January 7.

Epiphany.{Close holiday at all Public officesexcept Stamp, Customs, and Excise.

Epiphany.{

Close holiday at all Public officesexcept Stamp, Customs, and Excise.

St. Melanius.St. Peter.St. Nilammon.

St. Peterwas a disciple of Gregory the Great, the first abbot of St. Augustine’s monastery at Canterbury, and drowned in 608 while proceeding on a voyage to France. According to Cressy, the inhabitants buried his body without knowing any thing about him, till “a heavenly light appeared every night over his sepulture,” when they held an inquest, and a count Fumert buried him in the church of Boulogne. From a quotation in Patrick, it appears that a weasel who gnawed his robe was found dead upon it for his sauciness.

The Rev Thomas Dudley Fosbroke, M. A. F. A. S., &c. whose “Encyclopædia of Antiquities” has been already cited from, is the author of “British Monachism, or, Manners and Customs of the Monks and Nuns of England,” 4to. 1817; a most erudite work, wherein he gives an account, from Du Cange, of theFeast of the Star, orOffice of the Three Kings, a catholic service performed on this day. “Three priests, clothed as kings, with their servants carrying offerings, met from different directions of the church before the altar. The middle one, who came from the east, pointed with his staff to a star: a dialogue then ensued; and after kissing each other, they began to sing, ‘Let us go and inquire;’ after which the precentor began a responsory, ‘Let the Magi come.’ A procession then commenced, and as soon as it began to enter the nave, a crown like a star, hanging before the cross, was lighted up, and pointed out to the Magi, with ‘Behold the star in the east.’ This being concluded, two priests, standing at each side of the altar, answered, meekly, ‘We are those whom you seek,’ and drawing a curtain showed them a child, whom, falling down, they worshipped. Then the servants made the offerings of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, which were divided among the priests. The Magi in the mean while continued praying till they dropped asleep; when a boy clothed in an alb, like an angel, addressed them with, ‘All things which the prophets said are fulfilled.’ The festival concluded with chanting services, &c.”

Mr. Fosbroke adds, that at Soissons a rope was let down from the roof of the church, to which was annexed an iron circle, having seven tapers, intended to represent Lucifer, or the morningstar.

The three persons honoured by this service, and called kings, were the three wise men who, in catholic works, are usually denominated theThree Kings of Cologne. Cressy tells us, that the empress Helena, who died about the year 328, brought their bodies from the east to Constantinople; from whence they were transferred to Milan, and afterwards, in 1164, on Milan being taken by the emperor Frederick, presented by him to the archbishop of Cologne, who put them in the principal church of that city, “in which place,” says Cressy, “they are to this day celebrated with great veneration.” Patrick quotes a prayer to them from the Romish service, beginning “O, king Jaspar, king Melchior, king Balthasar;” and he says that the Salisbury Missal states their offerings to have been disposed of in this way:—“Joseph kept of the gold as much as him needed, to pay his tribute to the emperor, and also to keep our lady with while she lay in childbed, and the rest he gave to the poor. The incense he burnt to take off the stench of the stable there as she lay in; and with the myrrh, our lady anointed her child, to keep him from worms and disease.” Patrick makes several observations on the service to these three kings of Cologne, and as to the credibility of their story; and he inquires what good this prayer will do to Jaspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, when another tradition says their names were Apellius, Amerus, and Damascus; a third, that they were Magalath, Galgalath, and Sarasin; and a fourth, Ator, Sator, and Peratoras; which last, Patrick says, he should choose in this uncertainty to call them by, as having the more kingly sound, if it had not been that Casaubon represents these three, “together with Misael, Achael, Cyriacus, and Stephanus, (the names of the four shepherds that came to visit our Lord in Bethlehem,) had been used (and he tells how) for a charm to cure the biting of serpents and other venomous beasts.” Patrick gives other prayers to these three kings, one of them from the “Hours of the Virgin,” and also quotes this miraculous anecdote; that one John Aprilius, when he was hanged, implored the patronage of the three kings of Cologne; the consequence of which seems to have been, that after he had been hung three days and was cut down, he was found alive; whereupon he came to Cologne half naked, with his halter about his neck, and returned thanks to his deliverers.

TWELFTH-DAY.

Such are the scenes, that, at the front and sideOf the Twelfth-cake-shops, scatter wild dismay;As up the slipp’ry curb, or pavement wide,We seek the pastrycooks, to keep Twelfth-day;While ladies stand aghast, in speechless trance,Look round—dare not go back—and yet dare not advance.

In London, with every pastrycook in the city, and at the west end of the town, it is “high change” on Twelfth-day. From the taking down of the shutters in the morning, he, and his men, with additional assistants, male and female, are fully occupied by attending to the dressing out of the window, executing orders of the day before, receiving fresh ones, or supplying the wants of chance customers. Before dusk the important arrangement of the window is completed. Then the gas is turned on, with supernumerary argand-lamps and manifold wax-lights, to illuminate countless cakes of all prices and dimensions, that stand in rows and piles on the counters and sideboards, and in the windows. The richest in flavour and heaviest in weight and price are placed on large and massy salvers; one, enormously superior to the rest in size, is the chief object of curiosity; and all are decorated with all imaginable images of things animate and inanimate. Stars, castles, kings, cottages, dragons, trees, fish, palaces, cats, dogs, churches, lions, milkmaids, knights, serpents, and innumerable other forms in snow-white confectionary,painted with variegated colours, glitter by “excess of light” from mirrors against the walls festooned with artificial “wonders of Flora.” This “paradise of dainty devices,” is crowded by successive and successful desirers of the seasonable delicacies, while alternate tapping of hammers and peals of laughter, from the throng surrounding the house, excite smiles from the inmates.

The cause of these sounds may be inferred from something like this passing outside.

Constable.Make way, make way! Clear the way! Youboysstand aside!

Countryman.Whatisallthis; Is any bodyillin the shop?

1st Boy.Nobody, sir; it’sonlyTwelfth day!

2d Boy.This is apastrycook’s, sir; look at the window!Therethey stand!Whatcakes!

3d Boy.What pretty onestheseare!

