The Project Gutenberg eBook of Christmas: Its Origin and Associations, by William Francis Dawson

at this period, was excellent, both as to quantity and quality, is evident, from a contribution made to Read's Weekly Journal, of Saturday, January 9, 1731, by Mr. Thomas North, who thus describes the Christmas entertainment and good cheer he met with in London at the house of a friend: "It was the house of an eminent and worthy merchant, and tho', sir, I have been accustomed in my own country to what may very well be called good housekeeping, yet I assure you I should have taken this dinner to have been provided for a whole parish, rather than for about a dozen gentlemen: 'Tis impossible for me to give you half our bill of fare, so you must be content to know that we had turkies, geese, capons, puddings of a dozen sorts more than I had ever seen in my life, besides brawn, roast beef, and many things of which I know not the names, minc'd pyes in abundance, and a thing they call plumb pottage, which may be good for ought I know, though it seems to me to have 50 different tastes. Our wines were of the best, as were all the rest of our liquors; in short, the God of plenty seemed to reign here, and to make everything perfect, our company was polite and every way agreeable; nothing but mirth and loyal healths went round. If a stranger were to have made an estimate of London from this place, he would imagine it not only the most rich but the most happy city in the world."

which has been cut from some publication and (by the late Mr. Joseph Haslewood) inserted between pages 358 and 359 of the British Museum large paper copy of Brand's "Antiquities," and dated December, 1739:—

"THE TRIAL OF OLD FATHER CHRISTMAS for encouraging his Majesty's subjects in Idleness, Drunkenness, Gaming, Rioting, and all manner of Extravagance and Debauchery, at the Assizes held in the city of Profusion before the Lord Chief Justice Churchman, Mr. Justice Feast, Mr. Justice Gambol, and several other his Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and Gaol-Delivery.

"To which is added a Diary found in the Pocket of Old Father Christmas, with Directions to all Lovers of him how to welcome their neighbours; likewise the Judge's sentence and Opinion how Christmas ought to be kept; and further Witty Tales and Merry Stories designed for Christmas Evenings Diversion, when round about our Coal Fire.

Printer for T. Cooper, at the Globe in Pater-noster Row; and sold by the Pamphlet-shops of London and Westminster."

The manner of observing the Christmas festival in the time of George the Second is described in an amusing little book entitled "Round about our Coal Fire, or Christmas Entertainments," published in 1740, and "illustrated with many diverting cuts." We quote the following extracts:—

PROLOGUE
I. "O you merry, merry souls, Christmas is a coming, We shall have flowing Bowls, Dancing, piping, drumming.
II. "Delicate minced Pies, To feast every Virgin, Capon and Goose likewise, Brawn and a dish of Sturgeon.
III. "Then for your Christmas Box, Sweet Plumb-cakes and money, Delicate Holland Smocks, Kisses sweet as Honey.
IV. "Hey for the Christmas Ball, Where we shall be jolly, Jigging short and tall, Kate, Dick, Ralph, and Molly.
V. "Then to the Hop we'll go, Where we'll jig and caper, Maidens all-a-row, Will shall pay the Scraper.
VI. "Hodge shall dance with Prue, Keeping Time with Kisses We'll have a jovial Crew, Of sweet smirking Misses.

"First acknowledging the sacredness of the Holy Time of Christmas, I proceed to set forth the Rejoicings which are generally made at that great Festival.

"You must understand, good People, that the manner of celebrating this great Course of Holydays is vastly different now to what it was in former days: There was once upon a time Hospitality in the land; an English gentleman at the opening of the great Day, had all his Tenants and Neighbours enter'd his Hall by Day-break, the strong Beer was broach'd, and the Black Jacks went plentifully about with Toast, Sugar, Nutmeg, and good Cheshire Cheese; the Rooms were embower'd with Holly, Ivy, Cypress, Bays, Laurel, and Missleto, and a bouncing Christmas Log in the Chimney glowing like the cheeks of a country Milk-maid; then was the pewter as bright as Clarinda, and every bit of Brass as polished as the most refined Gentleman; the Servants were then running here and there, with merry Hearts and jolly Countenances; every one was busy welcoming of Guests, and look'd as smug as new-lick'd Puppies; the Lasses as blithe and buxom as the maids in good Queen Bess's Days, when they eat Sir-Loins of Roast Beef for Breakfast; Peg would scuttle about to make a Toast for John, while Tom run harum scarum to draw a Jug of Ale for Margery: Gaffer Spriggins was bid thrice welcome by the 'Squire, and Gooddy Goose did not fail of a smacking Buss from his Worship while his Son and Heir did the Honours of the House: in a word, the Spirit of Generosity ran thro' the whole House.

