Filled the old familiar places,
The barley-fields, where Ruth of old went gleaning with the birds.
Down the skies the host came swirling,
Like sea-waters white and whirling,
And our hearts were strangely shaken by the wonder of their words.
Haste, O people: all are bidden--
Haste from places high or hidden:
In Mary's Child the Kingdom comes, the heaven in beauty bends!
He has made all life completer,
He has made the Plain Way sweeter,
For the stall is His first shelter, and the cattle His first friends.
He has come! the skies are telling:
He has quit the glorious dwelling;
And first the tidings came to us, the humble shepherd folk.
He has come to field and manger,
And no more is God a Stranger:
He comes as Common Man at home with cart and crookèd yoke.
As the shadow of a cedar
To a traveler in gray Kedar
Will be the kingdom of His love, the kingdom without end.
Tongue and ages may disclaim Him,
Yet the Heaven of heavens will name Him
Lord of prophets, Light of nations, elder Brother, tender Friend.
EDWIN MARKHAM in _Lincoln and Other Poems_
_By permission_
A Christmas Hymn
Tell me what is this innumerable throng
Singing in the heavens a loud angelic song?
_These are they who come with swift and shining feet
From round about the throne of God the Lord of Light to greet._
O, who are these that hasten beneath the starry sky,
As if with joyful tidings that through the world shall fly?
_The faithful shepherds these, who greatly were afeared
When, as they watched their flocks by night, the heavenly host
appeared._
Who are these that follow across the hills of night
A star that westward hurries along the fields of light?
_Three wise men from the east who myrrh and treasure bring
To lay them at the feet of him, their Lord and Christ and King._
What babe new-born is this that in a manger cries?
Near on her bed of pain his happy mother lies.
_O, see! the air is shaken with white and heavenly wings--
This is the Lord of all the earth, this is the King of kings._
Tell me, how may I join in this holy feast
With all the kneeling world, and I of all the least?
_Fear not, O faithful heart, but bring what most is meet;
Bring love alone, true love alone, and lay it at his feet._
RICHARD WATSON GILDER
_By permission of Houghton Mifflin Company_
[Illustration: THE MADONNA. _Murillo._]
A Christmas Hymn for Children
Our bells ring to all the earth,
_In excelsis gloria!_
But none for Thee made chimes of mirth
On that great morning of Thy birth.
Our coats they lack not silk nor fur,
_In excelsis gloria!_
Not such Thy Blessed Mother's were;
Full simple garments covered Her.
Our churches rise up goodly high,
_In excelsis gloria!_
Low in a stall Thyself did lie,
With hornèd oxen standing by.
Incense we breathe and scent of wine,
_In excelsis gloria!_
Around Thee rose the breath of kine,
Thy only drink Her breast Divine.
We take us to a happy tree,
_In excelsis gloria!_
The seed was sown that day for Thee
That blossomed out of Calvary.
Teach us to feed Thy poor with meat,
_In excelsis gloria!_
Who turnest not when we entreat,
Who givest us Thy Bread to eat.
_Amen._
From the volume of _Poems_ by JOSEPHINE DASKAM BACON
_By permission of Charles Scribner's Sons_
Slumber-Songs of the Madonna
PRELUDE
Dante saw the great white Rose
Half unclose;
Dante saw the golden bees
Gathering from its heart of gold
Sweets untold,
Love's most honeyed harmonies.
Dante saw the threefold bow
Strangely glow,
Saw the Rainbow Vision rise,
And the Flame that wore the crown
Bending down
O'er the flowers of Paradise.
Something yet remained, it seems;
In his dreams
Dante missed--as angels may
In their white and burning bliss--
Some small kiss
Mortals meet with every day.
Italy in splendour faints
'Neath her saints!
O, her great Madonnas, too,
Faces calm as any moon
Glows in June,
Hooded with the night's deep blue!
What remains? I pass and hear
Everywhere,
Ay, or see in silent eyes
Just the song she still would sing.
Thus--a-swing
O'er the cradle where He lies.
I
Sleep, little baby, I love thee;
Sleep, little king, I am bending above thee!
How should I know what to sing
Here in my arms as I swing thee to sleep?
Hushaby low,
Rockaby so,
Kings may have wonderful jewels to bring,
Mother has only a kiss for her king!
Why should my singing so make me to weep?
Only I know that I love thee, I love thee,
Love thee, my little one, sleep.
