St. Nicholas Day—The Boy Bishop—Christmas Eve—Christmas Customs—Mummers—"Lord of Misrule"—Conclusion.
OW dark and chill December has arrived; and very dark and chill it must have seemed to our ancestors. No gaslights illuminated the streets, here and there a feeble oil lamp helped to make the darkness visible, when the oil was not frozen: the roads were deep with mud, and everything outside was cold and cheerless. But within the farmer's kitchen the huge logs burned brightly, and the Christmas holidays were at hand with the accustomed merrymakings, to cheer the hearts of all in the depths of the dreary winter.
But before Christmas Day arrived, the children enjoyed a great treat on St. Nicholas' Day, December 6th, when it was the custom for parents to convey secretly presents of various kinds to their little sons and daughters, who were taught to believe that they owed them to the kindness of St. Nicholas, who, going up and down among the towns and villages, came in at the windows and distributed the gifts. St. Nicholas, who died A.D. 343, threw a purse filled with money into the bedroom of a poor man for the benefit of his three daughters, who were in sore trouble; and this story seems to have originated the custom which has been observed in many countries, and brought much enjoyment to the young folk who received St. Nicholas' bounty.
Before the Reformation there was another very strange custom associated with this day; namely, the election of a boy bishop, who was dressed in episcopal robes, with a mitre on his head, and who actually was allowed to preach in the church. This was done regularly at many of our cathedrals and collegiate churches, and we find records of the custom amongst the archives of Salisbury and many other places; even the service which they used is in existence. The youthful bishop was elected by the choir-boys, and exercised his functions until Holy Innocents' Day. On that day in great state he entered the cathedral surrounded by the other boys, who played the part of prebendaries, and attended by the dean and canons, who on this occasion yielded up their dignity to the youthful prelate and his followers. The collect for Holy Innocents' Day in our Prayer-book formed part of the service. It was a strange ceremony, not unmixed with irreverence, and happily has long been discontinued, being forbidden by Royal proclamation in 1542, and finally abolished by Elizabeth.
In the archives of the ancient town of Bristol there is a book of directions for the Mayor and his brethren, and on St. Nicholas' Day they are ordered to go to the Church of St. Nicholas and join in the festival of the boy bishop, to hear his sermon and receive his blessing. Then they dined together, and waited for the young bishop to come to them, playing the meanwhile at dice, the town clerk being ordered to find the dice, and to receive a penny for every raffle. The bishop was regaled with bread and wine, and preached again to the Mayor and corporation in the evening. I am informed that a curious memorial of this custom existed until recent years in one village at least. An old lady recollected that when she was a child she was allowed to play with her companions in church on St. Nicholas' Day.
But Christmas is approaching, and we must hasten to describe that bright and happy festival. The holiday began on Christmas Eve, and perhaps you have wondered why we hang up mistletoe, and decorate our churches and houses with holly, why our ancestors brought in the Yule-log, and performed many other customs which do not seem to be very closely connected with the celebration of the birthday of our Lord. But we must remember that our forefathers were originally heathen, and at this period of the year they practised several strange customs connected with their Druidical worship, and held great feasts in honour of their gods. When Christian missionaries converted these heathen, they strove to put down some of the old idolatrous practices; but their efforts were in vain, for the people were warmly attached to these old rights and usages. So a compromise was effected: the old Pagan customs were shorn of their idolatry and transferred to our Christian festivals. Cutting the mistletoe was distinctly a rite practised by the Druids, who cut the sacred plant with a golden knife, and sacrificed two white bulls to the sylvan deities whom they thus sought to propitiate. We hang up our bunches of mistletoe now, but we do not attach any superstitious importance to it, nor imagine that any gods of the woods will be influenced by our procedure. The bringing in of the Yule-log was a Norse custom observed in honour of Thor, from whose name we derive our word Thursday or Thor's-day. The mighty log was drawn into the baronial hall with great pomp, while the bards sang their songs of praise and chanted "Welcome Yule."
"Welcome be Thou, heavenly King,
Welcome, born on this morning;
Welcome for whom we shall sing
Welcome, Yule."
