Part 46 (1/2)
”It seemed strange writing to friends at home wis.h.i.+ng them 'a happy Christmas,' when we seemed scarcely to have done with summer.
”There was certainly a good deal of novelty in our mode of pa.s.sing Christmas-time in Ajaccio.
”We had expressed the wish to be present at midnight ma.s.s, in the cathedral, on Christmas Eve, and our kind hostess readily promised to take us, and also said we should have a _pet.i.t souper_ with her on our return. She told us afterwards that she had spoken to the organist, and obtained permission for us to go into the organ-loft, where we should have a good view over the church, and not be inconvenienced by the crowd. Accordingly, a little before eleven o'clock, we all went downstairs, and, accompanied by madame, as well as by a gentleman and his daughter, friends of hers, proceeded to the cathedral.
”As there is no gas in Ajaccio, the church of course is lighted only with candles, and very dim and gloomy it looked, especially at first, and during a dull monotonous kind of chanting, which we were told were the offices to the Virgin.
”By and by, as midnight drew near, and the ma.s.s was about to commence, a great number of candles were lighted on the high altar and in the side chapels, and the scene became more brilliant and animated. We looked down upon a perfect sea of heads, the women all wearing the national handkerchiefs, many of these of bright colours, and making them conspicuous among the men, of whom there were also a very large number.
”At length the organ struck up, the higher priests entered, wearing their richest robes, followed by numerous attendants. Each bowed and knelt as he pa.s.sed the altar, and took his allotted place, and then the service began. At one point, supposed to be the moment of our Saviour's birth, there was quite an uproar. The people clapped their hands, and stamped, and shouted, trumpets sounded, and the organ pealed forth its loudest tones.
”Then there was a very sweet hymn-tune played, and some beautiful voices sang Adeste Fideles, which was by far the most pleasing part of the service to our minds. Next came the reading of the Gospel, with much formality of kissing and bowing, and incensing; the book was moved from side to side and from place to place; then one priest on his knees held it up above his head, while another, sitting, read a short pa.s.sage, and a third came forward to the front of the enclosed s.p.a.ce near the altar, flinging the censer round and about. Then the little bell tinkled, and all that ma.s.s of heads bowed down lower, the Host was raised, the communion taken by the priests, and at one o'clock all was over.
”We gladly regained the fresh air, which, though rather cold, was much needed after the close atmosphere of the crowded cathedral. The moon was very bright, and we hastened home with appet.i.tes sharpened by our walk, for what proved to be a handsome dinner, rather than a _pet.i.t souper_.
”For ourselves, we did not forget the old home custom of Christmas decorations, and took some pains to dress our _salon_ with evergreens, which we brought down from the hills the previous day. Although we had neither holly nor mistletoe, we found good subst.i.tutes for them in the elegant-leaved lentiscus, the tree heath and sweetly perfumed myrtle; while round the mirror and a picture of the Virgin on the opposite wall we twined garlands of the graceful sarsaparilla. The whole looked extremely pretty, and gave quite a festive appearance to the room.
”On Christmas Day we joined some English friends for a walk, about eleven o'clock. It was a charming morning, bright and hot, as we strolled along the sh.o.r.e to the orange-garden of Barbacaja, where we gathered oranges fresh from the trees.
”On returning home to dinner no plum-pudding or mince-pies awaited us certainly, but we had tolerably good beef, for a wonder, and lamb, _merles_, and new potatoes.
”Christmas Day in Corsica is observed by the people as a religious festival, but not as a social one; and there are no family gatherings as in England and Germany. This arises, no doubt, from that non-existence of true domestic life which must strike all English taking up a temporary residence in France.
”There was a succession of _fete_ days throughout Christmas week, when the shops were shut and the people dressed in holiday attire. But the great day to which every one seems to look forward is the first of the year, _le Jour de l'An_. Presents are then made by everybody to everybody, and visits of congratulation, or merely of ceremony, received and expected. The gifts are sometimes costly and handsome, but generally they are trifling, merely valuable as works of remembrance, consisting chiefly of bonbons, boxes of crystallised fruits, and other confectionery.”
CHRISTMAS IN CHIOS.
[Ill.u.s.tration: From an ivory, Byzantine. British Museum ]
The preceding ill.u.s.tration of Eastern art belongs to the same period as many of the Christmas customs which have survived in Chios, and it carries our thoughts back to the time when Byzantium was the capital of the Greek Empire in the east. From an interesting account by an English writer in the _Cornhill Magazine_, for December, 1886, who spent a Christmas amongst the Greeks of this once prosperous isle of Chios, it appears that, two days before Christmas, he took up his quarters at ”the village of St. George, a good day's journey from the town, on the slopes of a backbone of mountains, which divides Chios from north to south.” On the morning following the arrival at St.
George, ”echoes of home” were heard which caused the writer to exclaim: ”Surely they don't have Christmas waits here.” Outside the house stood a crowd of children singing songs and carrying baskets.
