[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CHRISTMAS PLUM-PUDDING.

(_From an old print._)]

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 subst.i.tute) in? Come out of Babylon, O my friend."

[Ill.u.s.tration: ITALIAN MINSTRELS IN LONDON, AT CHRISTMAS, 1825.

(_From a sketch of that period._)]

"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]

THE CHRISTMAS GAMES

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 la.s.sie). 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 c.o.c.kles_, _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:--

[Ill.u.s.tration]

SNAP DRAGON.

"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 s.n.a.t.c.hing 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 s.n.a.t.c.hed 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 compet.i.tors for the raisins in the flaming bowl.

BLINDMAN'S BUFF.

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 compa.s.s 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."

[Ill.u.s.tration: BLINDMAN'S BUFF.

(_In the last century_.)]

THE CHRISTMAS DANCE.

"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 la.s.ses 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 mediaeval age when (according to William of Malmesbury) the priest Rathbertus, being disturbed at his Christmas ma.s.s by young men and women dancing outside the church, prayed G.o.d and St. Magnus that they might continue to dance for a whole year without cessation--a prayer which the old chronicler gravely a.s.sures us was answered.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CHRISTMAS DANCE.]

CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE OLDEN TIME.

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 ma.s.s 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 va.s.sal, 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 ma.s.sive board No mark to part the squire and lord.

Then was brought in the l.u.s.ty 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 wa.s.sail 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 s.m.u.tted 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.

Lyson's "Magna Britannia" (1813) states the following as an

OLD ENGLISH CUSTOM.

"At c.u.mnor the parishioners, who paid vicarial t.i.thes, claimed a custom of being entertained at the vicarage on the afternoon of Christmas Day, with four bushels of malt brewed into ale and beer, two bushels of wheat made into bread, and half a hundred weight of cheese.

The remainder was given to the poor the next morning after divine service."

Mason ("Statistical Account of Ireland," 1814) records the following

IRISH CHRISTMAS CUSTOMS:--

"At Culdaff, previous to Christmas, it is customary with the labouring cla.s.ses to raffle for mutton, when a sufficient number can subscribe to defray the cost of a sheep. During the Christmas holidays they amuse themselves with a game of kamman, which consists in impelling a wooden ball with a crooked stick to a given point, while an adversary endeavours to drive it in a contrary direction."

YORKSHIRE.