4th Boy.Only seethat!

5th Boy.Why it’s aslargeas the hind-wheel of a coach, and howthick!

6th Boy.Ah! it’s too big to come out at the door, unless theyrollit out.

7th Boy.Whatelegantfigures, and whatlotsof sweetmeats!

8th Boy.See theflowers; they look almost likerealones.

Countryman.What a crowdinside!

9th Boy.How the people of the housearepacking upallthe good things!

Countryman.What abeautifullady thatisbehind the counter!

10th Boy.Which?

Countryman.Why theyoungone!

10th Boy.Whather? oh,she’sthe pastrycook’s daughter, and the other’s her mother.

Countryman.No, no; nother; I meanher, there.

10th Boy.Oh,her;she’sthe shopwoman;allthe pastrycooks always try to gethandsome ladiesto serve in the shop!

11th Boy.I say, I say! halloo! here’s a piece of work! Look atthisgentleman—next to me—his coat-tail’s nailed to the window! Look,look!

Countryman.Aye, what?

All the boys.Ah! ah! ah! Huzza.

Countryman.Who nailedmycoat-tail? Constable!

12th Boy.That’s the boy that’s gotthe hammer!

2d Boy.What,me?whythat’sthe boy—there; and there’sanotherboy hammering! and there’s amanwith a hammer!

1st Boy.Who pinned thatwomanto the gentleman? Why there’s adozenpinned together.

Countryman.Constable! constable!

2nd Boy.Here comes the constable.Harkat him!

Const.Clear away from the doors! Let thecustomersgo in! Make way! Let thecakescome out! Go back, boy!

13th Boy.If you please, Mr. Constable, I’m going to buy a cake!

Const.Goforward, then!

Man with cakes.By your leave! by your leave.

Const.Clear the way!

All the Boys.Huzza! huzza!Morepeople pinned—andplentynailed up!——

To explain, to those who may be ignorant of the practice. On Twelfth-night in London, boys assemble round the inviting shops of the pastrycooks, and dexterously nail the coat-tails of spectators, who venture near enough, to the bottoms of the window frames; or pin them together strongly by their clothes. Sometimes eight or ten persons find themselves thus connected. The dexterity and force of the nail driving is so quick and sure, that a single blow seldom fails of doing the business effectually. Withdrawal of the nail without a proper instrument is out of the question; and, consequently, the person nailed must either leave part of his coat, as a cognizance of his attachment, or quit the spot with a hole in it. At every nailing and pinning shouts of laughter arise from the perpetrators and the spectators. Yet it often happens to one who turns and smiles at the duress of another, that he also finds himself nailed. Efforts at extrication increase mirth, nor is the presence of a constable, who is usually employed to attend and preserve free “ingress, egress, and regress,” sufficiently awful to deter the offenders.

Scarcely a shop in London that offers a halfpenny plain bun to the purchase of a hungry boy, is without Twelfth-cakes and finery in the windows on Twelfth-day, The gingerbread-bakers—there are not many, compared with their number when the writer was a consumer of their manufacturedgoods,—even the reduced gingerbread-bakers periwig a few plum-buns with sugar-frost to-day, and coaxingly interpolate them among their new madesixes, bath-cakes, parliament, and ladies’ fingers. Their staple-ware has leaves of untarnished dutch-gilt stuck on; their upright cylinder-shaped show-glasses, containing peppermint-drops, elecampane, sugar-sticks, hard-bake, brandy-balls, and bulls’-eyes, are carefully polished; their lolly-pops are fresh encased, and look as white as the stems of tobacco-pipes; and their candlesticks are ornamented with fillets and bosses of writing paper; or, if the candles rise from the bottom of inverted glass cones, they shine more sparkling for the thorough cleaning of their receivers in the morning.

How toeatTwelfth-cake requires no recipe; but how to provide it, and draw the characters, on the authority of Rachel Revel’s “Winter Evening Pastimes,” may be acceptable. First, buy your cake. Then, before your visitors arrive, buy your characters, each of which should have a pleasant verse beneath. Next look at your invitation list, and count the number of ladies you expect; and afterwards the number of gentlemen. Then, take as many female characters as you have invited ladies; fold them up, exactly of the same size, and number each on the back; taking care to make the king No. 1, and the queen No. 2. Then prepare and number the gentlemen’s characters. Cause tea and coffee to be handed to your visitors as they drop in. When all are assembled and tea over, put as many ladies’ characters in a reticule as there are ladies present; next put the gentlemen’s characters in a hat. Then call on a gentleman to carry the reticule to the ladies as they sit, from which each lady is to draw one ticket, and to preserve it unopened. Select a lady to bear the hat to the gentlemen for the same purpose. There will be one ticket left in the reticule, and another in the hat, which the lady and gentleman who carried each is to interchange, as having fallen to each. Next, arrange your visitors according to their numbers; the king No. 1, the queen No. 2, and so on. The king is then to recite the verse on his ticket; then the queen the verse on hers; and so the characters are to proceed in numerical order. This done, let the cake and refreshments go round, and hey! for merriment!

They come! they come! each blue-eyed sport,The Twelfth-night king and all his court—’Tis Mirth fresh crown’d with mistletoe!Music with her merry fiddles,Joy “on light fantastic toe,”Wit with all his jests and riddles,Singing and dancing as they go.And Love, young Love, among the rest,A welcome—nor unbidden guest.

Twelfth-day is now only commemorated by the custom of choosing king and queen. “I went,” says a correspondent in the Universal Magazine for 1774, “to a friend’s house in the country to partake of some of those innocent pleasures that constitute a merry Christmas. I did not return till I had been present at drawing king and queen, and eaten a slice of the Twelfth-cake, made by the fair hands of my good friend’s consort. After tea yesterday, a noble cake was produced, and two bowls, containing the fortunate chances for the different sexes. Our host filled up the tickets; the whole company, except the king and queen, were to be ministers of state, maids of honour, or ladies of the bed-chamber. Our kind host and hostess, whether by design or accident, became king and queen. According to Twelfth-day law, each party is to support their character till midnight.” The maintenance of character is essential to the drawing. Within the personal observation of the writer of these sheets, character has never been preserved. It must be admitted, however, that the Twelfth-night characters sold by the pastrycooks, are either commonplace or gross—when genteel they are inane; when humorous, they are vulgar.