II
_Is it a dream? Ah, yet it seems
Not the same as other dreams!_
I can but think that angels sang,
When thou wast born, in the starry sky,
And that their golden harps out-rang
While the silver clouds went by!
The morning sun shuts out the stars,
Which are much loftier than the sun;
But, could we burst our prison-bars
And find the Light whence light begun,
The dreams that heralded thy birth
Were truer than the truths of earth;
And, by that far immortal Gleam,
Soul of my soul, I still would dream!
A ring of light was round thy head,
The great-eyed oxen nigh thy bed
Their cold and innocent noses bowed,
Their sweet breath rose like an incense cloud
In the blurred and mystic lanthorn light!
About the middle of the night
The black door blazed like some great star
With a glory from afar,
Or like some mighty chrysolite
Wherein an angel stood with white
Blinding arrowy bladed wings
Before the throne of the King of kings;
And, through it, I could dimly see
A great steed tethered to a tree.
Then, with crimson gems aflame
Through the door the three kings came,
And the black Ethiop unrolled
The richly broidered cloth of gold,
And pourèd forth before thee there
Gold and frankincense and myrrh!
III
See, what a wonderful smile! Does it mean
That my little one knows of my love?
Was it meant for an angel that passed unseen,
And smiled at us both from above?
Does it mean that he knows of the birds and the flowers
That are waiting to sweeten his childhood's hours,
And the tales I shall tell and the games he will play,
And the songs we shall sing and the prayers we shall pray
In his boyhood's May,
He and I, one day?
IV
All in the warm blue summer weather
We shall laugh and love together:
I shall watch my baby growing,
I shall guide his feet,
When the orange trees are blowing,
And the winds are heavy and sweet!
When the orange orchards whiten
I shall see his great eyes brighten
To watch the long-legged camels going
Up the twisted street,
When the orange trees are blowing,
And the winds are sweet.
_What does it mean? Indeed, it seems
A dream! Yet not like other dreams!_
We shall walk in pleasant vales,
Listening to the shepherd's song,
I shall tell him lovely tales
All day long:
He shall laugh while mother sings
Tales of fishermen and kings.
He shall see them come and go
O'er the wistful sea,
Where rosy oleanders blow
Round blue Lake Galilee,
Kings with fishers' ragged coats
And silver nets across their boats
Dipping through the starry glow,
With crowns for him and me!
Ah, no;
Crowns for him, not me!
_Rockaby so! Indeed, it seems
A dream! Yet not like other dreams!_
V
Ah, see what a wonderful smile again!
Shall I hide it away in my heart,
To remember one day in a world of pain
When the years have torn us apart,
Little babe,
When the years have torn us apart?
Sleep, my little one, sleep,
Child with the wonderful eyes,
Wild miraculous eyes,
Deep as the skies are deep!
What star-bright glory of tears
Waits in you now for the years
That shall bid you waken and weep?
Ah, in that day, could I kiss you to sleep
Then, little lips, little eyes,
Little lips that are lovely and wise,
Little lips that are dreadful and wise!
VI
Clenched little hands like crumpled roses,
Dimpled and dear,
Feet like flowers that the dawn uncloses,
What do I fear?
Little hands, will you ever be clenched in anguish?
White little limbs, will you droop and languish?
Nay, what do I hear?
I hear a shouting, far away,
You shall ride on a kingly palm-strewn way
Some day!
But when you are crowned with a golden crown
And throned on a golden throne,
You'll forget the manger of Bethlehem town
And your mother that sits alone
Wondering whether the mighty king
Remembers a song she used to sing,
Long ago,--
"_Rockaby so,
Kings may have wonderful jewels to bring,
Mother has only a kiss for her king!_"...
Ah, see what a wonderful smile, once more!
He opens his great dark eyes!
Little child, little king, nay, hush, it is o'er,
My fear of those deep twin skies,--
Little child,
You are all too dreadful and wise!
VII
But now you are mine, all mine,
And your feet can lie in my hand so small,
And your tiny hands in my heart can twine,
And you cannot walk, so you never shall fall,
Or be pierced by the thorns beside the door,
Or the nails that lie upon Joseph's floor;
Through sun and rain, through shadow and shine,
You are mine, all mine!