"In these Times all the Spits were sparkling, the Hackin must be boiled by Day-break, or else two young Men took the Maiden by the Arms, and run her round the Market-place, till she was ashamed of her Laziness. And what was worse than this, she must not play with the Young Fellows that Day, but stand Neuter, like a Girl doing penance in a Winding-sheet at a Church-door.

"But now let us enquire a little farther, to arrive at the Sense of the Thing; this great Festival was in former Times kept with so much Freedom and Openness of Heart, that every one in the Country where a Gentleman resided, possessed at least a Day of Pleasure in the Christmas Holydays; the Tables were all spread from the first to the last, the Sir-Loyns of Beef, the Minc'd-Pies, the Plumb-Porridge, the Capons, Turkeys, Geese, and Plumb-Puddings, were all brought upon the board; and all those who had sharp stomachs and sharp Knives eat heartily and were welcome, which gave rise to the Proverb—

Merry in the Hall, when Beards wag all".

"There were then Turnspits employed, who by the time Dinner was over, would look as black and as greasy as a Welch Porridge-pot, but the Jacks have since turned them all out of Doors. The Geese which used to be fatted for the honest Neighbours, have been of late sent to London, and the Quills made into Pens to convey away the Landlord's Estate; the Sheep are drove away to raise Money to answer the Loss of a Game at Dice or Cards, and their Skins made into Parchment for Deeds and Indentures; nay even the poor innocent Bee, who used to pay its Tribute to the Lord once a Year at least in good Metheglin, for the Entertainment of the Guests, and its Wax converted into beneficial Plaisters for sick Neighbours, is now used for the sealing of Deeds to his Disadvantage.

"But give me the Man who has a good Heart, and has Spirit enough to keep up the Old way of Hospitality, feeds his People till they are as plump as Partridges, and as fat as Porpoises that every Servant may appear as jolly as the late Bishop of Winchester's Porter at Chelsea.

"The News-Papers however inform us, that the Spirit of Hospitality has not quite forsaken us; for three or four of them tell us, that several of the Gentry are gone down to their respective Seats in the Country, in order to keep their Christmas in the Old Way, and entertain their Tenants and Trades-folks as their Ancestors used to do and I wish them a merry Christmas accordingly. I must also take notice to the stingy Tribe, that if they don't at least make their Tenants or Tradesmen drink when they come to see them in the Christmas Holydays, they have Liberty of retaliating which is a Law of very ancient Date.

"A merry Gentleman of my Acquaintance desires I will insert, that the old Folks in Days of yore kept open House at Christmas out of Interest; for then, says he, they receive the greatest Part of their Rent in Kind; such as Wheat, Barley or Malt, Oxen, Calves, Sheep, Swine, Turkeys, Capon, Geese, and such like; and they not having Room enough to preserve their Grain, or Fodder enough to preserve their Cattle or Poultry, nor Markets to sell off the Overplus, they were obliged to use them in their own Houses; and by treating the People of the Country, gained Credit amongst them, and riveted the Minds and Goodwill of their Neighbours so firmly in them, that no one durst venture to oppose them. The 'Squire's Will was done whatever came on it; for if he happened to ask a Neighbour what it was a Clock, they returned with a low Scrape, it is what your Worship pleases.

"The Dancing and Singing of the Benchers in the great Inns of Court in Christmas, is in some sort founded upon Interest; for they hold, as I am informed, some Priviledge by Dancing about the Fire in the middle of their Hall, and singing the Song of Round about our Coal Fire, &c.

"This time of year being cold and frosty generally speaking, or when Jack-Frost commonly takes us by the Nose, the Diversions are within Doors, either in Exercise or by the Fire-side.

"Then comes Mumming or Masquerading, when the 'Squire's Wardrobe is ransacked for Dresses of all Kinds, and the coal-hole searched around, or corks burnt to black the Faces of the Fair, or make Deputy-Mustaches, and every one in the Family except the 'Squire himself must be transformed from what they were....