Young folks anticipate Twelfth-night as a full source of innocent glee to their light little hearts. Where, and what is he who would negative hopes of happiness for a few short hours in the day-spring of life? A gentle spirit in the London Magazine beautifully sketches a scene of juvenile enjoyment this evening: “I love to see an acre of cake spread out—the sweet frost covering the rich earth below—studded all over with glittering flowers, like ice-plants, and red and green knots of sweetmeat, and hollow yellowcrusted crowns, and kings and queens, and their paraphernalia. I delight to see a score of happy children sitting huddled all round the dainty fare, eyeing the cake and each other, with faces sunny enough to thaw the white snow. I like to see the gazing silence which is kept so religiously while the large knife goes its round, and the glistening eyes which feed beforehand on the huge slices, dark with citron and plums, and heavy as gold. And then, when the “Characters” are drawn, is it nothing to watch the peeping delight which escapes from their little eyes? One is proud, as king; another stately, as queen; then there are two whispering grotesque secrets which they cannot contain (those are sir Gregory Goose and sir Tunbelly Clumsy.) The boys laugh out at their own misfortunes; but the little girls (almost ashamed of their prizes) sit blushing and silent. It is not until the lady of the house goes round, that some of the more extravagant fictions are revealed. And then, what a roar of mirth! Ha, ha! The ceiling shakes, and the air is torn. They bound from their seats like kids, and insist on seeing Miss Thompson’s card. Ah! what merry spite is proclaimed—what ostentatious pity! The little girl is almost in tears; but the large lump of allotted cake is placed seasonably in her hands, and the glass of sweet wine ‘all round’ drowns the shrill urchin laughter, and a gentler delight prevails.” Does not this make a charming picture?

There is some difficulty in collecting accounts of the manner wherein Twelfth-night is celebrated in the country. In “Time’s Telescope,” an useful and entertaining annual volume, there is a short reference to the usage in Cumberland, and other northern parts of England. It seems that on Twelfth-night, which finishes their Christmas holidays, the rustics meet in a large room. They begin dancing at seven o’clock, and finish at twelve, when they sit down to lobscouse, and ponsondie; the former is made of beef, potatoes, and onions fried together; and in ponsondie we recognise the wassail or waes-hael of ale, boiled with sugar and nutmeg, into which are put roasted apples,—the anciently admired lambs’-wool. The feast is paid for by subscription: two women are chosen, who with two wooden bowls placed one within the other, so as to leave an opening and a space between them, go round to the female part of the society in succession, and what one puts into the uppermost bowl the attendant collectress slips into the bowl beneath it. All are expected to contribute something, but not more than a shilling, and they are best esteemed who give most. The men choose two from themselves, and follow the same custom, except that as the gentlemen are not supposed to be altogether so fair in their dealings as the ladies, one of the collectors is furnished with pen, ink, and paper, to set down the subscriptions as soon as received.

If a satirical prophecy in “Vox Graculi,” 4to. 1623, may be relied on as authority, it bears testimony to the popularity of Twelfth-night at that period. On the 6th of January the author declares, that “this day, about the houres of 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10, yea, in some places till midnight well nigh, will be such a massacre of spice-bread, that, ere the next day at noon, a two-penny browne loafe will set twenty poore folkes teeth on edge. Which hungry humour will hold so violent, that a number of good fellowes will not refuse to give a statute-marchant of all the lands and goods they enjoy, for half-a-crown’s worth of two-penny pasties.” He further affirms, that there will be “on this night much masking in the Strand, Cheapside, Holbourne, or Fleet-street.”

“The twelve days of Christmas,” as the extent of its holidays, were proverbial; but among labourers, in some parts, the Christmas festivities did not end till Candlemas. Old Tusser, in his “Five Hundred Points of good Husbandry,” would have the merriments end in six days; he begins January with this advice to the countryman:

When Christmas is ended, bid feasting adue,Goe play the good husband, thy stock to renue:Be mindful of rearing, in hope of a gaine,Dame Profit shall give thee reward for thy paine.

This was the recommendation of prudence tempered by kindness; a desire for diligence in the husbandman, with an allowance of reasonable pastime to sweeten his labour.

From Naogeorgus, in “The Popish Kingdome,” a poem before quoted, and which will be frequently referred to for its lore regarding our ancient customs, itis to be gathered, that the king of Twelfth-night, after the manner of royalty, appointed his officers. He himself attained his dignity thus:

Then also every householder, to his abilitie,Doth make a mightie cake, that may suffice his companie:Herein a pennie doth he put, before it come to fire,This he divides according as his householde doth require,And every peece distributeth, as round about they stand,Which in their names unto the poore is given out of hand.But who so chaunceth on the peece wherein the money lies,Is counted king amongst them all, and is with showtes and criesExalted to the heavens up.

Mr. Fosbroke notices, that “the cake was full of plums, with a bean in it for the king, and a pea for the queen, so as to determine them by the slices. Sometimes a penny was put in the cake, and the person who obtained it, becoming king, crossed all the beams and rafters of the house against devils. A chafing-dish with burning frankincense was also lit, and the odour snuffed up by the whole family, to keep off disease for the year. After this, the master and mistress went round the house with the pan, a taper, and a loaf, against witchcraft.”

So far Mr. Fosbroke abridges Naogeorgus’s account, which goes on to say, that

— in these dayes beside,They judge what weather all the yeare shall happen and betide:Ascribing to each day a month, and at this present time,The youth in every place doe flocke, and all apparel’d fine,With pypars through the streetes they runne, and singe at every dore.*****There cities are, where boyes and gyrles, together still do runne,About the streete with like, as soone as night beginnes to come,And bring abrode their wassel bowles, who well rewarded bee,With cakes and cheese, and great good cheare, and money plenteouslee.

