A gentleman obligingly contributes the subjoined account of a northern
usage on the 5th of December, the vigil of St. Nicholas. He communicates
his name to the editor, and vouches for the authenticity of his
relation, “having _himself_ been an _actor_ in the scene he describes.”
(_For the Every-Day Book._)
In the fine old city of Leewvarden, the capital of West Friezland, there
are some curious customs preserved, connected with the celebration of
the anniversary of this saint. From time immemorial, in this province,
St. Nicholas has been hailed as the tutelary patron of children and
confections; no very inappropriate association, perhaps. On the eve, or
_Avond_, as it is there termed, of this festival, the good saint
condescends, (as currently asserted, and religiously believed, by the
_younger fry_,) to visit these sublunar spheres, and to irradiate by his
majestic presence, the winter fireside of his infant votaries.
During a residence in the above town, some twenty years agone, in the
brief days of happy boyhood, (that green spot in our existence,) it was
my fortune to be present at one of these annual visitations. Imagine a
group of happy youngsters sporting around the domestic hearth, in all
the buoyancy of riotous health and spirits, brim-full of joyful
expectation, but yet in an occasional pause, casting frequent glances
towards the door, with a comical expression of impatience, mixed up with
something like dread of the impending event. At last a loud knock is
heard, in an instant the games are suspended, and the door slowly
unfolding, reveals to sight the venerated saint himself, arrayed in his
pontificals, with pastoral staff and jewelled mitre. Methinks I see him
now! yet he did “_his spiriting gently_,” and his tone of reproof, “_was
more in sorrow than in anger!_”
In fine, the family _peccadillos_ being tenderly passed over, and the
more favourable reports made the subject of due encomiums, good father
Nicholas gave his parting benediction, together with the promise, (never
known to fail,) of more substantial benefits, to be realized on the next
auspicious morning. So ends the first act of the farce, which it will be
readily anticipated is got up with the special connivance of _papa_ and
_mamma_, by the assistance of some family friend, who is quite _au fait_
to the domestic politics of the establishment. The concluding scene,
however, is one of unalloyed pleasure to the delighted children, and is
thus arranged.
Before retiring to rest, each member of the family deposits a _shoe_ on
a table in a particular room, which is _carefully_ locked, and the next
morning is opened in the presence of the assembled household; when lo!
by the mysterious agency (doubtless) of the munificent saint, the board
is found covered with _bons bons_, toys, and trinkets.
It may not be deemed irrelevant to add, that on the anniversary, the
confectioners’ shops display their daintiest inventions, and are gaily
lighted up and ornamented for public exhibition, much in the same way as
at Paris on the first day of the new year.
These reminiscences may not prove unacceptable to many, who contemplate
with satisfaction the relics of ancient observances, belonging to a more
primitive state of manners, the memory of which is rapidly passing into
oblivion; and who, perhaps, think with the writer, in one sense at
least, that modern refinements, if they tend to render us wiser, hardly
make us happier!