[ENGLISH DOMESTIC FESTIVITIES.]
BY AN ENGLISH CATHOLIC.
Mediæval England was the home of merriment and the scene of all manner of family festivals and athletic rejoicings. Heir to the old Norse traditions of Yule-tide, she preserved the spirit of innocent and manly sport better perhaps than those less hardy and more polished lands of the Mediterranean whose pleasures were mostly such as could be enjoyed from the vantage-point of a balcony, and the soft resting-place of a gilded ottoman. In England, the national pleasures are pleasures of action as well as of sight; and, even in those specially destined to commemorate the glories of an ancient feudal family, the members of the family do not recline in luxurious ease, patronizingly looking on at the feasts provided to do them honor, but mingle with the people, share in their games, and compete for prizes with the rest. This it is that distinguishes English festivities from any other, and stamps them with an individuality which in the sequel has no little political significance. The sister countries share in this attribute of hearty good-fellowship among classes, and indeed what is here said of England may be said interchangeably of Scotland and Ireland.
Still, things are not done in our day in precisely the same lavish and baronial way that was common in Tudor times, and a revival of this generous style of entertainment, though not infrequent, cannot be called other than a rarity. This certainly enhances the interest attaching to one of these social relics of the past; and the great pageant two years ago at S. Paul’s Cathedral, London, in thanksgiving for the recovery of the heir to the throne, was perhaps the most brilliant and successful modern attempt to revive the glories of England’s “golden age”; but yet, in some measure, more individuality attaches to country fêtes than even to such a national event as the “Thanksgiving Procession.”
Then, too, they are so little known beyond the rural neighborhood in which they occur that to us across the ocean they come as fresh revelations of the inner structure—social, political, and domestic—of the great mother country, whose language is now that of the greater half of the civilized world. Such a festival is also rendered still more interesting in our eyes when it takes place in a Catholic family, under Catholic auspices, and is pervaded with the broad spirit of Catholic generosity. The best days of “merrie” were those of “Catholic” England, and the national character, now universally known as the British—i.e., moroseness and gloom of disposition—is wholly a graft of the unhappy Lutheran Rebellion. Unquestionably, the most English domestic festival, the most characteristic, and the aptest to exhibit Englishmen of all ranks and stations in their best aspect, is a “Coming of Age.” This is celebrated on the twenty-first anniversary of the birth of the heir to a large property, and is essentially an outgrowth of the institution of primogeniture.
In the instance of which we speak, the festival took place in a Catholic house, on the estate of the largest land-owner of one of the midland counties of England. There was a large family gathering bidden from all parts of the country; relatives of all denominations met in perfect peace and friendship round the board of the Catholic head of their house; there were clergymen and government clerks, married sisters with large families, old aunts in sufficiently quaint costume, young lawyers, parliamentary men, soldiers and sailors, some with years of service behind them, some with their spurs yet to win; in fact, each generation, from that of “powder and patches” down to that of the nursery of to-day, was impartially and favorably represented. The house, a large, roomy Tudor building, was still too small to accommodate all the guests, and the lodges and even the inns of the neighborhood, had to be put into requisition. When we drove through the park on Tuesday evening, 10th of October, 18—, the first thing that struck us was seeing moving lights in front of the house; and, our carriage being suddenly stopped, we found that the lights were carried by E—— and the servants to prevent our being shipwrecked upon tent-ropes and poles! By that dim light, we discerned the outline of the immense tent run out from the end window of the drawing-room; and, as we looked at the preparations, the work really seemed as if carried on by fairies, so quickly and perfectly was it accomplished. The place was looking lovely; some of the beautiful trees were just touched with the first tints of scarlet and gold, others still fresh and green. At the east end of the Terrace Garden is a very handsome stone balustrade, between the flower-garden and the straight walk leading to the old Hall (a ruined house, once the family mansion, and now standing in the grounds as a picturesque ornament, and also a convenient place for school entertainments, servants’ dances, etc.) “To any prosaic mind,” said a friend of ours, “there is always great amusement in watching work of any kind; and the object for which all was going on gave me such a real interest in it that I do not think any one entered more fully than I did into even the minutest details of preparation.” Lord G——, the owner of the house, and the father of the young recipient of these patriarchal honors, gave Captain W—— carte blanche about many little things, and was so kindly pleased with every endeavor: all the people worked with such eagerness and good-will. Old Philip (a garrulous old carpenter who knows the family history far better than the family itself!) and Captain W—— made fast friends in no time. The entrance tent became in a few days very pretty—lined with scarlet and white, the floor covered with red, marble tables at the sides; and at one end on a table was placed Lord G——’s bust, and a pier-glass behind it, the two corners of the tent at each side being filled with plants of variegated foliage. Just opposite the entrance was hung the large picture of the fête at Fort Henry when Lord G—— came of age (thirty or more years ago); and very quaint indeed are the costumes and most charming the “bonnets” of the “period”; but we were assured by Philip they were all perfect likenesses! There were light chandeliers suspended from the roof, which had a fine effect even in daytime, and sofas were placed round the walls, so that one only felt what a pity it would be when such a pretty entrance hall would be demolished! At one end was the entrance, and the passage to the front door, all filled with flowers. Much fun went on whilst all these things were being placed, and some even said the preparations would be the best part of all.