*****

There cities are, where boyes and gyrles, together still do runne,About the streete with like, as soone as night beginnes to come,And bring abrode their wassel bowles, who well rewarded bee,With cakes and cheese, and great good cheare, and money plenteouslee.

Queen Elizabeth’s Progresses by Mr. Nichols, contain an entertainment to her at Sudley, wherein were Melibæus, the King of the Bean, and Nisa, the queen of the Pea.

“Mel.Cut the cake: who hath thebeane, shall be King; and where thepeazeis, she shall be Queene.

“Nis.I have thepeaze, and must be Queene.

“Mel.I have thebeane, and King; I must commande.”

Pinkerton’s “Ancient Scotish Poems,” contain a letter from sir Thomas Randolph, queen Elizabeth’s chamberlain of the Exchequer, to Dudley lord Leicester, dated from Edinburgh on the 15th January, 1563, wherein he mentions, that Lady Flemyng was “Queen of theBeene” on Twelfth-day in that year: and in Ben Jonson’s Masque of Christmas, Baby-cake, one of the characters, is attended by “an Usher, bearing a great cake with a bean, and a pease.” Herrick, the poet of our festivals, has several allusions to the celebration of this day by our ancestors: the poem here subjoined, recognises its customs with strict adherence to truth, and in pleasant strains of joyousness.

Twelfe-night, or King and Queene.Now, now the mirth comesWith the cake full of plums,Where beane’s the king of the sport here,Beside, we must know,The pea alsoMust revell, as queene in the court here.Begin then to chuse,This night as ye use,Who shall for the present delight here,Be a king by the lot,And who shall notBe Twelfe-day queene for the night here.Which knowne, let us makeJoy-sops with the cake;And let not a man then be seen here,Who unurg’d will not drinke,To the base from the brink,A health to the king and the queene here.Next crowne the bowle ful.With gentle lambs-wooll;Adde sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,With store of ale, too;And thus ye must doeTo make the wassaile a swinger.Give them to the kingAnd queene wassailing;And though with ale ye be whet here;Yet part ye from hence,As free from offence,As when ye innocent met here.

Twelfe-night, or King and Queene.

Now, now the mirth comesWith the cake full of plums,Where beane’s the king of the sport here,Beside, we must know,The pea alsoMust revell, as queene in the court here.Begin then to chuse,This night as ye use,Who shall for the present delight here,Be a king by the lot,And who shall notBe Twelfe-day queene for the night here.Which knowne, let us makeJoy-sops with the cake;And let not a man then be seen here,Who unurg’d will not drinke,To the base from the brink,A health to the king and the queene here.Next crowne the bowle ful.With gentle lambs-wooll;Adde sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,With store of ale, too;And thus ye must doeTo make the wassaile a swinger.Give them to the kingAnd queene wassailing;And though with ale ye be whet here;Yet part ye from hence,As free from offence,As when ye innocent met here.

Now, now the mirth comesWith the cake full of plums,Where beane’s the king of the sport here,Beside, we must know,The pea alsoMust revell, as queene in the court here.

Begin then to chuse,This night as ye use,Who shall for the present delight here,Be a king by the lot,And who shall notBe Twelfe-day queene for the night here.

Which knowne, let us makeJoy-sops with the cake;And let not a man then be seen here,Who unurg’d will not drinke,To the base from the brink,A health to the king and the queene here.

Next crowne the bowle ful.With gentle lambs-wooll;Adde sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,With store of ale, too;And thus ye must doeTo make the wassaile a swinger.

Give them to the kingAnd queene wassailing;And though with ale ye be whet here;Yet part ye from hence,As free from offence,As when ye innocent met here.

A citation by Brand represents the ancient Twelfth-night-cake to have been composed of flour, honey, ginger, and pepper. The maker thrust in, at random, a small coin as she was kneading it. When baked, it was divided into as many parts as therewere persons in the family, and each had his share. Portions of it were also assigned to Christ, the Virgin, and the three Magi, and were given in alms.

On Twelfth-day the people of Germany and the students of its academies chose a king with great ceremony and sumptuous feastings.

In France, the Twelfth-cake is plain, with a bean; the drawer of the slice containing the bean is king or queen. All drink to her or his majesty, who reigns, and receives homage from all, during the evening. There is no other drawing, and consequently the sovereign is the only distinguished character. In Normandy they place a child under the table, which is so covered with a cloth that he cannot see; and when the cake is divided, one of the company taking up the first piece, cries out, “Fabe Domini pour qui?” The child answers, “Pour le bon Dieu:” and in this manner the pieces are allotted to the company. If the bean be found in the piece for the “bon Dieu,” the king is chosen by drawing long or short straws. Whoever gets the bean chooses the king or queen, according as it happens to be a man or woman. According to Brand, under the old order of things, the Epiphany was kept at the French court by one of the courtiers being chosen king, and the other nobles attended an entertainment on the occasion; but, in 1792, during the revolution,La Fête de Roiswas abolished; Twelfth-day was ordered to be calledLa Fête de Sans-Culottes; the old feast was declared anti-civic; and any priest keeping it was deemed a royalist. The Literary Pocket Book affirms, that atLa Fête de Roisthe French monarch and his nobles waited on the Twelfth-night king, and that the custom was not revived on the return of the Bourbons, but that instead of it the royal family washed the feet of some people and gave them alms.

There is a difference of opinion as to theoriginof Twelfth-day. Brand says, “that though its customs vary in different countries, yet they concur in the same end, that is, to do honour to the Eastern Magi.” He afterwards observes, “that the practice of choosing ‘king,’ on Twelfth-day, is similar to a custom that existed among the ancient Greeks and Romans, who, on the festival days of Saturn, about this season of the year, drew lots for kingdoms and like kings exercised their temporary authority.” Indeed, it appears, that the question is almost at rest. Mr. Fosbroke affirms that “the king of Saturnalia was elected by beans, and that from thence came our king and queen on this day.” The coincidence of the election bybeanshaving been common to both customs, leaves scarcely the possibility of doubt that ours is a continuation of the heathen practice under another name. Yet “some of the observances on this day are the remains of Druidical, and other superstitious ceremonies.” On these points, if Mr. Fosbroke’s Dictionary of Antiquities be consulted by the curious inquirer, he will there find the authorities, and be in other respects gratified.

