In 1887, we received a letter from Mr. W. M. Stanton, of Nelson, New Zealand, giving the following interesting account of the colonists' observance of Christmas:—
"And now, as to Christmas, I wish I could express all I feel on this peculiarly English season of 'peace and goodwill.' I remember the picturesque snow (seen here only on the distant blue mountain tops), the icy stalactites pendant from the leafless branches, the twitter of the robin redbreast, the holly, and the mistletoe, decorated homes, redolent with the effects of the festive cooking, and the warm blazing firelight, the meeting of families and of friends, the waits, the grand old peals from the belfries; but, alas, here these childhood associations are dispelled, half broken, and we acclimatised denizens adapt our festivities to other modes—not that we forget the Christmas season, but enjoy it differently, as I will briefly tell you, as you ask, 'how we spend Christmas in New Zealand.' First, our ladies decorate the churches for the Christmas services, not with the evergreens of old exclusively; they do indeed affect the holly, ivy, and (New Zealand) mistletoe, but they make up with umbrageous and rich ferns, lachipoden, lauristinas, Portugal laurels, and our own beautiful evergreen, Ngaio, and with all the midsummer flowers at command; then the clerk, the storeman, the merchant, and the mechanic indulge in 'trips,' or day excursions, in small steamboats, to the neighbouring bays surrounding small townships, and villages on the coast. Others again, take the train for a day's outing and play quoits, rounders, lawn tennis, and the like; the sportsman, perhaps, preferring his gun and his dog; families, again, are picnic-mad, for your colonist can rival the Cockney any day for making his holiday in the country. It may be to 'the rocks' he goes to watch his youngsters paddling in the rolling tide, or to the toil of clambering up the 'dim mountain,' which seems to suit their hardy lungs better than the shade of the 'fern glen,' and a journey of eighteen miles to the Maori Pa is as nothing. The Union Company's fine coasting steamships run passengers at half fares at this season, and the result is an interchange of visits between the dwellers in Nelson, Wellington, Marlboro', and Wanjani, amongst whom there is much rivalry and more friendship. Then there is the Christmas regatta, the performance of the 'Messiah' by the musical societies, and the inevitable evening dances, and thus the New Zealand Christmas is spent.
"I am reminded, by my young clerk, that the mail is about closing, and that this letter must also close, if it is to go to-day, and thus I must omit the mention of the new year's festivities, which properly belong to our numerous Scottish fellow settlers who in their own country ignore Christmas as a popish superstition; they are, however, now becoming anglicised ('Englified' they call it) in their habits, and similarly the Midland county men of England enter into their Caledonian custom, from the harmless orgies of 'Hagmenae' to the frantic capers of 'Gillie Cullum,' to the skirl of the panting piper."
Christmas at the Sandwich Islands.
In "A Voyage in the Sunbeam," Lady Brassey gives an interesting account of the keeping of Christmas, 1876, on the Sandwich Islands. We quote the following extracts:—
"Twenty minutes' hard riding brought us to the door of the 'Volcano House,' from which issued the comforting light of a large wood fire, reaching half way up the chimney.
"Everything at this inn is most comfortable, though the style is rough and ready. The interior is just now decorated for Christmas, with wreaths, and evergreens, and ferns, and branches of white plumes, not unlike reva-reva, made from the path of the silver grass.
"The grandeur of the view in the direction of the volcano increased as the evening wore on. The fiery cloud above the present crater grew in size and depth of colour; the extinct crater glowed red in thirty or forty different places; and clouds of white vapour issued from every crack and crevice in the ground, adding to the sulphurous smell with which the atmosphere was laden. Our room faced the volcano: there were no blinds, and I drew back the curtains and lay watching the splendid scene until I fell asleep.
"Sunday, December 24th (Christmas Eve)—I was up at four o'clock to gaze once more on the wondrous spectacle that lay before me. The molten lava still glowed in many places, the red cloud over the fiery lake was bright as ever, and steam was slowly ascending in every direction over hill and valley, till, as the sun rose, it became difficult to distinguish clearly the sulphurous vapours from the morning mists. We walked down to the Sulphur Banks, about a quarter of a mile from the 'Volcano House,' and burnt our gloves and boots in our endeavours to procure crystals, the beauty of which generally disappeared after a very short exposure to the air. We succeeded, however, in finding a few good specimens, and, by wrapping them at once in paper and cotton-wool and putting them into a bottle, hope to bring them home uninjured.
"Monday, December 25th (Christmas Day)—Turning in last night was the work of a very few minutes, and this morning I awoke perfectly refreshed and ready to appreciate anew the wonders of the prospect that met my eyes. The pillar of fire was still distinctly visible, when I looked out from my window, though it was not so bright as when I had last seen it, but even as I looked it began to fade and gradually disappeared. At the same moment a river of glowing lava issued from the side of the bank we had climbed with so much difficulty yesterday, and slowly but surely overflowed the ground we had walked over. You may imagine the feelings with which we gazed upon this startling phenomenon, which had it occurred a few hours earlier, might have caused the destruction of the whole party.