The hero of the festivities himself arrived a day or two after us. Being in the army, as are most young men of good prospects in England, he had hitherto been away with his regiment, and only obtained leave of absence for this occasion. He seemed delightfully happy, but most naturally, not excitedly; and throughout the whole no one could be more unaffected or unspoilt by being the one object of all these rejoicings. Where many a young man might have shown himself over-elated, he was exactly himself, happy and cheerful, but quiet, calm, and always self-possessed. When all the preparations were finished, nothing could be more beautiful. It is not too much to say that they were princely, yet all was in perfect taste and keeping—nothing of vain show and ostentation, thoroughly refined, and so truly represented by the word which to our mind conveys the highest praise, gentlemanly; above all, everything was arranged for the happiness and rejoicing of others, of high and low, of rich and poor, and nothing overlooked which could gratify the feelings of participants. On each of the different approaches to the house, the banners, placed at different distances on each side of the drives, had a beautiful effect, as well as the larger flags on the house, on the old Hall, on the church-tower; and these brilliant colors were set off by the more varied and almost equally rich tints of the trees. On Monday (the 16th October), the festivities began in earnest. The first act was our all going directly after breakfast up to the old Hall to see the gigantic cask of 21-years-old ale opened, and, as in duty bound, to taste the ale to Charlie’s health. The universal custom in England of brewing a large quantity of the very best ale the year an heir is born, and keeping it untouched until the day he comes of age, when the cask is broached and distributed in prudently moderate quantities to the guests and tenants, is of very ancient origin, and is most religiously adhered to. Another custom is that of planting an oak-tree near the house the year of the heir’s birth, to commemorate the event, and the sapling is always called after its human foster-brother. This tapping the ale was like reading a page out of some memoir of former times, and reminded us of the stories of Sir Walter Scott.
The cavernous cellar in which stand the mysterious casks, the ivy-grown ruin overhead, the brawny men opening the family treasures, and serving as rustic cup-bearers to the guests, all made a thorough old-time picture. Some of the party, after this ceremony was over, left us to go to the first village feast, the prototype—a description of which will equally fit all the others. There are seven villages on the estates, and each felt itself entitled to a separate local entertainment. Ridlington, which supplies the family with one of its many titles, was the first to experience its lord’s hospitality.
The feast consisted of an abundant supply of meat, ale, and cakes for men, women, and children alike, with games on the village green, races for simple prizes, such as articles of useful clothing, etc. The greased pole formed the chief attraction for the men and boys, and of course was productive of the greatest merriment, through the harmless accidents to which it inevitably exposes the candidates for the honors of successful climbing. During the repast, speeches were freely made and healths proposed, every one much alike, but all interesting, through the hearty reciprocity of feeling evinced between landlord and tenant. Returning home, the host and his daughters prepared to receive their unexpected guests, the greater number of whom were to assemble that evening. Our “prosaic-minded” friend here interposed a characteristic comment, in these words: “When the influx of guests took place about six o’clock that same evening, you may conceive the feelings of the ‘family aunt’ descending the stairs before dinner, as if one of the pictures had stepped out of its frame to mix in such a crowd of strangers, for such are almost all to me!” As the drawing-rooms were dismantled in preparation for the ball, there was only the oak corridor to sit in, and it must be confessed it required some tact to find seats; whilst, of course, all the men crowded together, English fashion, under the staircase! Capt. W—— acquired the name of “master of the ceremonies,” as he and E—— (one of our young hostesses) drew up the order of march to dinner, and he was deputed to tell every one who to take—rather puzzling in an assemblage scarcely one of whom he had ever seen before. The “weighty” matter of English precedence in such a company is more important than any one would suppose; and we cannot wonder that such social punctiliousness should raise a smile among people of simpler though not less generous habits.