TheEpiphanyis calledTwelfth-day, because it falls on the twelfth day after Christmas-day.Epiphanysignifies manifestation, and is applied to this day because it is the day whereon Christ was manifested to the Gentiles. Bourne in his Vulgar Antiquities, which is the substructure of Brand’s Popular Antiquities, remarks that this is the greatest of the twelve holidays, and is therefore more jovially observed, by the visiting of friends and Christmas gambols, than any other.

Finally, on observances of this festival not connected with the Twelfth-night king and queen. It is a custom in many parishes in Gloucestershire on this day to light up twelve small fires and one large one; this is mentioned by Brand: and Mr. Fosbroke relates, that in some countries twelve fires of straw are made in the fields “to burn the old witch,” and that the people sing, drink, and dance around it, and practise other ceremonies in continuance. He takes “the old witch” to be the Druidical God of Death. It is stated by sir Henry Piers, in genl. Vallancey’s “Collectanea,” that, at Westmeath, “on Twelve-eve in Christmas, they used to set up as high as they can a sieve of oats, and in it a dozen of candles set round, and in the centre one larger, all lighted; this in memory of our saviour and his apostles, lights of the world.” Sir Henry’s inference may reasonably be doubted; the custom is probably of higher antiquity than he seems to have suspected.

A very singular merriment in the Isle of Man is mentioned by Waldron, in his history of that place. He says, that “during the whole twelve days of Christmas,there is not a barn unoccupied, and that every parish hires fiddlers at the public charge. On Twelfth-day, the fiddler lays his head in some one of the girls’ laps, and a third person asks, who such a maid, or such a maid shall marry, naming the girls then present one after another; to which he answers according to his own whim, or agreeable to the intimacies he has taken notice of during this time of merriment. But whatever he says is as absolutely depended on as an oracle; and if he happens to couple two people who have an aversion to each other, tears and vexation succeed the mirth. This they call cutting off the fiddler’s head; for, after this, he is dead for the whole year.”

It appears from the Gentleman’s Magazine, that on Twelfth-day 1731, the king and the prince at the chapel royal, St. James’s, made their offerings at the altar, of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, according to custom, and that at night their majesties, &c. played at hazard for the benefit of the groom-porter. These offerings which clearly originate from the Roman church, and are not analogous to any ceremony of the church of England, continue to be annually made; with this difference, however, that the king is represented by proxy in the person of some distinguished officer of the household. In other respects the proceedings are conducted with the usual state.

sun and earth

Midwinter is over. According to astronomical reckoning, we have just passed that point in the earth’s orbit, where the north pole is turned most from the sun. This position is represented in the diagram above, by the direction of the terminator, or boundary line of light and darkness, which is seen to divide the globe into two equal parts; the north pole, which is the upper pole in the figure, and all parts within 321⁄2degrees, being enveloped in constant darkness. We now trace the sun among the stars of the constellation Capricorn or sea-goat, and it is winter in the whole northern hemisphere. At the beginning of January the earth is at itsleastdistance from the sun, which is proved by measuring the apparent magnitude of that luminary by means of an instrument called a micrometer, his disc being now about 32 minutes of a degree; whereas at the opposite season, or at the beginning of July, near our Midsummer, his apparent diameter is only about 31 minutes. The coldness of winter therefore does not depend on the distance of the earth from the sun, but on the very oblique or slanting direction of his rays; less heat falling on any given part of the earth, than when the rays fall more direct. From the slanting direction of his rays they pass through a more dense region of the atmosphere, and are somewhat intercepted; while another cause of the cold is the shortness of our days and the length of our nights; the sun continuing only about seven hours and a half above the horizon, while he is absent for about sixteen hours and a half.

This position of the earth relatively to the sun is exemplified in the Popular Lectures on Astronomy, now delivering at the Assembly-room, Paul’s Head, Cateaton-street, by Mr. John Wallis, onTuesdayandThursdayevenings. His explanations of this noble science are familiarly and beautifully illustrated, by an original and splendid apparatus devised and constructed by his own hands. It consists of extensive mechanism and numerous brilliant transparencies. Mr. Wallis’s lectures onTuesdayandThursdaynext, the 18th and 20th of January, 1825, are under the patronage of the Lord Mayor. Here is a sure mode of acquiring astronomical knowledge, accompanied by the delightful gratification of witnessing a display of the heavens more bewitching than the mind can conceive. Ladies, and young persons especially, have a delightful opportunity of being agreeably entertained by the novelty and beauty of the exhibition and the eloquent descriptions of the enlightened lecturer.

The holly with its red berries, and the “fond ivy,” still stick about our houses to maintain the recollection of the seasonable festivities. Let us hope that we may congratulate each other on having, while we kept them, kept ourselves within compass. Merriment without discretion is an abuse for which nature is sure topunish us. She may suffer our violence for a while in silence; but she is certain to resume her rights at the expense of our health, and put us to heavy charges to maintain existence.

St. Lucian.St. Cedd.St. Kentigerna.St. Aldric.St. Thillo.St. Canut.

This saint is in the calendar of the church of England on the following day, 8th of January. He was a learned Syrian. According to Butler, he corrected the Hebrew version of the Scriptures for the inhabitants of Palestine, during some years was separated from the Romish church, afterwards conformed to it, and died after nine years imprisonment, either by famine or the sword, on this day, in the year 312. It further appears from Butler, that the Arians affirmed of St. Lucian, that to him Arius was indebted for his distinguishing doctrine, which Butler however denies.

The day after Twelfth-day was so called because it was celebrated in honour of therock, which is adistaffheld in the hand, from whence wool is spun by twirling a ball below. It seems that the burning of the flax and tow belonging to the women, was the men’s diversion in the evening of the first day of labour after the twelve days of Christmas, and that the women repaid the interruption to their industry by sluicing the mischief-makers. Herrick tells us of the custom in his Hesperides:—

St. Distaff’s day, or the morrow after Twelfth-day.Partly work, and partly play,Ye must on S. Distaff’s day:From the plough soone free your teame,Then come home and fother them.If the maides a spinning goe,Burne the flax, and fire the tow;***Bring in pailes of water then,Let the maides bewash the men:Give S. Distaffe all the right,Then bid Christmas sport good-night.And next morrow, every oneTo his owne vocation.

