Old Victorian Christmas Image

The little Ouralian chain of mountains called by Russians “Semenoi Poias,” or the girdle of the earth, has given birth to a remarkable figure. The Baboushka lived there eighteen hundred years ago. The Baboushka lives there still.

As this Christmas legend of a woman is little known, let me translate for you the tale of an old Russian woman.

At the foot of the world’s girdle, surrounded by bushes of wild apricot, cherry, gooseberry, and currant, stood a small mud cottage. Its roof was shadowed by a graceful elm-tree. Before its door slept, for eight months in the year, a frozen stream. Its one window commanded a wide view of the distant plains. Its one chimney emitted smoke of a faint, blue colour. Its one inhabitant was the Baboushka!

The Baboushka was a “mujic” or peasant. She wore a caftan of coarsely woven wire-cloth edged with fur. Her boots were of untanned leather and reached to her knees. Her hair, braided in tiny plaits, hung beneath a helmet of undressed skins, while down her back was fastened a hood of sheep wool.

One morning, many, many years ago, the Baboushka was busy at her daily tasks. The samooa (or tea-urn) had to be brightened. The lemons had to be sliced. The rye seeds had to be bruised for her daily supply of black bread. The frozen butter in a keg had to be thawed.

Suddenly, from far up the world’s girdle, the Baboushka heard a sound of sleigh bells. They came on but slowly, not driven like the wind as usual.

Then down the hillside swept a long procession. Camels were there from the east country with humps and leathery necks. Tamed wolves from the Steppes were there. Horses were there, stepping daintily through the dazzling snow; above all hung the northern lights, yellow, green, and red.

The Baboushka tried to hide herself. Then stopped the procession at her door; and one, a very beautiful one, called out her name.

“Baboushka, come with us! We are on our way to find the Christ-Child.”

But the flame-coloured tunic of the beautiful one frightened the old woman.

“I will come, but not now,” she pleaded, stretching up her hands. “I have my house to set in order; when this is done I will follow and find Him.”

Thus the first one thousand past. The second wiseman in his cloak of divers colours stopped at her door.

“Baboushka! We are on our way to find the Christ-Child. We have seen His star in the east. Come with us?”

But the Baboushka trembled still more. The animal figures on the robe of the terrible one frightened her.

“I will come, but not now.” she replied. “I have my house to set in order. When this is done, I will follow and find him.”

When the second thousand had passed, the third magi stopped at her door. His robe of deep yellow, bordered with white, azure, and green, shone in the light.

“Baboushka, come with us! We are on our way to find the Christ-Child. We have seen His star in the east and go down to worship Him.”

But the Baboushka quaked exceedingly.

“I will come, but not now,” she promised. “I have to set my house in order. When that is done, I will follow and find Him.”

Then across the wide desert went the three kings, the beautiful one, the terrible one, and the wise one.

The Baboushka set her house in order. She extinguished the charcoal and guarded the lamp, emptied the samooa and took up the cake-bread. Then she went outside. Alas! the three kings had long passed away. And in the darkened heavens no longer shone the star. Across the wild Steppes, stumbling wildly, fled the Baboushka.

The constellations twinkled. The northern lights blazed. The moon shone, but she heeded not. She wished to find the Christ-Child but found Him not.

Still lives the Baboushka. She searches still. For the sake of the Christ-Child, she takes care of all God’s children. On the eve of the Nativity she visits every house in which the little ones be. For His sake she fills their stockings and dresses the trees. Children are awakened by the cry, “Behold the Baboushka!” But though they find her gifts she has ever vanished.

In this way she searches for the Christ-Child whom once she neglected. In each poor little one whom she warms and feeds she hopes to find Him. But she is doomed to eternal disappointment. Never in her ears sounds the comforting “inasmuch.” Not until the stars of heaven are falling. Not till the Steppes of Russia roll away as a scroll. Not till the work of the centuries is done and all the world set in order, will the Baboushka find the Christ-Child.