Herrick, who delighted so much in singing of
"Maypoles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes—"
then bursts out in joyous strains:
"Come, bring with a noise,
My merry, merry boys,
The Christmas log to the firing;
While my good dame, she
Bids ye all be free
And drink to your heart's desiring.
With the last year's brand
Light the new block, and
For good success in his spending,
On your psaltries play,
That sweet luck may
Come while the log is a-teending."
We can fancy that we see the ceremony, the glad procession of retainers and servants, the lights flaring in all directions: we can hear the shouts and chorus of many voices, the drums beating and flutes and trumpets sounding. The huge hearth receives the mighty log, and the flames and sparks shoot up the gaping chimney.
At Court in olden times Christmas was kept right royally, if we may judge from the extensive menu of the repasts of King Henry III. and his courtiers in the year 1247. He kept his Christmas at Winchester Castle, and the neighbourhood must have been ransacked to furnish supplies for the royal table. The choice dainties were as follows: Boars, with heads entire, well cooked and very succulent, 48; fowls, 1900; partridges, mostly "put in paste," 500; swans, 41; peacocks, 48; hares, 260; eggs, 24,000; 300 gallons of oysters; 300 rabbits, and more if possible; birds of various sorts, as many as could be had; of whitings, "particularly good and heavy," and conger eels the same; a hundred mullets, "fat and very heavy." For bread the king paid £27 10s., at the price of four loaves to the penny. When the king kept his Christmas at York in 1250, the royal treasury must have been very full, for he ordered for the royal banquets 7000 fowls, 1750 partridges, besides immense numbers of boars, swans, pheasants, &c. Of course the king had a very large retinue of vassals and feudal lords to provide for; but the store seems sufficiently vast to supply the wants of an army of faithful, but hungry, subjects. Sometimes, when the king was short of money, there was a considerable reduction in the amount of good things consumed at Christmas.
Our ancestors were very careful to attend the services of the church, which their loving hands had adorned with holly, bay, rosemary, and laurel. They considered it a day of special thanksgiving and rejoicing, as an old poet observed—
"At Christmas be merry and thankful with all,
And feast thy poor neighbours, the great and the small."
The solemn service of Holy Communion was celebrated on Christmas Eve, in mediæval times—the only night in all the year when an evening celebration was allowed. The halls of the knights and barons of ancient days were thrown open to all comers, and open house was kept for a fortnight. Rejoicing at Christmas time seems to have been universal, and it is not for us to judge whether in their mirth they sometimes forgot the reason of true Christmas joy, and thought more of their feasting than of Him who was born on Christmas Day. But by their hearty manner of keeping this annual festival, by the hospitality which the farmers and rich men showed to their labourers and poorer neighbours, they promoted, at any rate, "goodwill amongst men"—old animosities, quarrels, and bitternesses were forgotten, and the hearts of the poor cheered.
In the North of England every farmer gave two feasts, one called "the old folks' night," and the other "the young folks' night." The old Squire used to receive his tenants and neighbours at daybreak, when the black-jacks were passed round, and woe betide the luckless cook who had overslept herself, and had not boiled the Hackin, or large sausage, ere the day dawned, for then she was seized by the arms and made to run round the market-place, or courtyard, until she was ashamed of her laziness.
And now let us enter the hall of some great baron and see how our ancestors kept a merry Christmas. The panelled walls, and stags' horns, and gallery at one end of the great room were hung with holly and mistletoe. The Yule-log blazed upon the hearth, and then entered the vassals, tenants, and servants of the lord to share in the Christmas banquet. Rank and ceremony were laid aside: all were deemed equal, whether lords or barons, serfs or peasants—a custom which arose, doubtless, from the remembrance of Him who on the first Christmas Day, "although He was rich, yet for our sakes became poor."
And now on the huge oaken table were placed the various dishes of the feast—a mighty boar's head, decorated with laurel and rosemary, whose approach was often heralded with trumpets as the king of the feast; then came a peacock, stuffed with spices and sweet herbs, and adorned with its gay feathers, and then followed a goodly company of geese, capons, sirloins of beef, pheasants, mince-pies, and plum-porridge. A carol was often sung when the boar's head was brought in; here is one from the collection of Wynkyn de Worde:
Caput Apri defero
Reddens laudes Domino,
The Boar's Head in hand bring I
With garlands gay and rosemary;
I pray you all sing merrily
Qui estis in convivio.
