In The Yule-Log Glow Volume Iii Part 9

This time so holy counted is, that divers earnestly Do think the waters all to wine are changed suddenly In that same hour that Christ himself was born and came to light, And unto water straight again transformed and altered quite.

There are beside that mindfully the money still do watch That first to altar comes, which then they privily do s.n.a.t.c.h.

The priests, lest other should it have, take oft the same away, Whereby they think throughout the year to have good luck in play, And not to lose: then straight at game till daylight do they strive To make some present proof how well their hallowed pence will thrive.

This done, a wooden child in clouts is on the altar set, About the which both boys and girls do dance and trimly get, And carols sing in praise of Christ, and for to help them here, The organs answer every verse with sweet and solemn cheer.

The priests do roar aloud, and round about the parents stand, To see the sport, and with their voice do help them and their hand.

Thus wont the Coribants perhaps upon the mountain Ide, The crying noise of Jupiter, new born, with song to hide, To dance about him round, and on their brazen pans to beat, Lest that his father, finding him, should him destroy and eat.

Then followeth Saint Stephen's Day, whereon doth every man His horses jaunt and course abroad, as swiftly as he can.

Until they do extremely sweat, and then they let them blood, For this being done upon this day, they say doth do them good, And keeps them from all maladies and sickness through the year, As if that Stephen any time took charge of horses here.

Next, John, the son of Zebedee, hath his appointed day, Who once, by cruel tyrant's will, constrained was, they say, Strong poison up to drink, therefore the Papists do believe That whoso puts their trust in him, no poison them can grieve.

The wine beside that hallowed is, in wors.h.i.+p of his name, The priests do give the people that bring money for the same.

And after with the selfsame wine are little manchets[F] made, Against the boisterous winter storms, and sundry such like trade.

The men upon this solemn day do take this holy wine, To make them strong, so do the maids to make them fair and fine.

Then comes the day that calls to mind the cruel Herod's strife, Who seeking Christ to kill, the King of everlasting life, Destroyed all the infants young, a beast unmerciless, And put to death all such as were of two years age or less.

To them the sinful wretches cry and earnestly do pray To get them pardon for their faults, and wipe their sins away.

The parents, when this day appears, do beat their children all Though nothing they deserve, and servants all to beating fall, And monks do whip each other well, or else their Prior great, Or Abbot mad, doth take in hand their breeches all to beat In wors.h.i.+p of these Innocents, or rather, as we see, In honor of the cursed king that did this cruelty.

The next to this is New-Year's Day, whereon to every friend They costly presents in do bring and New-Year's gifts do send.

These gifts the husband gives his wife, and father eke the child, And master on his men bestows the like, with favor mild, And good beginning of the year they wish and wish again, According to the ancient guise of heathen people vain.

These eight days no man doth require his debts of any man, Their tables do they furnish out with all the meat they can: With marchpanes, tarts, and custards great they drink with staring eyes, They rout and revel, feed and feast as merry all as pies, As if they should at the entrance of this New Year have to die, Yet would they have their bellies full and ancient friends ally.

The Wise Men's day here followeth, who out from Persia far, Brought gifts and presents unto Christ, conducted by a star.

The Papists do believe that these were kings, and so them call, And do affirm that of the same there were but three in all.

Here sundry friends together come, and meet in company, And make a king amongst themselves by voice or destiny; Who, after princely guise, appoints his officers alway, Then unto feasting do they go, and long time after play: Upon their boards, in order thick, their dainty dishes stand, Till that their purses empty be and creditors at hand.

Their children herein follow them, and choosing princes here, With pomp and great solemnity, they meet and make good cheer With money either got by stealth, or of their parents eft, That so they may be trained to know both riot here and theft.

Then, also, every householder, to his ability, Doth make a mighty cake that may suffice his company: Herein a penny doth he put, before it comes to fire, This he divides according as his household doth require; And every piece distributeth, as round about they stand, Which in their names unto the poor is given out of hand.

But whoso chanceth on the piece wherein the money lies Is counted king amongst them all, and is with shouts and cries Exalted to the heavens up, who, taking chalk in hand, Doth make a cross on every beam and rafters as they stand: Great force and power have these against all injuries and harms, Of cursed devils, sprites and bugs, of conjurings and charms, So much this king can do, so much the crosses bring to pa.s.s, Made by some servant, maid or child, or by some foolish a.s.s!

Twice six nights then from Christmas they do count with diligence, Wherein each master in his house doth burn up frankincense: And on the table sets a loaf, when night approacheth near, Before the coals and frankincense to be perfumed there: First bowing down his head he stands, and nose, and ears, and eyes He smokes, and with his mouth receives the fume that doth arise; Whom followeth straight his wife, and doth the same full solemnly, And of their children every one, and all their family: Which doth preserve, they say, their teeth, and nose, and eyes, and ear From every kind of malady and sickness all the year.