Lina Orman Cooper, as published in The Girl’s Own Paper, 1892

Christmas, 19th Century European Postcard

T. F. Thiselton Dyer for The Girl’s Own Paper 1882

From all accounts Christmas seems to have been, from time immemorial, an important season with the elfin race, and many curious accounts of the festive merry doings of these fabled people in years gone by have been handed down to us. According to one popular notion, however mischievous and fond of frolic they might be at any other times in the year, they generally respected this sacred anniversary, for, as Shakespeare makes Marcellus say in Hamlet, Act i., Scene I:

“Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes,
Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;
No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm,
So hallowed and so gracious is the time.”

–the allusion in this passage being to the common superstition, so prevalent in former years, that often at night time the fairies took a healthy child from its cradle and left in its place one of their wretched starveling elves which never did kindly. Thus, it may be remembered how in Henry IV., Act i., Scene I, the king says:–

“O that it could be proved
That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged
In cradle-clothes our children, where they lay,
And called mine, Percy—his, Plantagenent!”

Although, however, the fairies may have refrained from actions of this kind at Christmas-tide, yet they seem to have indulged in other equally mischievous offences, the memory of which is still fresh in the mind of many a simple-minded, country peasant. At any rate, they generally have the reputation of showing extreme kindness to children at this time, trying, perhaps, to make some kind of atonement for their ill-natured pranks during the remainder of the year. Thus, there are few young people who have not, at some time in their life, anxiously looked forward to Christmas for many a week beforehand in the eager expectation of receiving from some generous fairy a present. Hence in our own and foreign countries, as Christmas Eve year by year comes round, the time-honored custom of hanging up a stocking to be, in some mysterious manner, filled with good things, is kept up, the little ones, on Christmas morning, so long as they find the stocking filled, being content to remain in happy ignorance as far as the donor is concerned. In many parts of Germany, where this custom is kept up with so much enthusiasm, numerous prints are sold at Christmastide, in which the good fairy is represented stealthily creeping into the sleeping apartments and filling the stocking hung up in anticipation of his arrival with all manner of dainty gifts. Indeed, in the eyes of German children, the present season would be a dull affair without this annual visit of the mysterious fairy whose generous liberality brightens and cheers oftentimes many a sickly little one whom illness of some kind has laid low.

In the north of Germany it is customary on Christmas Eve for a man to enter the room where the children are gathered together, disguised with a long beard, and enveloped in a large fur cloak. He asks the children whether they can pray, and if they stand the trial to his satisfaction he rewards them, with apples, nuts, and gingerbread, punishing, on the other hand, those with whom he is dissatisfied. This quaint custom varies in different localities, some of the versions of which Mr. Thorpe has given in his “Northern Mythology” (1852, vol. iii. p. 146). Thus, in some places, Rough Nicholas, as this mock fairy is called, carries with him a long staff and a bag of ashes; his clothes being ornamented with little bells, which serve as a warning of his approach. Occasionally, he rides from house to house through the village on a white horse, and not unfrequently is attended by a sort of Jack Pudding, as a companion. He is sometimes, too, accompanied by a band of fairies—young men grotesquely dressed up as old women, with blackened faces, one of the number personating a bear, and being led,–much to the juvenile merriment—by a long chain. In Westphalia, this custom is often renewed on New Year’s Day. In some localities it is known as the “Holy Christ,” usually a young girl clad entirely in white, who addresses the children, giving them words of good advice. To give one further illustration of this custom, it appears that, in certain districts, three persons perambulate the streets at Christmastide dressed up in fairy garb. One bears a rod and bag of ashes, and another carries the “klapperbock,” a pole on which a goat-skin is suspended, surmounted by a goat’s head of wood, to the under jaw of which a line is fastened, which, passing through the upper one, runs through the throat, so that when pulled by the bearer, the two jaws make a rattling noise. With this “klapperbock” naughty children are beaten, and oftentimes the good ones also; the object of the supposed fairies naturally being to create among the young folk as much laughter and merriment as possible. The third person rides on a white horse. We must not, however, omit to notice that in all the observances of this custom, Christmas presents, wrapped in almost countless coverings, are thrown at the door of the young persons to be gifted, the giver crying out “Julklapp.” As, therefore, the reader can imagine, as soon as it is known instantly on the qui vive, and every footstep outside the street-door is the signal for unbounded excitement. Although these fairy merry doings are little known in our own country, yet the yearly Christmas visit of Santa Klaus is a household fact which is, regularly every season, revived in the minds of our young people by the graphic pictures of this benevolent personage which appear in the annuals circulated at this time. Indeed, Mr. Henderson, in his “Folklore of the Northern Counties” (1879), speaks of a family in the north of England, the members of which, although children of a larger growth, have, year by year, been in the habit of suspending a stocking outside their bedroom door on Christmas Eve for Santa Klaus to fill.

