heralded by Palm-Sunday, the commemoration of our
Saviour’s riding into Jerusalem; Maundy-Thursday, the day on which he
washed the feet of his disciples; and Good-Friday, the day of his death.
All these days were kept with great circumstance. On Palm-Sunday there
was, and still is, in Catholic countries, a great procession to church,
with tapers and palm-branches, or sprigs of box as a substitute. Stowe
says that in the week before Easter, “had ye great shows made for the
fetching in of a _twisted tree_, or _withe_, as they termed it, out of
the woods into the king’s house, and the like into every man’s house of
honour and worship.”
This was the sallow or large-leaved willow, whose catkins are now in
full bloom, and are still called palms by the country people.
Maundy-Thursday, or _Dies Mandati_, the day of the command to wash each
other’s feet, was a great day of humiliation and profession of Christian
benevolence. The pope washed the feet of certain poor men; kings and
princes did the same; in the monasteries the custom was general, and
long retained. After the ceremony, liberal donations were made to the
poor, of clothing, and of silver money; and refreshments were given them
to mitigate the severity of the fast; on the 15th of April, 1731,
Maundy-Thursday, a distribution was made at Whitehall, to 48 poor men
and 48 poor women, the king’s age then being 48--of boiled beef and
shoulders of mutton; loaves and fishes; shoes, stockings, linen, and
woollen cloth; and leathern bags with one, two, three, and four penny
pieces of silver, and shillings to each; about four pounds in value. The
Archbishop of York also washed the feet of a certain number of poor
persons. James II. was the last king who performed this in person: but a
relic of this custom is still preserved in the donations dispensed at
St. James’s on this day. In 1814, this donation was made with great
ceremony at Whitehall Chapel. In the morning, Dr. Carey, the
sub-almoner, and Mr. Hanley, the secretary of the Lord High Almoner, Mr.
Nost, and others belonging to the Lord Chamberlain’s office, attended by
40 yeomen of the guard, distributed to 75 poor women and 75 poor
men--being as many as the king was years old--a quantity of salt fish,
consisting of salmon, cod, and herrings; pieces of very fine beef, five
loaves of bread, and some ale to drink the king’s health. At three
o’clock they met again; the men on one side of the chapel, the women on
the other. A procession entered, consisting of a party of yeomen of the
guard, one of them carrying a large gold dish on his head, containing
150 bags with 75 silver pennies in each, for the poor people, which was
placed in the royal closet. They were followed by the sub-almoner in his
robes, with a sash of fine linen over his shoulder and crossing his
waist. He was followed by two boys, two girls, the secretary, and
another gentleman, with similar sashes, etc. etc.: all carrying large
nosegays. The church evening service was then performed; at the
conclusion of which the silver pennies were distributed, and woollen
cloth, linen, shoes and stockings, to the poor men and women, and,
according to ancient custom, a cup of wine, to drink the king’s health.
This ceremony is still continued in similar style.
At Rome, the altar of the Capella Paolina is illuminated with more than
4000 wax tapers; and the pope and cardinals go thither in procession,
bringing the sacrament along with them, and leaving it there. Then the
pope blesses the people, and washes the feet of some pilgrims, and
serves them at dinner. At Moscow, Dr. Clarke says, the Archbishop washes
the feet of the Apostles, that is, twelve monks designed to represent
them. The archbishop takes off his robes, girds his loins with a towel,
and proceeds to wash their feet, till he comes to St. Peter, who rises
up, and the same interlocution takes place between him and the prelate
as is said to have done between our Saviour and that Apostle.