St. Distaff’s day, or the morrow after Twelfth-day.

Partly work, and partly play,Ye must on S. Distaff’s day:From the plough soone free your teame,Then come home and fother them.If the maides a spinning goe,Burne the flax, and fire the tow;***Bring in pailes of water then,Let the maides bewash the men:Give S. Distaffe all the right,Then bid Christmas sport good-night.And next morrow, every oneTo his owne vocation.

Partly work, and partly play,Ye must on S. Distaff’s day:From the plough soone free your teame,Then come home and fother them.If the maides a spinning goe,Burne the flax, and fire the tow;

***

Bring in pailes of water then,Let the maides bewash the men:Give S. Distaffe all the right,Then bid Christmas sport good-night.And next morrow, every oneTo his owne vocation.

In elder times, when boisterous diversions were better suited to the simplicity of rustic life than to the comparative refinement of our own, this contest between fire and water must have afforded great amusement.

1772. “An authentic,candid, and circumstancialnarrativeof theastonishing transactionsatStockwell,in the county of Surry, on Monday and Tuesday, the 6th and 7th days ofJanuary, 1772,containing a series of the most surprising and unaccountableeventsthat ever happened; which continued from first to last upwards of twenty hours, and at different places. Published with the consent and approbation of the family, and other parties concerned, to authenticate which, the original Copy is signed by them.”

This is the title of an octavo tract published in “London, printed for J. Marks, bookseller, in St. Martin’s-lane, 1772.” It describes Mrs. Golding, an elderly lady, at Stockwell, in whose house the transactions happened, as a woman of unblemished honour and character; her niece, Mrs. Pain, as the wife of a farmer at Brixton-causeway, the mother of several children, and well known and respected in the parish; Mary Martin as an elderly woman, servant to Mr. and Mrs. Pain, with whom she had lived two years, having previously lived four years with Mrs. Golding, from whom she went into Mrs. Pain’s service; and Richard Fowler and Sarah, his wife, as an honest, industrious, and sober couple, who lived about opposite to Mr. Pain, at the Brick-pound. These were the subscribing witnesses to many of the surprising transactions, which were likewise witnessed by some others. Another person who bore a principal part in these scenes was Ann Robinson, aged about twenty years, who had lived servant with Mrs. Golding but one week and three days. The “astonishing transactions” in Mrs. Golding’s house were these:

On Twelfth-day 1772, about ten o’clock in the forenoon, as Mrs. Golding was in her parlour, she heard the china and glasses in the back kitchen tumble down and break; her maid came to her and told her the stone plates were falling from the shelf; Mrs. Golding went into the kitchen and saw them broke. Presently after, a row of plates from the next shelf fell down likewise, while she was there, and nobody near them; thisastonished her much, and while she was thinking about it, other things in different places began to tumble about, some of them breaking, attended with violent noises all over the house; a clock tumbled down and the case broke; a lantern that hung on the staircase was thrown down and the glass broke to pieces; an earthen pan of salted beef broke to pieces and the beef fell about; all this increased her surprise, and brought several persons about her, among whom was Mr. Rowlidge, a carpenter, who gave it as his opinion that the foundation was giving way and that the house was tumbling down, occasioned by the too great weight of an additional room erected above: “so ready,” says the narrative, “are we to discover natural causes for every thing!”

Mrs. Golding ran into Mr. Gresham’s house, next door to her, where she fainted, and in the interim, Mr. Rowlidge, and other persons, were removing Mrs. Golding’s effects from her house, for fear of the consequences prognosticated. At this time all was quiet; Mrs. Golding’s maid remaining in her house, was gone up stairs, and when called upon several times to come down, for fear of the dangerous situation she was thought to be in, she answered very coolly, and after some time came down deliberately, without any seeming fearful apprehensions.

Mrs. Pain was sent for from Brixton-causeway, and desired to come directly, as her aunt was supposed to be dead;—this was the message toher. When Mrs. Pain came, Mrs. Golding was come to herself, but very faint from terror.

Among the persons who were present, was Mr. Gardner, a surgeon, of Clapham, whom Mrs. Pain desired to bleed her aunt, which he did; Mrs. Pain asked him if the blood should be thrown away; he desired it might not, as he would examine it when cold. These minute particulars would not be taken notice of, but as a chain to what follows. For the next circumstance is of a more astonishing nature than any thing that had preceded it; the blood that was just congealed, sprung out of the basin upon the floor, and presently after the basin broke to pieces; this china basin was the only thing broke belonging to Mr. Gresham; a bottle of rum that stood by it broke at the same time.

Among the things that were removed to Mr. Gresham’s was a tray full of china, &c., a japan bread-basket, some mahogany waiters, with some bottles of liquors, jars of pickles, &c. and a pier glass, which was taken down by Mr. Saville, (a neighbour of Mrs. Golding’s;) he gave it to one Robert Hames, who laid it on the grass-plat at Mr. Gresham’s; but before he could put it out of his hands, some parts of the frame on each side flew off; it raining at that time, Mrs. Golding desired it might be brought into the parlour, where it was put under a side-board, and a dressing-glass along with it; it had not been there long before the glasses and china which stood on the side-board, began to tumble about and fall down, and broke both the glasses to pieces. Mr. Saville and others being asked to drink a glass of wine or rum, both the bottles broke in pieces before they were uncorked.

Mrs. Golding’s surprise and fear increasing, she did not know what to do or where to go; wherever she and her maid were, these strange, destructive circumstances followed her, and how to help or free herself from them, was not in her power or any other person’s present: her mind was one confused chaos, lost to herself and every thing about her, drove from her own home, and afraid there would be none other to receive her, she at last left Mr. Gresham’s, and went to Mr. Mayling’s, a gentleman at the next door, here she staid about three quarters of an hour, during which time nothing happened. Her maid staid at Mr. Gresham’s, to help put up what few things remained unbroken of her mistress’s, in a back apartment, when a jar of pickles that stood upon a table, turned upside down, then a jar of raspberry jam broke to pieces.