One special way in which fairies are supposed to celebrate the festivities of Christmas among themselves is by dancing. Many curious stories are on record, which describe their merry antics, and the anger they display if by any chance interrupted in the midst of their revels. According to a Scandinavian piece of superstition, it is considered highly dangerous for any one to be out of doors on Christmas night; and should the peasant be compelled to go on an errand, he takes care to make use of all manner of charms, commonly supposed to render the malevolent designs of the fairy tale ineffectual. Thus we are told how, in Sweden, the trolls ride on Christmas Eve, one on a wolf, another on a broom or shovel, to their assemblies, where they dance under their stones. A Swedish legend relates how, one Christmas night, in the year 1490, as a lady was sitting in her mansion, a great noise was suddenly heard proceeding from the fairies as they were assembled no far-off. She immediately despatched one of her boldest servants to ascertain what was going on, who, on his arrival, found the fairy tribe busily engaged in dancing. On perceiving him, a beautiful young lady stepped forth, and presented to him a drinking horn and a pipe; requesting him to drink the fairy king’s health, and to blow in the pipe. He took the horn and pipe, but, without a moment’s delay, clapped spurs to his horse, and galloped straight away, over rough and smooth, to the house of his mistress. The fairies pursued him with wild cries and threats, but, regardless of their noise, he pursued his course and soon reached home. The fairies promised prosperity and riches to the lady’s family if she would restore the pipe and horn, a request with which she would not comply. Tradition, however, adds that the servant dies three days after, and the horse on the second day. The mansion has twice been burnt and the lady’s family has never prospered since this event. The drink, which the fairies were in the habit of offering their visitors so liberally, was believed to have the property of completely obliterating from the memory all the past, and of rendering the guest, who was foolish enough to partake of it, content with all he met with while under their baneful influence. There are numerous other traditions to the same effect current in Sweden. Thus we are told of some travelers who, when riding before daybreak by a mount on Christmas morning, while the fairies were keeping up their midnight minstrelsy and dancing, were confronted by a lovely damsel who offered them drink in metal bowls. Knowing, however, the properties of the beverage, they threw it away; its potency being proved by the fact that some drops which chanced to fall on the horse’s loins quickly burned the hair off.

The same tradition is preserved in Denmark under a variety of forms. Thus we read how, one Christmas Eve, a servant asked his master to let him ride and see the fairies’ merrymaking. The master at once granted his request, and allowed him to take the best horse in the stable. On reaching the spot he remained seated on his horse, lost in admiration at the fairy revels. Before long one of the them invited him to dismount and take part in their mirth. Another, too, came running up, who took his horse’s reins while he dismounted, and danced with them the whole night. As the morning drew nigh, he thanked them for their hospitality and mounted his horse, many of them, at the same time, inviting him to come again the following Christmas. Just, however, as he was leaving, a pretty damsel brought him a gold cup, asking him to taste their Christmas drink, but, feeling some mistrust, he threw the beverage away and rode off. He soon became aware that they were in pursuit of him, so, quickening his pace, he entered the village and reached home just as they were about to seize his horse’s reigns. Exasperated at being outdone, they hurled a great stone against the door with such force that four of the planks flew out. Although the house has long since fallen into decay, yet the stone still remains as a mark of the fairies’ anger. It is unnecessary to add further instances of this kind of fairly-lore, traces of which are to be found in Germany and our own country.

Christmas, as most of our readers know, has from time immemorial, been considered a season especially favourable for divinations of every kind; hence it is still customary, in England and foreign countries, for young ladies to seek to gain some clue as to their matrimonial prospects. According to a popular notion, fairies are supposed to be very fond of assisting in such ceremonies, and oftentimes, it is said, their known presence renders many a charm successful which would otherwise be ineffectual. Tradition says that at Christmas time the fairy-race is full of goodwill to mankind, provided that mortals do not, in a meddlesome curiosity, molest them in their revels and festivities. It would be well if all fictions were as harmless as those about the fairies.