When every one received hath this odor great and small, Then one takes up the pan with coals, and frankincense and all.

Another takes the loaf, whom all the rest do follow here, And round about the house they go, with torch or taper clear, That neither bread nor meat do want; nor witch with dreadful charm Have power to hurt their children, or to do their cattle harm.

There are that three nights only do perform this foolish gear, To this intent, and think themselves in safety all the year.

To Christ dare none commit himself. And in these days beside They judge what weather all the year shall happen and betide: Ascribing to each day a month, and at this present time The youth in every place do flock, and all apparelled fine, With pipers through the streets they run, and sing at every door In commendation of the man, rewarded well therefore, Which on themselves they do bestow, or on the church as though The people were not plagued with rogues and begging friars enow.

There cities are where boys and girls together still do run About the streets with like as soon as night begins to come, And bring abroad their wa.s.sail-bowls, who well rewarded be With cakes, and cheese, and great good cheer, and money plenteously.

_From the German of Thos. Kirchmaier, A.D. 1553._

FOOTNOTE:

[F] White bread.

A PLEA FOR A PRESENT.

Father John Burges, Necessity urges My woeful cry To Sir Robert Pie: And that he will venture To send my debenture.

Tell him his Ben Knew the time when He loved the Muses; Though now he refuses To take apprehension Of a year's pension, And more is behind; Put him in mind Christmas is near, And neither good cheer, Mirth, fooling, nor wit, Nor any least fit Of gambol or sport Will come to the court If there be no money, No plover or cony Will come to the table, Or wine to enable The muse, or the poet, The parish will know it Nor any quick warming-pan help him to bed; If the 'Chequer be empty, so will be his head.

_Ben Jonson._

A NEW-YEAR'S GIFT SENT TO SIR SIMEON STEWARD.

No news of navies burnt at sea, No noise of late-sp.a.w.ned t.i.tyries, No closet plot or open vent That frights men with a Parliament: No new device or late-found trick, To read by the stars the kingdom's sick; No gin to catch the State, or wring The free-born nostrils of the king, We send to you, but here a jolly Verse crowned with ivy and with holly; That tells of winter's tales and mirth That milkmaids make about the hearth, Of Christmas sports, the wa.s.sail-bowl, That's tost up after fox-i'-th'-hole; Of Blindman-buff, and of the care That young men have to shoe the mare; Of Twelve-tide cake, of peas and beans, Wherewith ye make those merry scenes, When as ye choose your king and queen, And cry out: Hey, for our town green!

Of ash-heaps, in the which ye use Husbands and wives by streaks to choose; Of crackling laurel, which foresounds A plenteous harvest to your grounds; Of these and such like things, for s.h.i.+ft, We send instead of New-Year's gift: Read then, and when your faces s.h.i.+ne With buxom meat and cap'ring wine, Remember us in cups full-crowned, And let our city-health go round, Quite through the young maids and the men To the ninth number, if not ten; Until the fired chestnuts leap For joy to see the fruits ye reap From the plump chalice and the cup That tempts till it be tossed up.

Then, as ye sit about your embers, Call not to mind those fled Decembers; But think on these that are to appear As daughters to the instant year; Sit crowned with rose-buds, and carouse, Till _Liber Pater_ twirls the house About your ears; and lay upon The year, your cares, that's fled and gone.

And let the russet swains the plough And harrow hang up resting now; And to the bagpipe all address Till sleep takes place of weariness; And thus, throughout, with Christmas plays Frolic the full twelve holydays.

_Robert Herrick._

THE NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.

Let others look for pearl and gold Tissues, or tabbies manifold; One only lock of that sweet hay Whereon the Blessed Baby lay, Or one poor swaddling-clout, shall be The richest New-Year's gift to me.

_Robert Herrick._

AN INVITATION TO THE REVEL.

Come follow, follow me, Those that good fellows be, Into the b.u.t.tery Our manhood for to try; The master keeps a bounteous house, And gives leave freely to carouse.

Then wherefore should we fear, Seeing here is store of cheer?

It shows but cowardice At this time to be nice.

Then boldly draw your blades and fight, For we shall have a merry night.

When we have done this fray, Then we will go to play At cards or else at dice, And be rich in a trice; Then let the knaves go round apace, I hope each time to have an ace.

Come, maids, let's want no beer After our Christmas cheer, And I will duly crave Good husbands you may have, And that you may good houses keep, When we may drink carouses deep.

And when that's spent the day We'll Christmas gambols play, At hot c.o.c.kles beside And then go to all-hide, With many other pretty toys, Men, women, youths, maids, girls, and boys.

Come, let's dance round the hall, And let's for liquor call; Put apples in the fire, Sweet maids, I you desire; And let a bowl be spiced well Of happy stuff that doth excel.

Twelve days we now have spent In mirth and merriment, And daintily did fare, For which we took no care: But now I sadly call to mind What days of sorrow are behind.