The next day is GOOD-FRIDAY, so called by the English, but HOLY-FRIDAY
on the continent--the day of our Saviour’s death. Thousands of English
travellers have witnessed, and many described, the splendid pageant of
this night at St. Peter’s at Rome, on which the hundred lamps which burn
over the apostle’s tomb are extinguished, and a stupendous cross of
light appears suspended from the dome, between the altar and the nave,
shedding over the whole edifice a soft lustre delightful to the eye, and
highly favourable to picturesque representations. This exhibition is
supposed to have originated in the sublime imagination of Michael
Angelo, and he who beholds it will acknowledge that it is not unworthy
of the inventor. The magnitude of the cross, hanging as if
self-suspended, and like a meteor streaming in the air; the blaze that
it pours forth; the mixture of light and shade cast on the pillars,
arches, statues, and altars; the crowd of spectators placed in all the
different attitudes of curiosity, wonder, and devotion; the processions,
with their banners and crosses gliding successively in silence along the
nave, and kneeling around the altar: the penitents of all nations and
dresses collected in groups near the confessionals of their respective
languages; a cardinal occasionally advancing through the crowd, and as
he kneels, humbly bending his head to the pavement; in fine, the pontiff
himself without pomp and pageantry, prostrate before the altar, offering
up his adorations in silence, form a scene singularly striking.
In various Catholic countries the lights are suddenly put out at the
sound of a bell, and a flagellation, in imitation of Christ’s
sufferings, commences in the dark, with such cries as make it a truly
terrific scene. The effect of the singing of the Miserere at Rome, in
the time of the darkness, has been described by several writers as
inexpressibly sublime.
At Jerusalem the monks go in procession to Mount Calvary with a large
crucifix and image, where they take down the image from it with all the
minute procedure of taking down, unnailing, taking off the crown of
thorns, etc. etc. In Portugal, they act in the chapel the whole scene of
the Crucifixion, the Virgin Mary sitting at the foot of the cross with
Mary Magdalene and St. John; the coming of Nicodemus and Joseph of
Arimathea; the taking down by order of Pilate, and bringing the body in
procession to the tomb.
Such are the ceremonies of Catholic countries: here the people eat
hot-cross buns, and go to church, and that is all. The first sound you
hear on awaking in the morning, is that of numerous voices crying
hot-cross buns, for every little boy has got a basket, and sets out with
a venture of buns on this day. Yet how few know or call to mind the
amazing antiquity of this custom. Mr. Bryant traces it to the time of
early Paganism, when little cakes called _bown_ were offered to Astarte,
the Catholics having politically engrafted all the Gentile customs on
their form of Christianity.
Then came Easter-eve, on which the fast was most rigorous; and then
broke Easter-day, the joyous Sunday, the day of the resurrection. All
sorrow, fasting, and care now gave way to gaiety; and religious pageants
were established, and are so still in Catholic countries, to edify the
people. Goëthe gives a lively description of the effect of the coming
Easter morn upon Faust. He is just wearied out of life with ambitious
cravings, and about to swallow poison, when he hears the sound of bells,
and voices in chorus, singing--Christ ist erstanden!
EASTER HYMN.--CHORUS OF ANGELS.
Christ is from the grave arisen!
Joy is his. For him the weary
Earth has ceased its thraldom dreary,
And the cares that prey on mortals;
He hath burst the grave’s stern portals;
The grave is no prison:
The Lord hath arisen!
FAUSTUS--O, those deep sounds, those voices rich and heavenly!
How powerfully they sway the soul, and force
The cup uplifted from the eager lips!
Proud bells, and do your peals already ring,
To greet the joyous dawn of Easter morn?
_Hymn continued_.--CHORUS OF WOMEN.
We laid him for burial
’Mong aloes and myrrh,
His children and friends
Laid their dead master there!
All wrapped in his grave-dress
We left him in fear,
Ah! where shall we seek him?
The Lord is not here!
CHORUS OF ANGELS.
The Lord hath arisen--
Sorrow no longer;
Temptation hath tried him,
But he was the stronger!
Happy, happy victory!
Love, submission, self-denial
Marked the strengthening agony,
Marked the purifying trial:
The grave is no prison:
The Lord is arisen.
FAUSTUS--Those bells announced the merry sports of youth;
This music welcomed in the happy spring;
And now am I once more a happy child,
And old remembrance twining round my heart,
Forbids this act, and checks my daring steps--
Then sing ye forth--sweet songs that breathe of heaven!