"Or else there is a Match at Blind-Man's-Buff, and then it is lawful to set anything in the way for Folks to tumble over....

"As for Puss in the Corner, that is a very harmless Sport, and one may romp at it as much as one will....

"The next game to this is Questions and Commands, when the Commander may oblige his Subject to answer any lawful Question, and make the same obey him instantly, under the penalty of being smutted, or paying such Forfeit as may be laid on the Aggressor; but the Forfeits being generally fixed at some certain Price, as a Shilling, Half a Crown, &c., so every one knowing what to do if they should be too stubborn to submit, make themselves easy at discretion.

"As for the Game of Hoop and Hide, the Parties have the Liberty of hiding where they will, in any part of the House; and if they happen to be caught, the Dispute ends in Kissing, &c.

"Most of the other Diversions are Cards and Dice, but they are seldom set on foot, unless a Lawyer is at hand, to breed some dispute for him to decide, or at least have some Party in.

"And now I come to another Entertainment frequently used, which is of the Story-telling Order, viz. of Hobgoblins, Witches, Conjurers, Ghosts, Fairies, and such like common Disturbers."

won him great applause. At Christmas, 1741, he brought out at Goodman's Fields a Christmas Farce, written by himself, entitled "The Lying Valet," wherein the great actor took the part of "Sharp." It was thought the most diverting farce ever performed. "There was a general roar from beginning to end. So great was his versatility that people were not able to determine whether he was best in tragedy or comedy." On his benefit, when his real name was placed on the bills for the first time, there was an immense gathering, and the applause was quite extraordinary.

under the romantic "Prince Charlie," whose attempted invasion of England speedily collapsed.

of this period. He states that at Merton College, Oxford, the Fellows meet together in the Hall, on Christmas Eve, to sing a Psalm and drink a grace-cup to one another (called Poculum Charitatis), wishing one another health and happiness.

and many refused to observe the festival eleven days earlier than usual, but insisted on keeping "Old Christmas Day." Why should they be robbed of eleven days by a new Act of Parliament? It was of no use to tell them that it had been discovered that the fractional few minutes which are tailed on to the days and hours which make up the year had, by neglect through many centuries, brought us into a wrong condition, and that to set us right it would be necessary to give credit for eleven days which nobody was conscious of having enjoyed. The law, however, had said that it should be so. Accordingly, the day after the 2nd of September, 1752, was called the 14th, to the great indignation of thousands, who reckoned that they had thus been cut off from nearly a fortnight of life which honestly belonged to them. These persons sturdily refused to acknowledge the Christmas Eve and Day of the new calendar. They averred that the true festival was that which now began on the 5th of January next year. They would go to church, they said, on no other day; nor eat mince-pies nor drink punch but in reference to this one day. The clergy had a hard time of it with these recusants. It will be well, therefore, to quote one singular example to show how this recusancy was encountered. It is from a collection of pamphlet-sermons preserved by George III., none of which, however, have anything curious or particularly meritorious about them save this one, which was preached on Friday, January 5, 1753, "Old Christmas Day." Mr. Francis Blackburne, "one of the candid disquisitors," opened his church on that day, which was crowded by a congregation anxious to see the day celebrated as that of the anniversary of the Nativity. The service for Christmas Day, however, was not used. "I will answer your expectations so far," said the preacher in his sermon, "as to give you a sermon on the day; and the rather because I perceive you are disappointed of something else that you expected." The purport of the discourse is to show that the change of style was desirable, and that it having been effected by Act of Parliament, with the sanction of the King, there was nothing for it but acquiescence. "For," says the preacher, "had I, to oblige you, disobeyed this Act of Parliament, it is very probable I might have lost my benefice, which, you know, is all the subsistence I have in the world; and I should have been rightly served; for who am I that I should fly in the face of his Majesty and the Parliament? These things are left to be ordered by the higher powers; and in any such case as that, I hope not to think myself wiser than the King, the whole nobility, and principal gentry of Great Britain"!!

