Part 43 (1/2)
”To the men who have already lived many weary months among the icebergs, Christmas signifies, in addition to its other a.s.sociations, that the half of their long night--with its fearful storms, its enforced cessation of all energy, its discomfort and sadness--has pa.s.sed, and that the sun will soon again shed its life and warmth-giving beams on the long-deserted North. From this time the grim twilight, during which noon has been hardly distinguishable from the other hours, grows daily lighter, until at length all hearts are gladdened, and a cheerful activity is once again called forth by the first glimpse of the sun. Christmas, the midnight of the Arctic explorer, thus marks a period in his life which he has good cause to consider a joyful one.
”For days before the festival, an unusual activity was observable all over the s.h.i.+p; and as soon as the severe storm which raged from December 16th to the 21st had abated, parties were organised, under our botanist, Dr. Pansch, to certain points of Sabine Island, near to which we were anch.o.r.ed, where, in a strangely sheltered nook, several varieties of a native Greenland evergreen plant, _Andromeda tetragona_, were to be found. A great quant.i.ty of this plant was conveyed on board, to be converted into a Christmas-tree. Under the orders of Dr. Pansch, the Andromeda was wound round small pieces of wood, several of which were attached, like fir-twigs, to a large bough; and when these boughs were fastened to a pole, they formed a very respectable fir-tree.
”After dinner on Christmas Day, the cabin was cleared for the completion of the preparations; and on our recall at six o'clock, we found that all had a.s.sumed an unwontedly festive appearance. The walls were decorated with the signal-flags and our national eagle; and the large cabin table, somewhat enlarged to make room to seat seventeen men, was covered with a clean white cloth, which had been reserved for the occasion. On the table stood the 'fir' tree, s.h.i.+ning in the splendour of many little wax-lights, and ornaments with all sorts of little treasures, some of which, such as the gilded walnuts, had already seen a Christmas in Germany; below the tree was a small present for each of us, provided long beforehand, in readiness for the day, by loving friends and relatives at home. There was a packet too for each of the crew, containing some little joking gift, prepared by the mirth-loving Dr. Pansch, and a useful present also; while the officers were each and all remembered.
”When the lights burned down, and the resinous Andromeda was beginning to take fire, the tree was put aside, and a feast began, at which full justice was done to the costly Sicilian wine with which a friend had generously supplied us before we left home. We had a dish of roast seal! Some cakes were made by the cook, and the steward produced his best stores. For the evening, the division between the fore and aft cabins was removed, and there was free intercourse between officers and men; many a toast was drunk to the memory of friends at home, and at midnight a polar ball was improvised by a dance on the ice. The boatswain, the best musician of the party, seated himself with his hand-organ between the antlers of a reindeer which lay near the s.h.i.+p, and the men danced two and two on their novel flooring of hard ice!
”Such was our experience of a Christmas in the north polar circle; but the uncertainties of Arctic voyaging are great, and the two s.h.i.+ps of our expedition made trial of the widely different fates which await the travellers in those frozen regions: and while we on the _Germania_ were singularly fortunate in escaping accidents and in keeping our crew, in spite of some hards.h.i.+ps, in sound health and good spirits, the _Hansa_ was crushed by the ice, and her crew, after facing unheard-of dangers, and pa.s.sing two hundred days on a block of ice, were barely rescued to return home.”
Yet even to the crew of the ill-fated _Hansa_ Christmas brought some festivities. The tremendous gale which had raged for many days ceased just before the day, and the heavy fall of snow with which it terminated, and which had almost buried the black huts that the s.h.i.+pwrecked men had constructed for themselves upon the drifting icebergs from the _debris_ of the wreck, had produced a considerable rise in the temperature, and there was every indication that a season of calm might now be antic.i.p.ated.
The log-book of the _Hansa_ thus describes the celebration of the festival:--”The tree was erected in the afternoon, while the greater part of the crew took a walk; and the lonely hut shone with wonderful brightness amid the snow. Christmas upon a Greenland iceberg! The tree was artistically put together of firwood and mat-weed, and Dr. Laube had saved a twist of wax-taper for the illumination. Chains of coloured paper and newly-baked cakes were not wanting, and the men had made a knapsack and a revolver case as a present for the captain. We opened the leaden chests of presents from Professor Hochstetter and the Geological Society, and were much amused by their contents. Each man had a gla.s.s of port wine; and we then turned over the old newspapers which we found in the chests, and drew lots for the presents, which consisted of small musical instruments such as fifes, jew's-harps, trumpets, &c., with draughts and other games, puppets, crackers, &c. In the evening we feasted on chocolate and gingerbread.”
”We observed the day very quietly,” writes Dr. Laube in his diary. ”If this Christmas be the last we are to see, it was at least a cheerful one; but should a happy return home be decreed for us, the next will, we trust, be far brighter. May G.o.d so grant!”
CHRISTMAS IN THE CRIMEA.
The Christmas of 1854 was a dismal one for the soldiers in the Crimea, witnessing and enduring what Lord John Russell spoke of as ”the horrible and heartrending scenes of that Crimean winter.”
