because it falleth on the day which, heretofore, was usually called the Feast of the Nativity of our Saviour; the lords and commons do order and ordain that public notice be given, that the Fast appointed to be kept on the last Wednesday in every month, ought to be observed until it be otherwise ordered by both houses; and that this day particularly is to be kept with the more solemn humiliation, because it may call to remembrance our sins and the sins of our forefathers, who have turned this Feast, pretending the memory of Christ, into an extreme forgetfulness of him, by giving liberty to carnal and sensual delights; being contrary to the life which Christ himself led here upon earth, and to the spiritual life of Christ in our souls; for the sanctifying and saving whereof Christ was pleased both to take a human life, and to lay it down again.
"The lords ordered That the Lord Mayor of London take care that this Ordinance should be dispersed to all churches and chapels, within the line of communication and the bills of mortality. Afterwards it was made general through the kingdom; in consequence of which Christmas day was no longer observed as a Festival, by law, till the Restoration."
But the popular love of Christmas could not be done away with by restrictive legislation, as the movers therein very well knew, teste Lightfoot, who, in his Journal, says "Some of our members were sent to the houses to desire them to give an order that the next Fast day might be solemnly kept, because the people will be ready to neglect it, being Christmas day."
Nor was anything neglected to repress this Christ-tide, because its keeping was inbred in the people, and they hated this sour puritanical feeling, and the doing away with their accustomed festivities. Richard Kentish told the House of Commons so in very plain language. Said he: "The people of England do hate to be reformed; so now, a prelatical priest, with a superstitious service book, is more desired, and would be better welcome to the generality of England, than the most learned, laborious, conscientious preacher, whether Presbyterian or Independent. These poor simple creatures are mad after superstitious festivals, after unholy holidays."
The houses of Parliament baked their pie for themselves, and deservedly had to eat it; for two red hot gospellers, Calamy and Sedgewick, preached on the iniquity of keeping Christ-tide to the Lords in Westminster Abbey; whilst in the contiguous Church of S. Margaret, Thorowgood and Langley expatiated on the same theme to the Commons, and, as if they could not have enough of so good a thing, all four sermons were printed by order of the Houses.
Calamy in his sermon said, "This day is the day which is commonly called the Feast of Christ's Nativity, or Christmas Day, a day that hath hitherto been much abused in superstition and profaneness. I have known some that have preferred Christmas Day before the Lord's Day, and have cried down the Lord's Day and cried up Christmas Day. I have known those that would be sure to receive the Sacrament on Christmas Day though they did not receive it all the year after. This was the superstition of this day, and the profaneness was as great. There were some that did not play cards all the year long, yet they must play at Christmas. This year, God, by a providence hath buried this Feast in a Fast, and I hope it will never rise again. You have set out, Right Honourable, a strict Order for the keeping of it, and you are here to-day to observe your own Order, and I hope you will do it strictly." And he finished with a prayer, in which he begged they might have grace "to be humbled, especially for the old superstition and profaneness of this Feast."
But although the English people were crushed for a time under the iron heel of the Puritan boot, they had no sympathy with their masters, nor their ways—vide the rebound, immediately after Oliver Cromwell's death, and the return to the old state of things, which has never altered since, except as a matter of fashion. Yet, even then, there were protests against this effacement of Christ-tide, and many have been handed down to us, differing naturally very much in style. One really amusing one has the merit of being short: and when the reader of this book has perused it, I believe he will thank me for having reproduced it. It is—
"the
ARRAIGNMENT
Conviction and Imprisonment
of
CHRISTMAS
On S. Thomas Day last,
And
How he broke out of Prison in the Holidayes and got away, onely left his hoary hair, and gray beard, sticking between two Iron Bars of a Window.
With
An Hue and Cry after Christmas, and a Letter from Mr. Woodcock, a Fellow in Oxford, to a Malignant Lady in London.
And divers passages between the Lady and the Cryer, about Old Christmas: And what shift he was fain to make to save his life, and great stir to fetch him back again.
With divers other Witty Passages.
Printed by Simon Minc'd Pye, for Cissely Plum-Porridge; And are to be sold by Ralph Fidler, Chandler, at the signe of the Pack of Cards in Mustard-Alley, in Brawn Street. 1645."
This little Tract commenced with the supposed Letter,
"Lady,
"I Beseech you, for the love of Oxford, hire a Cryer (I will see him paid for his paines), to cry old father Christmas, and keep him with you (if you can meet with him, and stay him), till we come to London, for we expect to be there shortly, and then we will have all things as they were wont, I warrant you; hold up your spirits, and let not your old friends be lost out of your favour, for his sake, who is
"Your ever servant,
"Jo. Woodcock.
"Lady—Honest Crier, I know thou knewest old Father Christmas; I am sent to thee from an honest schollar of Oxford (that hath given me many a hug and kisse in Christmasse time when we have been merry) to cry Christmas, for they hear that he is gone from hence, and that we have lost the poor old man; you know what marks he hath, and how to cry him.
"Cryer—Who shall pay me for my paines?
"Lady—Your old friend, Mr. Woodcock, of Oxford. Wilt thou take his word?
"Cryer—I will cry him, I warrant you, through the Citie and Countrie, and it shall go hard but I will finde him out; I can partly ghesse who can tell some newes of him, if any people in England can, for I am acquainted with all his familiar friends. Trust me in this businesse, I will bring you word within fewe dayes.
Ho-o-o-o-o-o-o yes, ho-o-o-o-o-o yes, ho-o-o-o-o-o yes;
Any man or woman, whether Popish or Prelaticall, Superstitious or Judaicall, or what person so ever, of any Tribe or Trullibub,[6] that can give any knowledge, or tell any tidings of an old, old, old, very old, grey-bearded Gentleman, called Christmas, who was wont to be a verie familiar ghest, and visite all sorts of people, both poor and rich, and used to appear in glittering gold silk and silver in the Court, and in all shapes in the Theater in Whitehall, and had ringing feasts and jollitie in all places, both in the Citie and Countrie for his comming; if you went to the Temple, you might have found him there at In and In, till many a Gentleman had outed all the mony from his pocket, and after all, the Butlers found him locked up in their Boxes: And in almost every house, you might have found him at Cards and Dice, the very boyes and children could have traced him and the Beggers have followed him from place to place, and seen him walking up and downe, and in every house roast Beefe and Mutton, Pies and Plum-porrige, and all manner of delicates round about him, and every one saluting merry Christmas: If you had gone to the Queene's Chappel, you might have found him standing against the wall, and the Papists weeping, and beating themselves before him, and kissing