ALFRED NOYES in _The Golden Hynde_
Copyrighted by Messrs. Blackwood in _Forty Singing Seamen_
VII
CHRISTMAS REVELS
[Illustration: CHRISTMAS REVELS]
Make me merry both more and less
The Feast of Saint Stephen in Venice
The Feast of Fools
The Feast of the Ass
The Revel of Sir Hugonin de Guisay, 1393
Revels of the Inner Temple--Inns of Court
King Witlaf's Drinking-Horn
Old Christmastide
Christmas Games in "Old Wardle's" Kitchen
A "Mystery" as performed in Mexico
[Illustration]
_Make me merry both more and less,
For now is the time of Christymas!_
Let no man come into this hall,
Groom, page, not yet marshall,
But that some sport he bring withal!
_For now is the time of Christmas!_
If that he say, he cannot sing,
Some other sport then let him bring!
That it may please at this feasting!
_For now is the time of Christmas!_
If he say he can naught do,
Then for my love ask him no mo!
But to the stocks then let him go!
_For now is the time of Christmas!_
_From a Balliol MS. of about 1540_
The Feast of Saint Stephen in Venice
The Doge's banquets especially took the importance of public
spectacles, and were always five in number, given at the feasts of
Saint Mark, the Ascension, Saint Vitus, Saint Jerome, and Saint
Stephen, after the last of which the distribution of the 'oselle' took
place, representing the ducks of earlier days, as the reader will
remember. At these great dinners there were generally a hundred guests;
the Doge's counsellors, the Heads of the Ten, the Avogadors and the
heads of all the other magistracies had a right to be invited, but the
rest of the guests were chosen among the functionaries at the Doge's
pleasure.
In the banquet-hall there were a number of side-boards on which was
exhibited the silver, part of which belonged to the Doge and part to
the State, and this was shown twenty-four hours before the feast. It
was under the keeping of a special official. The glass service used on
the table for flowers and for dessert was of the finest made in Murano.
Each service, though this is hard to believe, is said to have been used
in public only once, and was designed to recall some important event of
contemporary history by trophies, victories, emblems, and allegories.
I find this stated by Giustina Renier Michiel, who was a contemporary,
was noble, and must have often seen these banquets.
The public was admitted to view the magnificent spectacle during the
whole of the first course, and the ladies of the aristocracy went in
great numbers. It was their custom to walk round the tables, talking
with those of their friends who sat among the guests, and accepting the
fruits and sweetmeats which the Doge and the rest offered them, rising
from their seats to do so. The Doge himself rose from his throne to
salute those noble ladies whom he wished to distinguish especially.
Sovereigns passing through Venice at such times did not disdain to
appear as mere spectators at the banquets, which had acquired the
importance of national anniversaries.
Between the first and second courses, a majestic chamberlain shook a
huge bunch of keys while he walked round the hall, and at this hint
all visitors disappeared. The feast sometimes lasted several hours,
after which the Doge's squires presented each of the guests with a
great basket filled with sweetmeats, fruits, comfits, and the like, and
adorned with the ducal arms. Every one rose to thank the Doge for these
presents, and he took advantage of the general move to go back to his
private apartments. The guests accompanied him to the threshold, where
his Serenity bowed to them without speaking, and every one returned his
salute in silence. He disappeared within, and all went home.
During this ceremony of leave-taking, the gondoliers of the guests
entered the hall of the banquet and each carried the basket received
by his master to some lady indicated by the latter. "One may imagine,"
cries the good Dame Michiel, "what curiosity there was about the
destination of the baskets, but the faithful gondoliers regarded
mystery as a point of honour, though the basket was of such dimensions
that it was impossible to take it anywhere unobserved; happy were they
who received these evidences of a regard which at once touched their
feelings and flattered their legitimate pride! The greatest misfortune
was to have to share the prize with another."
F. MARION CRAWFORD in _Salve Venetia!_
The Feast of Fools
Beletus, who lived in 1182, mentions the Feast of Fools, as celebrated
in some places on New Year's day, in others on Twelfth Night and in
still others the week following. It seems at any rate to have been
one of the recognized revels of the Christmas season. In France, at
different cathedral churches there was a Bishop or an Archbishop of
Fools elected, and in the churches immediately dependent upon the papal
see a Pope of Fools.
These mock pontiffs had usually a proper suite of ecclesiastics, and
one of their ridiculous ceremonies was to shave the Precentor of Fools
upon a stage erected before the church in the presence of the jeering
"vulgar populace."