The peasants of Buckinghamshire, however, pitched upon a very pretty method to settle the question of Christmas, left so meekly by Mr. Blackburne to the King, nobility, and most of the gentry. They bethought themselves of a blackthorn near one of their villages; and this thorn was for the nonce declared to be the growth of a slip from the Christmas-flowering thorn at Glastonbury. If the Buckinghamshire thorn, so argued the peasants, will only blossom in the night of the 24th of December, we will go to church next day, and allow that the Christmas by Act of Parliament is the true Christmas; but no blossom no feast, and there shall be no revel till the eve of old Christmas Day. They watched the thorn and drank to its budding; but as it produced no promise of a flower by the morning, they turned to go homewards as best they might, perfectly satisfied with the success of the experiment. Some were interrupted in their way by their respective "vicars," who took them by the arm and would fain have persuaded them to go to church. They argued the question by field, stile, and church-gate; but not a Bucks peasant would consent to enter a pew till the parson had promised to preach a sermon to, and smoke a pipe with, them on the only Christmas Day they chose to acknowledge.

Now, however, this old prejudice has been conquered, and the "new style" has maintained its ground. It has even done more, for its authors have so arranged the years and leap years that a confusion in the time of Christmas or any other festival is not likely to occur again.

CHAPTER XI.

MODERN CHRISTMASES AT HOME.

came to the throne on the death of his grandfather, George II. (October 25, 1760), and the first Christmas of his reign "was a high festival at Court, when his Majesty, preceded by heralds, pursuivants, &c., went with their usual state to the Chapel Royal, and heard a sermon preached by his Grace the Archbishop of York; and it being a collar day, the Knights of the Garter, Thistle and Bath, appeared in the collars of their respective orders. After the sermon was over, his Majesty, Prince Edward and Princess Augusta went into the Chapel Royal, and received the sacrament from the hands of the Bishop of Durham; and the King offered the byzant, or wedge of gold, in a purse, for the benefit of the poor, and the royal family all made offerings. His Majesty afterwards dined with his royal mother at Leicester House, and in the evening returned to St. James's."[79]

was card-playing. The King himself spent a great deal of his time in playing at cards with the ladies and gentlemen of his court. In doing so, however, he was but following the example of George II., of whom the biographer already quoted (Mr. Huish) says:—

"After the death of Queen Caroline, the King was very fond of a game at cards with the Countess of Pembroke, Albemarle, and other distinguished ladies. His attachment to cards was transferred to his attachment for the ladies, and it was said that what he gained by the one he lost by the other." Cards were very much resorted to at the family parties and other social gatherings held during the twelve days of Christmas. Hone makes various allusions to card-playing at Christmastide, and Washington Irving, in his "Life of Oliver Goldsmith," pictures the poet "keeping the card-table in an uproar." Mrs. Bunbury invited Goldsmith down to Barton to pass the Christmas holidays. Irving regrets "that we have no record of this Christmas visit to Barton; that the poet had no Boswell to follow at his heels, and take notes of all his sayings and doings. We can only picture him in our minds, casting off all care; enacting the Lord of Misrule; presiding at the Christmas revels; providing all kinds of merriment; keeping the card-table in an uproar, and finally opening the ball on the first day of the year in his spring-velvet suit, with the Jessamy Bride for a partner."

From the reprint additions made in the British Museum large paper copy of Brand's "Antiquities," by the late Mr. Joseph Haslewood, and dated January, 1779, we quote the following verses descriptive of the concluding portion of the Christmas festivities at this period:—

TWELFTH DAY.
Now the jovial girls and boys, Struggling for the cake and plumbs, Testify their eager joys, And lick their fingers and their thumbs.

Statesmen like, they struggle still, Scarcely hands kept out of dishes, And yet, when they have had their fill, Still anxious for the loaves and fishes.

Kings and Queens, in petty state, Now their sovereign will declare, But other sovereigns' plans they hate, Full fond of peace—detesting war.

One moral from this tale appears, Worth notice when a world's at stake; That all our hopes and all our fears, Are but a struggling for the Cake.

in the latter part of the eighteenth century are gleaned from contemporary writers:—

"At Ripon, on Christmas Eve, the grocers, send each of their customers a pound or half of currants and raisins to make a Christmas pudding. The chandlers also send large mould candles, and the coopers logs of wood, generally called Yule clogs, which are always used on Christmas Eve; but should it be so large as not to be all burnt that night, which is frequently the case, the remains are kept till old Christmas Eve."[80]

In Sinclair's Account of Scotland, parish of Kirkden, county of Angus (1792), Christmas is said to be held as a great festival in the neighbourhood. "The servant is free from his master, and goes about visiting his friends and acquaintance. The poorest must have beef or mutton on the table, and what they call a dinner with their friends. Many amuse themselves with various diversions, particularly with shooting for prizes, called here wad-shooting; and many do but little business all the Christmas week; the evening of almost every day being spent in amusement." And in the account of Keith, in Banffshire, the inhabitants are said to "have no pastimes or holidays, except dancing on Christmas and New Year's Day."