Tears come, and earth hath won her child again.
_Dr. Anster’s Translation._
In this beautiful incident, purely English readers may be apt to
attribute to German extravagance the chorus of angels; but Goëthe had in
his eye the Catholic pageants--pageants that once were common here. The
only theatres of the people were the churches, and the monks were the
actors. Plays were got up with a full _dramatis personæ_ of monks, in
dresses according to the characters they assumed. The sepulchre was
erected in the church near the altar, to represent the tomb wherein the
body of Christ was laid. At this tomb, which was built at an enormous
cost, and lighted at an equal one, and for which there was a gathering
from the people, there was a grand performance on Easter day. In some
churches Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany, and Mary of Nain, were
represented by three deacons clothed in dalmatics and amisses, with
their heads covered in the manner of women, and holding a vase in their
hands. These performers came through the middle of the choir, and
hastening towards the sepulchre with downcast looks, said together this
verse, “Who shall remove the stone for us?” Upon this, a boy clothed as
an angel, in albs, and holding a wheat-ear in his hand before the
sepulchre, said, “Whom do you seek in the sepulchre?” The Marys
answered, “Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.” The boy-angel
answered, “He is not here, but is risen,” and pointed to the place with
his finger. The boy-angel departed very quickly, and two priests in
tunics, sitting without the sepulchre, said, “Women, whom do you seek?”
The middle one of the three said, “Sir, if you have taken him away, say
so.” The priest, shewing the cross, said, “They have taken away the
Lord.” The two sitting priests said, “Whom do you seek, women?” The
Marys, kissing the place, afterwards went from the sepulchre. In the
meantime a priest, in the character of Christ, in an alb, with a stole,
holding a cross, met them on the left horn of the altar, and said,
“Mary!” Upon hearing this, the mock Mary threw herself at his feet, and
with a loud voice, cried, “_Cabboin!_” The priest representing Christ,
replied, nodding, “_Noli me tangere_;” touch me not. This being
finished, he again appeared at the right horn of the altar, and said to
them as they passed before it, “Haik,” do not fear. This being finished,
he concealed himself, and the women-priests, as though joyful at hearing
this, bowed to the altar, and turning towards the choir, sung “Alleluia,
the Lord is risen!” This was the signal for the bishop or priest to
begin and sing aloud, _Te Deum_.
Brand quotes, from the churchwardens’ accounts at Reading, several items
paid, for nails for the sepulchre; for rosin for the Resurrection-play;
for making a Judas; for writing the plays themselves; and other such
purposes. Fosbrooke gives “the properties” of the Sepulchre-show of St.
Mary Redcliff church, at Bristol, from an original MS. in his
possession, formerly belonging to Chatterton, viz. “Memorandum:--That
Master Cannings hath delivered, the 4th day of July, in the year of our
Lord 1470, to Master Nicolas Pelles, vicar of Redcliff, Moses Conterin,
Philip Barthelmew, and John Brown, procurators of Redcliff aforesaid, a
new sepulchre, well gilt with fine gold, and a civer thereto; a image of
God Almighty rising out of the same sepulchre, with all the ordinance
that longeth thereto; that is to say, a lath made of timber and
iron-work thereto. Item; hereto longeth Heven made of timber and strined
cloths. Item; Hell made of timber, and iron-work thereto, with Devils
the number of thirteen. Item; four knights keeping the sepulchre with
their weapons in their hands; that is to say, two spears, two axes,
with two shields. Item; four pair of angels’ wings, for four angels,
made of timber and well painted. Item; the Fadre, the crown and visage;
the ball with a cross upon it, well gilt with fine gold. Item; the Holy
Ghost, coming out of Heven into the sepulchre. Item; longeth to the four
angels four _Perukes_.”--_Fosbroke’s British Monachism._
Throughout the Christian world, wherever the Catholic and Greek churches
extend, great and magnificent are the pageants, processions, and
rejoicings still of this day. The lights themselves at the sepulchre are
objects of great admiration. When this kingdom was catholic, the
_paschal_, or great Easter taper at Westminster Abbey, was three hundred
pounds weight. Sometimes a large wax light called a serpent was used;
its name being derived from its form, which was spiral, and was wound
round a rod. To light it, fire was struck from a flint consecrated by
the abbot. The _paschal_ in Durham cathedral was square wax, and reached
to within a man’s length of the roof, from whence this waxen enormity
was lighted by “a fine convenience.” From this superior light all others
were taken. Every taper in the church was purposely extinguished, in
order that this might supply a fresh stock of consecrated light, till at
the same season of the next year a similar parent torch was prepared.