They were mostly attired in the ridiculous dresses of pantomime players
and buffoons, and so habited entered the church, and performed the
ceremony accompanied by crowds of followers representing monsters
or so disguised as to excite fear or laughter. During this mockery
of a divine service they sang indecent songs in the choir, ate rich
puddings on the corner of the altar, played at dice upon it during the
celebration of a mass, incensed it with smoke from old burnt shoes, and
ran leaping all over the church. The Bishop or Pope of Fools performed
the service and gave benediction, dressed in pontifical robes. When it
was concluded he was seated in an open carriage and drawn about the
town followed by his train, who in place of carnival confetti threw
filth from a cart upon the people who crowded to see the procession.
These "December liberties," as they were called, were always held at
Christmas time or near it, but were not confined to one particular day,
and seem to have lasted through the chief part of January. When the
ceremony took place upon St. Stephen's Day, they said as part of the
mass a burlesque composition, called the Fool's Prose, and upon the
festival of St. John the Evangelist, they had another arrangement of
ludicrous songs, called the Prose of the Ox.
WILLIAM HONE in _Ancient Mysteries_
The Feast of the Ass
As this was anciently celebrated in France, it almost entirely
consisted of dramatic show. It was instituted in honor of Balaam's ass,
and at one of them the clergy walked on Christmas Day in procession,
habited to represent the prophets and others.
Moses appeared in an alb and cope with a long beard and a rod. David
had a green vestment. Balaam, with an immense pair of spurs, rode on
a wooden ass which enclosed a speaker. There were also six Jews and
six Gentiles. Among other characters, the poet Virgil was introduced
singing monkish rhymes, as a Gentile prophet, and a translator of the
sibylline oracles. They thus moved in a procession through the body
of the church chanting versicles, and conversing in character on the
nativity and kingdom of Christ till they came into the choir.
This service, as performed in the cathedral at Rouen, commenced with
a procession in which the clergy represented the prophets of the
Old Testament who foretold the birth of Christ; then followed Balaam
mounted on his ass, Zacharias, Elizabeth, John the Baptist, the sibyl,
Erythree, Simeon, Virgil, Nebuchadnezzar, and the three children in the
furnace. After the procession entered the cathedral, several groups
of persons performed the parts of Jews and Gentiles, to whom the
choristers addressed speeches; afterwards they called on the prophets
one by one, who came forward successively and delivered a passage
relative to the Messiah. The other characters advanced to occupy their
proper situations, and reply in certain verses to the questions of the
choristers. They performed the miracle of the furnace; Nebuchadnezzar
spoke, the sibyl appeared at the last, and then an anthem was sung,
which concluded the ceremony.
The Missal of an Archbishop of Sens indicates that during such a
service, the animal itself, clad with precious priestly ornaments, was
solemnly conducted to the middle of the choir, during which procession
a hymn in praise of the ass was sung--ending with--
Amen! bray, most honour'd Ass,
Sated now with grain and grass:
Amen repeat, Amen reply,
And disregard antiquity.
_Hez va! hez va! hez va! hez!_
The service lasted the whole of a night and part of the next day, and
formed altogether the strangest, most ridiculous medley of whatever
was usually sung at church festivals. When the choristers were thirsty
wine was distributed; in the evening, on a platform before the church,
lit by an enormous lantern, the grand chanter of Sens led a jolly band
in performing broadly indecorous interludes. At respective divisions
of the service the ass was supplied with drink and provender. In
the middle of it, at the signal of a certain anthem, the ass being
conducted into the nave of the church, the people mixed with the clergy
danced around him, imitating his braying.
WILLIAM HONE in _Ancient Mysteries_
The Revel of Sir Hugonin de Guisay
Memorable as an illustration of the manners of the French Court was
a catastrophe that occurred in Paris in 1393. Riot and disorder had
run wild all through the Christmas festivities. But the Court was not
yet satisfied. Then Sir Hugonin de Guisay, most reckless among all
the reckless spirits of the period, suggested that as an excuse for
prolonging the merriment a marriage should be arranged between two of
the court attendants. This was eagerly agreed upon. Sir Hugonin assumed
the leadership, for which he was well fitted. He was loved and admired
by the disorderly as much as he was hated and feared by the orderly.