The Boar's Head, I understand,
Is the chief service in this land;
Look wherever it be fande:
Servile cum cantico.
Be glad, lords, both more and lasse,
For this hath ordained our stewárd
To cheer you all this Christmasse,
The Boar's Head with mustárd.[[18]]
Neither were the ale and wassail-bowl forgotten, and they circulated sometimes too often, I fear, and laid the seeds of gout and other evils, from which other generations suffer. But when the prodigious appetites of the company had been appeased, the maskers and mummers entered the hall and performed strange antics and a curious play, fragments of which have come down to our own time. The youths of the villages of England still come round at Christmas-time and act their mumming-drama, in which "St. George" kills a "Turkish knight," who is raised to life by "Medicine Man," and performs a very important part of the play—passing round the money-box. This is a remnant of the mumming of ancient days, and perhaps of some "mystery" play, of which I told you in a previous chapter.
In Berkshire the characters are represented by "Molly," a stalwart man dressed in a woman's gown, shawl, and bonnet, with a besom in his hand, who strives in his dialogue to imitate a woman's voice; King George, a big burly man dressed as a knight, with a wooden sword and a home-made helmet; a French officer, with a cocked hat and sword; a Doctor, who wears a pig-tail; Jack Vinny, a jester; Happy Jack, a humorous character dressed in tattered garments, and Old Beelzebub, who appears as Father Christmas. In some parts of the royal county the part of King George is taken by an "Africky king," and a Turkish knight instead of the French officer. Very curious are the words of the old play, and very ludicrous the representation when the parts are acted by competent players.
There was also in the baron's hall a great person dressed in a very fantastic garb, who was here, there, and everywhere, directing the mummers, making jokes to amuse the company, and looking after everybody. He was called the "Lord of Misrule." Sometimes his rule was harmless enough, and did good service in directing the revels; but often he was more worthy of his name, and was guilty of all kinds of absurd and mischievous pranks, which did great harm, and were very profane. But these were not part of the Christmas feast, where all was happiness and mirth. Sir Walter Scott says, in his description of the festival—
"England was merry England when
Old Christmas brought his sports again;
A Christmas gambol oft would cheer
A poor man's heart through all the year."
All the old poets sing in praise of the great day which, as Herrick says, "sees December turned to May," and which makes the "chilling winter's morn smile like a field beset with corn." Old carols chant in reverent strains their homage to the infant Saviour: some reflect time-honoured customs and social joys when old age casts aside its solemnity and mingles once more in the light-hearted gaiety of youth, and all unite in chanting the praises of this happy festival. The poet Withers sings—
"Lo! now is come our joyful'st feast!
Let every man be jolly;
Each room with ivy leaves is drest,
And every post with holly.
"Now all our neighbours' chimneys smoke,
And Christmas blocks are burning;
Their ovens they with baked meats choke,
And all their spits are turning.
"Without the door let sorrow lie,
And if, for cold, it has to die,
We'll bury it in Christmas pie,
And evermore be merry."
Thus the happy night was spent; and if, like grave elders, we look down upon these frolics of a younger age, and think ourselves so much wiser and better than our forefathers, we should not forget the benefits which come from open-handed hospitality, goodwill, and simple manners, nor scornfully regard honest merriment and light-hearted gaiety. A light heart is generally not far removed from a holy heart.
Yes, England was merry England then; and although there were plenty of troubles in those days, when plagues decimated whole villages, when wars were frequent, food scarce, and oppression common, yet the Christmas festivities, the varieties of sports and pastimes which each season provided, the homely customs and bonds of union between class and class which these observances strengthened, added brightness to the lives of our simple forefathers, who might otherwise have sunk beneath the burdens of their daily toil. We have seen how many customs and sports, which were at first simple and harmless, degenerated and were abused: we have noticed some of the bad features of these ancient pastimes, such as cruelty to animals and intemperance; and are thankful that there is some improvement manifest in these respects. But it is interesting to witness again in imagination the scenes that once took place in our market-places and on our village greens; and, if it be impossible to restore again the glories of May Day and the brightness of the Christmas feast, we may still find plenty of harmless and innocent recreation, and learn to be merry, and at the same time wise.