Of the lighting of the annual fire at the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem,
Turner, in his Tour to the Levant, gives a similar account. “We entered
the church of the Holy Sepulchre with difficulty, our janizary carrying
before us a whip of several leathern thongs, which he used most
liberally. The church was filled with pilgrims and spectators, not less
in number than 7000. What a scene was before me! The Greek and Armenian
galleries overlooking the dome, were filled with female pilgrims of
those nations, enthusiastically looking towards the sepulchre, and
crossing themselves. Below me, the whole church, and particularly the
circular apartment containing the dome, was absolutely crammed with
pilgrims, men and women, hallooing, shouting, singing, and violently
struggling to be near the sepulchre, while the Turkish soldiers were
driving them back with their whips. One man I saw in the contention had
his right ear literally torn off. The place immediately near the window
whence the fire was given, was occupied by the richest pilgrims, who,
for this precedence, pay to the Turks 200 or 300 sequins. An old woman
sitting on the step of the door of the Greek church, had kept that seat
for a day and a night without moving, and paid two dollars to get it. A
ring was kept, as well as the tumult would allow, by the crowd around
the sepulchre, round which pilgrims were carried on others’ shoulders,
singing religious songs in Arabic and Greek; while, at other times, a
party of ten or twelve ran rioting round it, knocking down every one
that stood in their way. The Greek and Armenian bishops were shut in the
sepulchre at two o’clock with a single Turk, who is well paid to declare
that he saw the fire descend miraculously, or, at least, to keep
silence. Before they enter, the sepulchre is publicly inspected, and all
the lamps extinguished.
“At twenty minutes to three, the fire was given from the window, and was
received with a tremendous and universal shout through the whole church.
On its first appearance, the torch was seized by a boy who rubbed it
against his face, hand, and neck, with such vehemence as to extinguish
it, for which he was well beaten by those near him. Eight different
times was the fire given from the window, and as every pilgrim carried
candles in his hand, in bunches of four, six, eight, or twelve, in ten
minutes the whole church was in a flame, and in five more nearly every
candle was extinguished. But what enthusiasm! The men rubbed them
against their heads and faces, their caps, and handkerchiefs; and the
women uncovered the bosom, directing the flame along their heads, necks,
and faces, and all crossing themselves during the operation, with the
utmost devotion and velocity. The candles, when a little of them is
burnt, are carried home, and ever afterwards preserved as sacred.
Messengers with lanterns, stood ready at the door, to carry the fire to
the Greek convent of Bethlehem, of the Cross at Sullah, and of St. Saba,
near the Dead Sea.”
Equally curious, and far more splendid, are the ceremonies at Rome on
this day. The moment they suppose our Saviour is risen, the cannons of
the castle of St. Angelo are fired, and all the bells in the city begin
ringing at once. The people, throwing off their fasting weeds, give
themselves up to rejoicing. The church of St. Peter, and the whole
piazza before it, are crowded with all classes of persons in gala
dresses. The pope is carried in magnificent state, through the church,
shaded by waving peacocks’ feathers, attended by his _guardia nobile_,
in princely uniform, glittering with gold, their helmets adorned with
plumes of feathers; the ambassadors and their wives; the senators and
their trains; the Armenian bishops and priests, in very splendid robes;
the cardinals, bishops, and all the Roman troops in grand procession.