Mrs. Pain, not choosing her aunt should stay too long at Mr. Mayling’s, for fear of being troublesome, persuaded her to go to her house at Rush Common, near Brixton-causeway, where she would endeavour to make her as happy as she could, hoping by this time all was over, as nothing had happened at that gentleman’s house while she was there. This was about two o’clock in the afternoon.

Mr. and Miss Gresham were at Mr. Pain’s house, when Mrs. Pain, Mrs. Golding, and her maid went there. It being about dinner time they all dined together; in the interim Mrs. Golding’s servant was sent to her house to see howthings remained. When she returned, she told them nothing had happened since they left it. Sometime after Mr. and Miss Gresham went home, every thing remaining quiet at Mr. Pain’s: but about eight o’clock in the evening a fresh scene began; the first thing that happened was, a whole row of pewter dishes, except one, fell from off a shelf to the middle of the floor, rolled about a little while, then settled, and as soon as they were quiet, turned upside down; they were then put on the dresser, and went through the same a second time: next fell a whole row of pewter plates from off the second shelf over the dresser to the ground, and being taken up and put on the dresser one in another, they were thrown down again. Two eggs were upon one of the pewter shelves, one of them flew off, crossed the kitchen, struck a cat on the head, and then broke to pieces.

Next Mary Martin, Mrs. Pain’s servant, went to stir the kitchen fire, she got to the right hand side of it, being a large chimney as is usual in farm houses, a pestle and mortar that stood nearer the left hand end of the chimney shelf, jumped about six feet on the floor. Then went candlesticks and other brasses: scarce any thing remaining in its place. After this the glasses and china were put down on the floor for fear of undergoing the same fate.

A glass tumbler that was put on the floor jumped about two feet and then broke. Another that stood by it jumped about at the same time, but did not break till some hours after, when it jumped again and then broke. A china bowl that stood in the parlour jumped from the floor, to behind a table that stood there. This was most astonishing, as the distance from where it stood was between seven and eight feet, but was not broke. It was put back by Richard Fowler, to its place, where it remained some time, and then flew to pieces.

The next thing that followed was a mustard-pot, that jumped out of a closet and was broke. A single cup that stood upon the table (almost the only thing remaining) jumped up, flew across the kitchen, ringing like a bell, and then was dashed to pieces against the dresser. A tumbler with rum and water in it, that stood upon a waiter upon a table in the parlour, jumped about ten feet and was broke. The table then fell down, and along with it a silver tankard belonging to Mrs. Golding, the waiter in which had stood the tumbler, and a candlestick. A case bottle then flew to pieces.

The next circumstance was, a ham, that hung on one side of the kitchen chimney, raised itself from the hook and fell down to the ground. Some time after, another ham, that hung on the other side of the chimney, likewise underwent the same fate. Then a flitch of bacon, which hung up in the same chimney, fell down.

All the family were eye-witnesses to these circumstances as well as other persons, some of whom were so alarmed and shocked, that they could not bear to stay.

At all the times of action, Mrs. Golding’s servant was walking backwards and forwards, either in the kitchen or parlour, or wherever some of the family happened to be. Nor could they get her to sit down five minutes together, except at one time for about half an hour towards the morning, when the family were at prayers in the parlour; then all was quiet; but, in the midst of the greatest confusion, she was as much composed as at any other time, and with uncommon coolness of temper advised her mistress not to be alarmed or uneasy, as she said these things could not be helped.

“This advice,” it is observed in the narrative, surprised and startled her mistress, almost as much as the circumstances that occasioned it. “For how can we suppose,” says the narrator, “that a girl of about twenty years old, (an age when female timidity is too often assisted by superstition,) could remain in the midst of such calamitous circumstances, (except they proceeded from causes best known to herself,) and not be struck with the same terror as every other person was who was present. These reflections led Mr. Pain, and at the end of the transactions, likewise Mrs. Golding, to think that she was not altogether so unconcerned as she appeared to be.”

About ten o’clock at night, they sent over the way to Richard Fowler, to desire he would come and stay with them. He came and continued till one in the morning, when he was so terrified, that he could remain no longer.

As Mrs. Golding could not be persuaded to go to bed, Mrs. Pain, at one o’clock, made an excuse to go up stairs to her youngest child, under pretence of getting it to sleep; but she really acknowledged it was through fear, as she declared she could not sit up to see such strange things going on, as every thing one after another was broken, till there was not above two or three cups and saucers remaining out of aconsiderable quantity of china, &c., which was destroyed to the amount of some pounds.

About five o’clock on Tuesday morning, the 7th, Mrs. Golding went up to her niece, and desired her to get up, as the noises and destruction were so great she could continue in the house no longer. Mrs. Golding and her maid went over the way to Richard Fowler’s: when Mrs. Golding’s maid had seen her safe to Richard Fowler’s, she came back to Mrs. Pain, to help her to dress the children in the barn, where she had carried them for fear of the house falling. At this time all was quiet: they then went to Fowler’s, and then began the same scene as had happened at the other places. All was quiet here as well as elsewhere, till the maid returned.

When they got to Mr. Fowler’s, he began to light a fire in his back room. When done, he put the candle and candlestick upon a table in the fore room. This apartment Mrs. Golding and her maid had passed through. Another candlestick with a tin lamp in it that stood by it, were both dashed together, and fell to the ground. At last the basket of coals tumbled over, and the coals rolling about the room, the maid desired Richard Fowler not to let her mistress remain there, as she said, wherever she was, the same things would follow. In consequence of this advice, and fearing greater losses to himself, he desired Mrs. Golding would quit his house; but first begged her to consider within herself, for her own and the public sake, whether or not she had not been guilty of some atrocious crime, for which Providence was determined to pursue her on this side the grave. Mrs. Golding told him she would not stay in his house, or any other person’s, as her conscience was quite clear, and she could as well wait the will of Providence in her own house as in any other place whatever; upon which she and her maid went home, and Mrs. Pain went with them.