”Thanks to General Muddle,” says a journal of the period, ”the Crimean Christmas of 1854 was anything but what it ought to and might have been; and the knowledge that plenty of good things had been provided by thoughtful hearts at home, but which were anywhere but where they were wanted, did not add to the merriment of our poor overworked, underfed army; and although some desperate efforts were made to be jolly on dreary outpost and in uncomfortable trenches, they only resulted in miserable failure. The following Christmas was doubly enjoyable by comparison. The stubborn fortress (Sebastopol) had fallen at last to its more stubborn a.s.sailants; habit had deprived frost and snow of their terrors, and every hut ran over with hams, preserves, vegetables, and mysterious tins, till it resembled a grocer's store.
The valleys of Miscomia, too, were rich in mistletoe, to be had for the trouble of gathering; but few cared to undergo that trouble for the sake of what only reminded them of unattainable sweets, and made them sigh for the girls they had left behind them.”
In 1855, Messrs. Macmillan & Co. published a poem by H. R. F., ent.i.tled ”Christmas Dawn, 1854,” in which the writer pictures the festivities marred by war:--
”A happy Christmas!
Happy! to whom? Perchance to infancy, And innocent childhood, while the germ of sin, Yet undeveloped, leaves a virgin soil For joy, and Death and Sorrow are but names.
But who, that bears a mind matured to thought, A heart to feel, shall look abroad this day And speak of happiness? The church is deckt With festive garlands, and the sunbeams glance From glossy evergreens; the mistletoe Pearl-studded, and the holly's l.u.s.trous bough Gleaming with coral fruitage; but we muse Of laurel blent with cypress. Gaze we down Yon crowded aisle? the mourner's dusky weeds Sadden the eye; and they who wear them not Have mourning in their hearts, or lavish tears Of sympathy on griefs too deeply lodged For man's weak ministry.
A happy Christmas!
Ah me! how many hearths are desolate!
How many a vacant seat awaits in vain The loved one who returns not! Shall we drain The cheerful cup--a health to absent friends?
Whom do we pledge? the living or the dead?”
Thus did the poet, ”sick at heart,” explore ”the realm of sorrow”; and then again he mused:
”In humbler mood to hail the auspicious day, s.h.i.+ne forth rejoicing in thy strength, O sun, s.h.i.+ne through the dubious mists and tearful show'rs That darken Hope's clear azure! Christ is born, The life of those who wake, and those who sleep-- The Day-spring from on high hath looked on us; And we, who linger militant on earth, Are one in Him, with those, the loved and lost, Whose early graves keep the red field they won Upon a stranger sh.o.r.e. Ah! not in vain Went up from many a wild Crimean ridge The soldier's pray'r, responsive to the vows Breathed far away in many an English home.
Not vain the awakened charities, that gush Through countless channels--Christian brotherhoods Of mercy; and that glorious sister-band Who sow by Death's chill waters!--Not in vain, My country! ever loved, but dearest now In this thine hour of sorrow, hast thou learnt To bow to Him who chastens. We must weep-- We may rejoice in weeping”
CHRISTMAS IN ABYSSINIA.
Wherever Englishmen are on the 25th of December, there is Christmas.
Whether it be in the icy regions of the Arctic zone, or in the sweltering heat of tropical suns.h.i.+ne, the coming round of the great feast brings with it to every Englishman a hearty desire to celebrate it duly. And if this cannot be done in exactly home-fas.h.i.+on, the festival is kept as happily as circ.u.mstances will allow. In this spirit did our soldiers keep Christmas in Abyssinia, in 1867, with the thermometer at seventy-five in the shade, and even here the edibles included at least one traditional dish--a joint of roast beef. There was also an abundance of spur-fowls, guinea-fowls, venison, mutton, &c., and the place in which the festive board was spread was decorated with branches of fir and such other subst.i.tutes for holly and mistletoe as could be found.
CHRISTMAS-KEEPING IN INDIA
at different periods shows the same determination of our British soldiers to honour the Christmas festival.
In 1857, the saviours of our Indian Empire very nearly lost their Christmas. The army was encamped at Intha, within sight of Nepaul, waiting for the rain to clear off and the tents to dry, ere it moved on to drive the Sepoys into the Raptee. The skies cleared on Christmas morning, and Lord Clyde was for marching at once, but relented in time to save the men's puddings from being spoiled--not only relented, but himself gave a Christmas banquet, at which the favoured guests sat down to well-served tables laden with barons of beef, turkeys, mutton, game, fish, fowls, plum-puddings, mince-pies, &c. To allay the thirst such substantial fare created, appeared beakers of pale ale from Burton and Glasgow; porter from London and Dublin; champagne, moselle, sherry, and old port, 'rather bothered by travelling twenty miles a day on a camel back.' Following the chief's example, each regiment had a glorious spread, and throughout the wide expanse of tents sounds of rejoicing were heard, for the soldiers kept Christmas right merrily.
Similarly,