The mistletoe is still hung up in farm-houses and kitchens at Christmas;
and the young men have the privilege of kissing the girls under it,
plucking each time a berry from the bush. When the berries are all
plucked, the privilege ceases.
The Yule-clog is a great log of wood, sometimes the root of a tree,
brought into the house with great ceremony, on Christmas eve, laid in
the fireplace, and lighted with the brand of last year's clog. While it
lasted there was great drinking, singing, and telling of tales.
Sometimes it was accompanied by Christmas candles, but in the cottages
the only light was from the ruddy blaze of the great wood fire. The
Yule-clog was to burn all night; if it went out, it was considered a
sign of ill luck.
Herrick mentions it in one of his songs:—
|"Come, bring with a noise|
|My merrie, merrie boyes,|
|The Christmas log to the firing:|
|While my good dame, she|
|Bids ye all be free,|
|And drink to your hearts' desiring."|
The Yule-clog is still burnt in many farm-houses and kitchens in
England, particularly in the north, and there are several superstitions
connected with it among the peasantry. If a squinting person come to the
house while it is burning, or a person barefooted, it is considered an
ill omen. The brand remaining from the Yule-clog is carefully put away
to light the next year's Christmas fire.
From the "Flying Eagle," a small Gazette, published December 24,
1652:—"The House spent much time this day about the business of the
Navy, for settling the affairs at sea; and before they rose, were
presented with a terrible remonstrance against Christmas day, grounded
upon divine Scriptures, 2 Cor. v. 16; 1 Cor. xv. 14, 17; and in honour
of the Lord's Day, grounded upon these Scriptures, John xx. 1; Rev. i.
10; Psalm cxviii. 24; Lev. xxiii. 7, 11; Mark xvi. 8; Psalm lxxxiv. 10,
in which Christmas is called Anti-Christ's masse, and those Mass-mongers
and Papists who observe it, etc. In consequence of which Parliament
spent some time in consultation about the abolition of Christmas day,
passed orders to that effect, and resolved to sit on the following day,
which was commonly called Christmas day."
"An English gentleman at the opening of the great day, i.e. on
Christmas day in the morning, had all his tenants and neighbours enter
his hall by daybreak. The strong beer was broached, and the black jacks
went plentifully about with toast, sugar, nutmeg, and good Cheshire
cheese. The hackin (the great sausage) must be boiled by daybreak, or
else two young men must take the maiden (i.e. the cook) by the arms
and run her round the marketplace till she is shamed of her
laziness."—Round about our Sea-Coal Fire.
The old ceremony of serving up the boar's head on Christmas day is still
observed in the hall of Queen's College, Oxford. I was favoured by the
parson with a copy of the carol as now sung, and as it may be acceptable
to such of my readers as are curious in these grave and learned matters,
I give it entire.
|"The boar's head in hand bear I,|
|Bedeck'd with bays and rosemary;|
|And I pray you, my masters, be merry,|
|Quot estis in convivio.|
|Caput apri defero|
|Reddens laudes Domino.|
The boar's head, as I understand,
|Is the rarest dish in all this land,|
|Which thus bedeck'd with a gay garland|
|Let us servire cantico.|
|Caput apri defero, etc.|
Our steward hath provided this
|In honour of the King of Bliss,|
|Which on this day to be served is|
|In Reginensi Atrio.|
|Caput apri defero,"|
|Etc. etc. etc.|
The peacock was anciently in great demand for stately entertainments.
Sometimes it was made into a pie, at one end of which the head appeared
above the crust in all its plumage, with the beak richly gilt; at the
other end the tail was displayed. Such pies were served up at the solemn
banquets of chivalry, when Knights-errant pledged themselves to
undertake any perilous enterprise; whence came the ancient oath, used by
Justice Shallow, "by cock and pie."
The peacock was also an important dish for the Christmas feast; and
Massinger, in his City Madam, gives some idea of the extravagance with
which this, as well as other dishes, was prepared for the gorgeous
revels of the olden times:—
|"Men may talk of country Christmasses,|
|Their thirty pound butter'd eggs, their pies of carps' tongues:|
|Their pheasants drench'd with ambergris; the carcases of three fat wethers bruised for gravy, to make sauce for a single peacock!"|
The Wassail Bowl was sometimes composed of ale instead of wine; with
nutmeg, sugar, toast, ginger, and roasted crabs; in this way the
nut-brown beverage is still prepared in some old families, and round the
hearths of substantial farmers at Christmas. It is also called Lambs'
Wool, and is celebrated by Herrick in his "Twelfth Night:"—
|"Next crowne the bowle full|
|With gentle Lambs' Wool,|
|Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,|
|With store of ale too;|
|And thus ye must doe|
|To make the Wassaile a swinger."|
"The custom of drinking out of the same cup gave place to each having
his cup. When the steward came to the doore with the Wassel, he was to
cry three times, Wassel, Wassel, Wassel, and then the chappel
(chaplain) was to answer with a song."—Archæologia.
"At Christmasse there was in the Kinge's house, wheresoever hee was
lodged, a lorde of misrule, or mayster of merry disportes; and the like
had ye in the house of every nobleman of honor, or good worshippe, were
he spirituall or temporall."—Stow.
Maskings or mummeries were favourite sports at Christmas in old times;
and the wardrobes at halls and manor-houses were often laid under
contribution to furnish dresses and fantastic disguisings. I strongly
suspect Master Simon to have taken the idea of his from Ben Jonson's
Masque of Christmas.
Sir John Hawkins, speaking of the dance called the Pavon, from pavo, a
peacock, says, "It is a grave and majestic dance; the method of dancing
it anciently was by gentlemen dressed with caps and swords, by those of
the long robe in their gowns, by the peers in their mantles, and by the
ladies in gowns with long trains, the motion whereof, in dancing,
resembled that of a peacock."—History of Music.
Printed by R. & R. Clark, Edinburgh.
The Stage Coach