After they had got to Mrs. Golding’s, a pail of water, that stood on the floor, boiled like a pot; a box of candles fell from a shelf in the kitchen to the floor, and they rolled out, but none were broken, and the table in the parlour fell over.

Mr. Pain then desired Mrs. Golding to send her maid for his wife to come to them, and when she was gone all was quiet; upon her return she was immediately discharged, and no disturbances happened afterwards; this was between six and seven o’clock on Tuesday morning. At Mrs. Golding’s were broken the quantity of three pails full of glass, china, &c. Mrs. Pain’s filled two pails.

The accounts here related are in the words of the “narrative,” which bears the attestation of the witnesses before mentioned. The affair is still remembered by many persons: it is usually denominated the “Stockwell Ghost,” and deemed inexplicable. It must be recollected, however, that the mysterious movements were never made but when Ann Robinson, Mrs. Golding’s maid-servant, was present, and that they wholly ceased when she was dismissed. Though these two circumstances tend to prove that this girl was the cause of the disturbances, scarcely any one who lived at that time listened patiently to the presumption, or without attributing the whole to witchcraft. One lady, whom the editor of theEvery-Day Bookconversed with several times on the subject, firmly believed in the witchcraft, because she had been eye-witness to the animation of the inanimate crockery and furniture, which she said could not have been effected by human means—it was impossible. He derived, however, a solution of these “impossibilities” from the late Mr. J.B———, at his residence in Southampton-street, Camberwell, towards the close of the year 1817. Mr.B———said, all London was in an uproar about the “Stockwell Ghost” for a long time, and it would have made more noise than the “Cock-lane Ghost,” if it had lasted longer; but attention to it gradually died away, and most people believed it was supernatural. Mr.B———, in continuation, observed, that some years after it happened, he became acquainted with this very Ann Robinson, without knowing for a long time that she had been the servant-maid to Mrs. Golding. He learned it by accident, and told her what he had heard. She admitted it was true, and in due season, he says, he got all the story out. She had fixed long horse hairs to some of the crockery, and put wires under others; on pulling these, the “movables” of course fell. Mrs. Golding was terribly frightened, and so were all who saw any thing tumble. Ann Robinson herself, dexterously threw many of the things down, which the persons present, when they turned round and saw them in motion or broken, attributed to unseen agency. These spectators were all too much alarmed by their own dread of infernal power to examine any thing.They kept at an awful distance, and sometimes would not look at the utensils, lest they might face fresh horrors; of these tempting opportunities she availed herself. She put the eggs in motion, and after one only fell down, threw the other at the cat. Their terrors at the time, and their subsequent conversations magnified many of the circumstances beyond the facts. She took advantage of absences to loosen the hams and bacon, and attach them by the skins; in short, she effected all the mischief. She caused the water in the pail to appear as if it boiled, by slipping in a paper of chemical powders as she passed, and afterwards it bubbled. “Indeed,” said Mr.B———, “there was a love story connected with the case, and when I have time, I will write out the whole, as I got it by degrees from the woman herself. When she saw the effect of her first feats, she was tempted to exercise the dexterity beyond her original purpose for mere amusement. She was astonished at the astonishment she caused, and so went on from one thing to another; and being quick in her motions and shrewd, she puzzled all the simple old people, and nearly frightened them to death.” Mr.B———chuckled mightily over his recollections; he was fond of a practical joke, and enjoyed the tricks of Ann Robinson with all his heart. By his acuteness, curiosity, and love of drollery, he drew from her the entire confession; and “as the matter was all over years ago, and no more harm could be done,” said Mr. B., “I never talked about it much, for her sake; but of this I can assure you, that the only magic in the thing was, her dexterity and the people’s simplicity.” Mr. B. promised to put down the whole on paper; but he was ailing and infirm, and accident prevented the writer from caring much for a “full, true, and particular account,” which he could have had at any time, till Mr. Brayfield’s death rendered it unattainable.

Mr. Arthur Aikin, in his “Calendar of Nature,” presents us with a variety of acceptable information concerning the operations of nature throughout the year. “The plants at this season,” he says, “are provided by nature with a sort of winter-quarters, which secure them from the effects of cold. Those calledherbaceous, which die down to the root every autumn, are now safely concealed under-ground, preparing their new shoots to burst forth when the earth is softened in spring. Shrubs and trees, which are exposed to the open air, have all their soft and tender parts closely wrapt up in buds, which by their firmness resist all the power of frost; the larger kinds of buds, and those which are almost ready to expand, are further guarded by a covering of resin or gum, such as the horse-chestnut, the sycamore, and the lime. Their external covering, however, and the closeness of their internal texture, are of themselves by no means adequate to resist the intense cold of a winter’s night: a buddetachedfrom its stem, enclosed in glass, and thus protected from all access of external air, if suspended from a tree during a sharp frost, will be entirely penetrated, and its parts deranged by the cold, while the buds on the same tree will not have sustained the slightest injury; we must therefore attribute to theliving principlein vegetables, as well as animals, the power of resisting cold to a very considerable degree: in animals, we know, this power is generated from the decomposition of air by means of the lungs, and disengagement of heat; how vegetables acquire this property remains for future observations to discover. If one of these buds be carefully opened, it is found to consist of young leaves rolled together, within which are even all the blossoms in miniature that are afterwards to adorn the spring.”

During the mild weather of winter, slugs are in constant motion preying on plants and green wheat. Their covering of slime prevent the escape of animal heat, and hence they are enabled to ravage when their brethren of the shell, who are more sensible of cold, lie dormant. Earthworms likewise appear about this time; but let the man of nice order, with a little garden, discriminate between the destroyer, and the innocent and useful inhabitant. One summer evening, the worms from beneath a small grass plat, lay half out of their holes, or were dragging “their slow length” upon the surface. They were all carefully taken up, and preserved as a breakfast for the ducks. In the following year, the grass-plat, which had flourished annually with its worms, vegetated unwillingly. They were the under-gardeners that loosened the sub-soil, and let the warm air through their entrances to nourish the roots of the herbage.

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