The pope blesses the people from the terrace, who receive the
benediction on their knees, and look up with eager eyes for the
indulgences that are scattered amongst them by some of the cardinals. In
the evening there is a grand illumination of St. Peter’s. “On entering
the Piazza,” says a traveller, “we beheld the architecture of the dome,
façade, and colonnade, all marked out by soft lamps: a bell tolled, and
in a moment, as if struck by a magical wand, the whole fabric burst into
a dazzling blaze of the most beautiful light; nor could we conceive how
the sudden transition was effected. Fireworks and festivities concluded
the evening.”
In Spain, Portugal, South America, wherever indeed the Catholic religion
extends, similar church plays, pageants and rejoicings prevail. In the
Greek church, nay even in Turkey, Easter is a great festival. The
Russians celebrate it with extraordinary zeal. At Moscow no meetings of
any kind take place without repeating the expressions of peace and joy,
CHRISTOS VOSCRESS! Christ is risen! To which the answer always is the
same; VOISTINEY VOSCRESS! He is risen indeed! On Easter-Monday begins
the presentation of the Paschal eggs. Lovers to their mistresses,
relations to each other, servants to their masters, all bring ornamented
eggs. The meanest pauper in the street presenting an egg, and repeating
the words CHRISTOS VOSCRESS, may demand a salute even of the empress.
All business is laid aside; the upper ranks are engaged in visiting,
balls, dinners, suppers, masquerades; while boors fill the air with
their songs, or roll about the streets drunk. Servants appear in new and
tawdry liveries, and carriages in the most sumptuous parade.
In all this may be seen what Easter was in England when it was a
Catholic country--what a change in our observance of times the
Reformation has produced! Fifteen days were the festivities usually kept
up; in many places servants were permitted to rest from their labours;
all courts of justice were shut up, and all public games of a worldly
nature were forbidden. Still in London it is a great week of relaxation
to the mechanics, who pour out to Greenwich and other places by
thousands to enjoy themselves. On Easter Monday 1834, as stated under
the head of “Sunday in the Country,” it appeared that no less than
100,000 persons went by the steam-vessels to different places. In large
towns, Easter-Monday is a holiday, and you may see a few swings, shows,
and whirligigs for the children; but as you go farther into the country,
all trace of this once great festival fades away. In the midland
counties you rarely see a Paschal, or as it is more commonly called, a
Pace-Egg. These eggs, which are almost as ancient as the Ark, of which
they are a symbol, are to be found in almost all civilized countries.
They are an emblem of the resurrection. As the whole living world went
into the ark, and were shut up for a season, like the life in the egg,
so by the egg, the ancients for ages symbolized the tradition of that
great event, bringing eggs to the altars of their gods. The Hindoos even
conceive their god Brahme, once in a cycle of ages, to enter into the
egg, with the whole animated universe, and to float, like the ark, on
the waters of eternity, till the time comes to reproduce himself and all
things with him. So the Gnostics engrafted this idea on the Christian
religion; for the entrance of Christ into the tomb, and his
resurrection, were at once typified by the ark, and the egg, its symbol.
This adopted custom, as all such customs do which have a sentiment in
them dear to the human heart, flew far and wide. We have seen that the
Russians give paschal-eggs: but what is more singular, the Mohammedans
do the same. In France, in the week preceding Easter, baskets full of
eggs boiled hard, of a red or violet colour, are seen in the streets,
and the children amuse themselves with playing with, and afterwards
eating them. In Egypt, the cattle and trees were coloured red at this
period, because, they said, the world was once on fire at this time. The
egg, placed on the paschal table of the Jews, was a symbol of the
destruction of the human race, and of its regeneration. The egg entered
into all the mysterious ceremonies called apocalyptic; and the Persians,
who present it at the commencement of the new year, know that an egg is
the symbol of the world. Throughout the country of Bonneval, on the day
preceding Easter Sunday, and during the first days of that week, the
clerks of the different parishes, beadles, and certain artisans, go
about from house to house to ask for their Easter eggs. In many places
the children make a sort of feast at breakfast in Easter on red or
yellow eggs. The Druids had the egg in their ceremonies; and near Dieppe
is a Druidical barrow, where a fête used to be held by the country
people, till the Revolution, where vast crowds of both sexes assembled
from the neighbouring villages, and gave themselves up to a day of
sports and rejoicing, in which eggs figured most singularly.