From the window, the mistress of the house was seen standing amongst the children ”talking hard, and putting handfuls of something into each basket out of a bag.” ”On descending,” says the writer, ”I inquired the cause of this early invasion, and learnt that it is customary on the day before Christmas for children to go round to the houses of the village early, before the celebration of the liturgy, and collect what is called 'the luck of Christ'--that is to say, walnuts, almonds, figs, raisins, and the like. Every housewife is careful to have a large stock of these things ready overnight, and if children come after her stock is exhausted she says, 'Christ has taken them and pa.s.sed by.' The urchins, who are not always willing to accept this excuse, revile her with uncomplimentary remarks, and wish her cloven feet, and other disagreeable things.”
The writer visited the chief inhabitants of St. George, and was regaled with ”spoonfuls of jam, cups of coffee, and gla.s.ses of mastic liquer”; and, in a farmyard, ”saw oxen with scarlet horns,” it being the custom, on the day before Christmas, for ”every man to kill his pig, and if he has cattle to anoint their horns with blood, thereby securing their health for the coming year.
”It is very interesting to see the birthplace of our own Christmas customs here in Greece, for it is an undoubted fact that all we see now in Greek islands has survived since Byzantine days. Turkish rule has in no way interfered with religious observances, and during four or five centuries of isolation from the civilised world the conservative spirit of the East has preserved intact for us customs as they were in the early days of Christianity; inasmuch as the Eastern Church was the first Christian Church, it was the parent of all Christian customs. Many of these customs were mere adaptations of the pagan to the Christian ceremonial--a necessary measure, doubtless, at a time when a new religion was forced on a deeply superst.i.tious population. The saints of the Christian took the place of the G.o.ds of the ”Iliad.” Old customs attending religious observances have been peculiarly tenacious in these islands, and here it is that we must look for the pedigree of our own quaint Christian habits. We have seen the children of St. George collecting their Christmas-boxes, we have spoken of pig-killing, and we will now introduce ourselves to Chiote Christmas-trees, the _rhamnae_, as they are called here, which take the form of an offering of fruits of the earth and flowers by tenants to their landlords.
”The form of these offerings is varied: one tenant we saw chose to make his in the shape of a tripod; others merely adorn poles, but all of them effect this decoration in a similar fas.h.i.+on, more gaudily than artistically. The pole is over a yard in height, and around it are bound wreaths of myrtle, olive, and orange leaves; to these are fixed any flowers that may be found, geraniums, anemones, and the like, and, by way of further decoration, oranges, lemons, and strips of gold and coloured paper are added.
”On Christmas morning the tenants of the numerous gardens of Chios proceed to the houses of their landlords, riding on mules and carrying a _rhamna_ in front of them and a pair of fowls behind. As many as three hundred of these may be seen entering the capital of Chios on this day, and I was told the sight is very imposing. At St. George we had not so many of them, but sufficient for our purpose. On reaching his landlord's house the peasant sets up the trophy in the outer room, to be admired by all who come; the fowls he hands over to the housewife; and then he takes the large family jars or _amphorae_, as they still call them, to the well, and draws the drinking water for his landlord's Christmas necessities.
”In the afternoon each landlord gives 'a table' to his tenants, a good substantial meal, at which many healths are drunk, compliments exchanged, and songs sung, and before returning home each man receives a present of money in return for his offerings. A Greek never gives a present without expecting an equivalent in return.”
Another Christmas custom in Chios which reminded the writer of the English custom of carol-singing is thus described: ”There are five parishes in the village of St. George, each supplied with a church, priests, acolytes, and candle-lighters, who answer to our vergers, and who are responsible for the lighting of the many lamps and candles which adorn an Eastern church. These good people a.s.semble together on Christmas Day, after the liturgy is over, and form what is called 'a musical company'; one man is secured to play the lyre, another the harp, another the cymbals, and another leads the singing--if the monotonous chanting in which they indulge can be dignified by the t.i.tle of singing. The candle-lighter, armed with a bra.s.s tray, is the recognised leader of this musical company, and all day long he conducts them from one house to another in the parish to play, sing, and collect alms. These musicians of St. George have far more consideration for the feelings of their fellow-creatures than English carol-singers, for the candle-lighter is always sent on ahead to inquire of the household they propose to visit if there is mourning in the house, or any other valid reason why the musicians should not play, in which case the candle-lighter merely presents his tray, receives his offering, and pa.s.ses on. Never, if they can help it, will a family refuse admission to the musicians. They have not many amus.e.m.e.nts, poor things, and their Christmas entertainment pleases them vastly.
”The carols of these islands are exceedingly old-world and quaint.
When permission is given the troupe advance towards the door, singing a sort of greeting as follows: 'Come now and open your gates to our party; we have one or two sweet words to sing to you.' The door is then opened by the master of the house; he greets them and begs them to come in, whilst the other members of the family place chairs at one end of the room, on which the musicians seat themselves. The first carol is a genuine Christmas one, a sort of religious recognition of the occasion, according to our notions fraught with a frivolity almost bordering on blasphemy; but then it must be remembered that these peasants have formed their own simple ideas of the life of Christ, the Virgin, and the saints, to which they have given utterance in their songs. A priest of St. George kindly supplied me with the words of some of their carols, and this is a translation of one of the prefatory songs with which the musical company commence:--