Boyhood's Christmas Breaking-up is thus described in a poem entitled "Christmas" (Bristol, 1795):—

"A school there was, within a well-known town, (Bridgwater call'd), in which the boys were wont, At breaking-up for Christmas' lov'd recess, To meet the master, on the happy morn, At early hour; the custom, too, prevail'd, That he who first the seminary reach'd Should, instantly, perambulate the streets With sounding horn, to rouse his fellows up; And, as a compensation for his care, His flourish'd copies, and his chapter-task, Before the rest, he from the master had. For many days, ere breaking-up commenced, Much was the clamour, 'mongst the beardless crowd, Who first would dare his well-warm'd bed forego, And, round the town, with horn of ox equipp'd, His schoolmates call. Great emulation glow'd In all their breasts; but, when the morning came, Straightway was heard, resounding through the streets, The pleasing blast (more welcome far, to them, Than is, to sportsmen, the delightful cry Of hounds on chase), which soon together brought A tribe of boys, who, thund'ring at the doors Of those, their fellows, sunk in Somnus' arms, Great hubbub made, and much the town alarm'd. At length the gladsome, congregated throng, Toward the school their willing progress bent, With loud huzzas, and, crowded round the desk, Where sat the master busy at his books, In reg'lar order, each receiv'd his own, The youngsters then, enfranchised from the school, Their fav'rite sports pursued."

A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine for February, 1795, gives the following account of a Christmas Eve custom at the house of Sir —— Holt, Bart., of Aston, near Birmingham:

"As soon as supper is over, a table is set in the hall. On it is placed a brown loaf, with twenty silver threepences stuck on the top of it, a tankard of ale, with pipes and tobacco; and the two oldest servants have chairs behind it, to sit as judges if they please. The steward brings the servants, both men and women, by one at a time, covered with a winnow-sheet, and lays their right hand on the loaf, exposing no other part of the body. The oldest of the two judges guesses at the person, by naming a name, then the younger judge, and lastly the oldest again. If they hit upon the right name, the steward leads the person back again; but, if they do not, he takes off the winnow-sheet, and the person receives a threepence, makes a low obeisance to the judges, but speaks not a word. When the second servant was brought, the younger judge guessed first and third; and this they did alternately, till all the money was given away. Whatever servant had not slept in the house the preceding night forfeited his right to the money. No account is given of the origin of this strange custom, but it has been practised ever since the family lived there. When the money is gone, the servants have full liberty to drink, dance, sing, and go to bed when they please."

Brand quotes the foregoing paragraph and asks: "Can this be what Aubrey calls the sport of 'Cob-loaf stealing'?"

When Christmas approaches each bosom is gay, That festival banishes sorrow away, While Richard he kisses both Susan and Dolly, When tricking the house up with ivy and holly; For never as yet it was counted a crime, To be merry and cherry at that happy time. For never as yet, &c.

Then comes turkey and chine, with the famous roast beef, Of English provisions still reckon'd the chief; Roger whispers the cook-maid his wishes to crown, O Dolly! pray give me a bit of the brown; For never as yet it was counted a crime, To be merry and cherry at that happy time. For never as yet, &c.

The luscious plum-pudding does smoking appear, And the charming mince pye is not far in the rear, Then each licks his chops to behold such a sight, But to taste it affords him superior delight; For never as yet it was counted a crime, To be merry and cherry at that happy time. For never as yet, &c.

Now the humming October goes merrily round, And each with good humour is happily crown'd, The song and the dance, and the mirth-giving jest, Alike without harm by each one is expressed; For never as yet it was counted a crime, To be merry and cherry at that happy time. For never as yet, &c.