The Pace-Eggs seem now to have retired northward in England. In
Yorkshire and Lancashire, and so northward, they may be found. They are
boiled hard, and beautifully coloured with various colours, some by
boiling them with different coloured ribbons bound round them; others by
colouring them of one colour, and scraping it away in a variety of
figures; others by boiling them within the coating of an onion, which
imparts to them the admired dye. Early in the morning of Easter-Monday,
in the Lancashire towns and villages where wooden clogs are worn, you
may hear a strange clatter on the pavement under your window. It is the
children, who are running to and fro, begging their Pace-Eggs.
In Staffordshire, Shropshire, Lancashire, Cheshire, and Durham, they
still retain the custom of _heaving_ or _lifting_ on Easter Monday and
Tuesday. In some of these counties on Monday, the men lift the women by
taking hold of their arms and legs, which is repeated nine times; and on
Tuesday the women use the like ceremony with the men. In other places,
the men on one day go decorated with ribbons into every house into which
they can get an entrance, force every woman to be seated in this
vehicle, and lift her up three times with loud huzzas; and on the next
the women claim the same privilege. In some places the women sit out in
the streets, and practise this odd ceremony on every male passenger that
they can catch, giving him a salute round; afterwards laying him under
contribution, and the sum thus derived they lay out in a tea-drinking.
Ball-play used to be practised on Easter-Sunday in the church, the
clergy and dignitaries joining in it. Corporations with the mace, sword,
and cap of maintenance, carried before them, used to go out on Monday,
to play at ball, and dance with the ladies. They used to eat
tansy-pudding and bacon as customary to the time. These, and many other,
to us, ridiculous customs were all of ancient pagan origin engrafted on
Christianity, and had all a symbolical meaning, most probably
unperceived by the multitude who used them. The lifting three times had
reference to the resurrection after three days; the ball was a symbol of
the world; tansy the bitter herbs of the passion, and bacon to express
their abhorrence of Jews, the destroyers of the Saviour.
We now see how all these festivities were kept alive by the art and
power of the church, and how soon they fell into mere pageants when the
Reformation poured in a truer light.
That the Reformation _did_ effect this change is most convincingly
proved by the retention of the old Catholic religious plays still in
Catholic countries. Mr. Hone, in his “Ancient Mysteries,” brings
together a variety of modern instances of such things on the continent;
and our travellers can furnish us with more. Moore’s mention of these
plays in his “Fudge Family in Paris,” in 1817, must be familiar to
everybody:
What folly
To say that the French are not pious, dear Dolly,
When here one beholds so correctly and rightly,
The _Testament_ turned into melo-drames nightly;
And doubtless, so fond they’re of scriptural facts,
They will soon get the _Pentateuch_ up in five acts.
Here _Daniel_, in pantomime, bids bold defiance
To _Nebuchadnezzar_ and all his stuffed lions.
In a note, he adds, that in this “_Daniel, ou la Fosse aux Lions_,”
JEHOVAH himself is made to appear! In 1822, M. Michelot, the Editor of
the _Mirour_, was arraigned at the tribunal for having ridiculed the
state religion, because he had published a description of a puppet-play
just then witnessed at Dieppe, consisting of the birth of Christ, the
passion, and the resurrection! and in which our Saviour, the Virgin,
Judas, Herod, etc., were most revoltingly introduced. During Congress at
Vienna in 1815, the _Allied Monarchs_ used to attend a _sacred comedy_,
of David, performed by the comedians of the National Theatre, in which
Austrian soldiers fired off their muskets and artillery in the character
of Jews and Philistines! It is needless to say that nothing of the kind
could be tolerated in this country.
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