Among other pleasant traits, he was fond of exercising his wit upon
tradesmen and mechanics, whom he would accost in the street, prick with
his spurs, and compel to creep on all fours and bark like curs before
he released them. Such traits endeared him to the courtiers of the
young Most Gracious Majesty and Christian King of France. The marriage
passed off in a blaze of glory and accompaniments of Gargantuan
pleasantry. At the height of the ceremonies Sir Hugonin quietly
withdrew with the king and four other wild ones, scions of the noblest
houses in France. With a pot of tar and a quantity of tow the six
conspirators were speedily changed into a very fair imitation of the
dancing bears then very common in mountebanks' booths. A mask completed
the transformation. Five were then bound together with a silken rope.
The sixth, the king himself, led them into the hall.
Their appearance created a general stir. "Who are they?" was the cry.
Nobody knew. At this moment entered the wildest of all the wild Dukes
of Orleans. "Who are they?" he echoed between hiccoughs. "Well, we'll
soon find out." Seizing a brand from one of the torch bearers ranged
around the wall, he staggered forward. Some gentlemen essayed to stay
him. But he was obstinate and quarrelsome. Main force could not be
thought of against a prince of the blood. He was given his way. He
thrust his torch under the chin of the nearest of the maskers. The
tow caught fire. In a moment the whole group was in flames. The young
Duchess of Berri seized the king and enveloped him in her ample quilted
robe. Thus he was saved. Another masker, the Lord of Nanthouillet,
noted for strength and agility, rent the silken rope with a wrench of
his strong teeth, pitched himself like a flaming comet through the
first window, and dived into a cistern in the court, whence he emerged
black and smoking, but almost unhurt. As for the other four, they
whirled hither and thither through the horrified mob, struggling with
one another, fighting with the flames, cursing, shrieking with pain.
Women fainted by scores. Men who had never faltered in a hundred fights
sickened at the hideous spectacle. All Paris was roused by the uproar,
and gathered, an excited mob, about the palace. At last the flames
burnt out. The four maskers lay in a black and writhing heap upon the
floor. One was a mere cinder. A second survived until daybreak. A third
died at noon the next day. The fourth--none other than Sir Hugonin
himself--survived for three days, while all Paris rejoiced over his
agonies. "Bark, dog, bark," was the cry with which the citizens saluted
his charred and mangled corpse, when it was at last borne to the grave.
W. S. WALSH in _Curiosities of Popular Customs_
Revels of the Inner Temple--Inns of Court
On St. Stephen's Day, after the first course was served in, the
constable marshal was wont to enter the hall (and we think he had much
better have come in, and said all he had to say beforehand) bravely
arrayed with "a fair rich compleat harneys, white and bright and
gilt, with a nest of fethers, of all colours, upon his crest or helm,
and a gilt pole ax in his hand," and, no doubt, thinking himself a
prodigiously fine fellow. He was accompanied by the lieutenant of the
Tower, "armed with a fair white armour," also wearing "fethers," and
"with a pole ax in his hand," and of course also thinking himself a
very fine fellow. With them came sixteen trumpeters, preceded by four
drums and fifes, and attended by four men clad in white "harneys,"
from the middle upwards, having halberds in their hands, and bearing
on their shoulders a model of the Tower, and each and every one of
these latter personages, in his degree, having a consciousness that he,
too, was a fine fellow. Then all these fine fellows, with the drums
and music, and with all their "fethers" and finery, went three times
round the fire, whereas, considering that the boar's head was cooling
all the time, we think once might have sufficed. Then the constable
marshal, after three courtesies, knelt down before the Lord Chancellor,
with the lieutenant doing the same behind him, and then and there
deliberately proceeded to deliver himself of an "oration of a quarter
of an hour's length," the purport of which was to tender his services
to the Lord Chancellor, which, we think, at such a time, he might have
contrived to do in fewer words. To this the Chancellor was unwise
enough to reply that he would "take farther advice therein," when it
would have been much better for him to settle the matter at once, and
proceed to eat his dinner. However, this part of the ceremony ended
at last by the constable marshal and the lieutenant obtaining seats
at the Chancellor's table, upon the former giving up his sword; and
then enter, for a similar purpose, the master of the game, apparelled
in green velvet, and the ranger of the forest, in a green suit of
"satten," bearing in his hand a green bow, and "divers" arrows, "with
either of them a hunting-horn about their necks, blowing together three
blasts of venery." These worthies, also, thought it necessary to parade
their finery three times around the fire; and having then made similar
obeisances, and offered up a similar petition in a similar posture,
they were finally inducted into a similar privilege.