Twelfth Day next approaches, to give you delight, And the sugar'd rich cake is display'd to the sight, Then sloven and slut and the king and the queen, Alike must be present to add to the scene; For never as yet it was counted a crime, To be merry and cherry at that happy time. For never as yet, &c.

May each be found thus as the year circles round, With mirth and good humour each Christmas be crown'd, And may all who have plenty of riches in store With their bountiful blessings make happy the poor; For never as yet it was counted a crime, To be merry and cherry at that happy time. For never as yet, &c.[81]

In his essay on "Recollections of Christ's Hospital," Charles Lamb thus refers to the Christmas festivities of his schoolboy days:—

"Let me have leave to remember the festivities at Christmas, when the richest of us would club our stock to have a gaudy day, sitting round the fire, replenished to the height with logs, and the pennyless, and he that could contribute nothing, partook in all the mirth, and in some of the substantialities of the feasting; the carol sung by night at that time of the year, which, when a young boy, I have so often lain awake to hear from seven (the hour of going to bed) till ten when it was sung by the older boys and monitors, and have listened to it, in their rude chaunting, till I have been transported in fancy to the fields of Bethlehem, and the song which was sung at that season, by angels' voices to the shepherds."

"It were unwisely done, should we refuse To cheer our path, as featly as we may— Our lonely path to cheer, as travellers use, With merry song, quaint tale, or roundelay. And we will sometimes talk past troubles o'er, Of mercies shown, and all our sickness heal'd, And in His judgments God remembering love: And we will learn to praise God evermore, For those 'glad tidings of great joy,' reveal'd By that sooth messenger, sent from above."

Writing to Southey, in 1798, Lamb tells the poet that Christmas is a "glorious theme"; and addressing his "dear old friend and absentee," Mr. Manning, at Canton, on December 25, 1815, Lamb says:—"This is Christmas Day, 1815, with us; what it may be with you I don't know, the 12th of June next year perhaps; and if it should be the consecrated season with you, I don't see how you can keep it. You have no turkeys; you would not desecrate the festival by offering up a withered Chinese bantam, instead of the savoury grand Norfolcian holocaust, that smokes all around my nostrils at this moment from a thousand firesides. Then what puddings have you? Where will you get holly to stick in your churches, or churches to stick your dried tea-leaves (that must be the substitute) in? Come out of Babylon, O my friend."

"Ranged in a row, with guitars slung Before them thus, they played and sung: Their instruments and choral voice Bid each glad guest still more rejoice; And each guest wish'd again to hear Their wild guitars and voices clear."[82]

at the beginning of the nineteenth century include the old Christmas game of Forfeits, for every breach of the rules of which the players have to deposit some little article as a forfeit, to be redeemed by some sportive penalty, imposed by the "Crier of the Forfeits" (usually a bonnie lassie). The "crying of the forfeits" and paying of the penalties creates much merriment, particularly when a bashful youth is sentenced to "kiss through the fire-tongs" some beautiful romp of a girl, who delights playing him tricks while the room rings with laughter.

Some of the old pastimes, however, have fallen into disuse, as, for instance, the once popular game of Hot Cockles, Hunt the Slipper, and "the vulgar game of Post and Pair"; but Cards are still popular, and Snapdragon continues such Christmas merriment as is set forth in the following verses:—

"Here he comes with flaming bowl, Don't he mean to take his toll, Snip! Snap! Dragon! Take care you don't take too much, Be not greedy in your clutch, Snip! Snap! Dragon!

With his blue and lapping tongue Many of you will be stung, Snip! Snap! Dragon! For he snaps at all that comes Snatching at his feast of plums, Snip! Snap! Dragon!

But old Christmas makes him come, Though he looks so fee! fa! fum! Snip! Snap! Dragon! Don't 'ee fear him, be but bold— Out he goes, his flames are cold, Snip! Snap! Dragon!"

"Don't 'ee fear him, be but bold," accords with the advice of a writer in "Pantalogia," in 1813, who says that when the brandy in the bowl is set on fire, and raisins thrown into it, those who are unused to the sport are afraid to take out, but the raisins may be safely snatched by a quick motion and put blazing into the mouth, which being closed, the fire is at once extinguished. The game requires both courage and rapidity of action, and a good deal of merriment is caused by the unsuccessful efforts of competitors for the raisins in the flaming bowl.

A favourite game of Christmastide, is thus described by Thomas Miller, in his "Sports and Pastimes of Merry England":—

"The very youngest of our brothers and sisters can join in this old English game: and it is selfish to select only such sports as they cannot become sharers of. Its ancient name is 'hoodman-blind'; and when hoods were worn by both men and women—centuries before hats and caps were so common as they are now—the hood was reversed, placed hind-before, and was, no doubt, a much surer way of blinding the player than that now adopted—for we have seen Charley try to catch his pretty cousin Caroline, by chasing her behind chairs and into all sorts of corners, to our strong conviction that he was not half so well blinded as he ought to have been. Some said he could see through the black silk handkerchief; others that it ought to have been tied clean over his nose, for that when he looked down he could see her feet, wherever she moved; and Charley had often been heard to say that she had the prettiest foot and ankle he had ever seen. But there he goes, head over heels across a chair, tearing off Caroline's gown skirt in his fall, as he clutches it in the hope of saving himself. Now, that is what I call retributive justice; for she threw down the chair for him to stumble over, and, if he has grazed his knees, she suffers under a torn dress, and must retire until one of the maids darn up the rent. But now the mirth and glee grow 'fast and furious,' for hoodman blind has imprisoned three or four of the youngest boys in a corner, and can place his hand on whichever he likes. Into what a small compass they have forced themselves! But the one behind has the wall at his back, and, taking advantage of so good a purchase, he sends his three laughing companions sprawling on the floor, and is himself caught through their having fallen, as his shoulder is the first that is grasped by Blindman-buff—so that he must now submit to be hooded."

"Again the ball-room is wide open thrown, The oak beams festooned with the garlands gay; The red dais where the fiddlers sit alone, Where, flushed with pride, the good old tunes they play. Strike, fiddlers, strike! we're ready for the set; The young folks' feet are eager for the dance; We'll trip Sir Roger and the minuet, And revel in the latest games from France."[83]

"Man should be called a dancing animal," said Old Florentine; and Burton, in his "Anatomy of Melancholy," says, "Young lasses are never better pleased than when, upon a holiday, after even-song, they may meet their sweethearts and dance." And dancing is just as popular at Christmas in the present day, as it was in that mediæval age when (according to William of Malmesbury) the priest Rathbertus, being disturbed at his Christmas mass by young men and women dancing outside the church, prayed God and St. Magnus that they might continue to dance for a whole year without cessation—a prayer which the old chronicler gravely assures us was answered.

And well our Christian sires of old Loved when the year its course had roll'd, And brought blithe Christmas back again, With all his hospitable train. Domestic and religious rite Gave honour to the holy night:

On Christmas Eve the bells were rung; On Christmas Eve the mass was sung: That only night in all the year, Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear. The damsel donn'd her kirtle sheen; The hall was dress'd with holly green; Forth to the wood did merry-men go, To gather in the mistletoe. Then open'd wide the Baron's hall To vassal, tenant, serf, and all; Power laid his rod of rule aside, And Ceremony doffed his pride. The heir, with roses in his shoes, That night might village partner choose. The lord, underogating, share The vulgar game of "post and pair."

All hail'd, with uncontroll'd delight, And general voice, the happy night That to the cottage, as the crown, Brought tidings of salvation down!

The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, Went roaring up the chimney wide; The huge hall-table's oaken face, Scrubb'd till it shone, the day to grace Bore then upon its massive board No mark to part the squire and lord.

Then was brought in the lusty brawn By old blue-coated serving man; Then the grim boar's-head frowned on high, Crested with bays and rosemary. Well can the green-garbed ranger tell How, when, and where the monster fell; What dogs before his death he tore, And all the baiting of the boar. The wassail round in good brown bowls, Garnish'd with ribbons, blithely trowls. There the huge sirloin reek'd; hard by Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas-pye; Nor fail'd old Scotland to produce, At such high tide, her savoury goose. Then came the merry masquers in, And carols roar'd with blithesome din If unmelodious was the song, It was a hearty note, and strong. Who lists may in their mumming see Traces of ancient mystery; White shirts supplied the masquerade, And smutted cheeks the visors made; But oh! what masquers, richly dight, Can boast of bosoms half so light! England was merry England when Old Christmas brought his sports again. 'Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale, 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale; A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year. Sir Walter Scott, 1808.