Christmas on Trial!

The original "War on Christmas"!  This year's stocking stuffer looks at England's Christmas ban from 1647 to 1660 and at a rather quirky pamphlet entitled "The Examination and Trial of Old Father Christmas."  Season's greetings, Litterbugs!

Transcript

Ho, ho, ho!  Humbugs and grinches!  Happy holidays, litterbugs!  I hope this festive season finds you better than you ever dreamed possible!  I’m sliding down the chimney to stuff your stocking with a bonus episode from the hard-working elves at the Classic English Literature Subcast.

But before I munch your cookies and slurp your cocoa – hmmm, that didn’t sound right – I want to send a big thank you to friend of the show Helen B for her recent gift.  Thank you, Helen, thank you.  I really appreciate your generosity and your support.

Today’s minisode is, in small part, a response to a message Helen sent me regarding the last show on the English Civil Wars.  She maintains that England owes a debt to Oliver Cromwell and the Parliamentary cause for rooting out the pernicious doctrine of royal divine right and that historiography dwells too much on Cromwell’s darker side.  And while I am no fan of Jolly Olly, I am happy to concede that under Cromwell’s Protectorate, England did bend the arc of morality a bit more toward justice.

To wit: Cromwell’s administration introduced the Instrument of Government (1653), considered the first written constitution in English history. It didn’t last long, but it was a genuine attempt to define governance through law rather than monarchy.  Furthermore, Oliver Cromwell played a significant role in lifting the ban on Jews in England. The ban had been in place since 1290, when King Edward I issued the Edict of Expulsion. In 1655, a prominent Dutch Jewish rabbi and scholar called Menasseh ben Israel, petitioned Cromwell to allow Jews to return to England. Cromwell was sympathetic, seeing the readmission of Jews as advantageous for economic reasons and as a way to align England with biblical prophecy.  The Whitehall Conference in 1655 debated the issue, but resistance from some among the merchant and clerical classes forestalled any formal decision. Despite this, Cromwell permitted Jews to settle quietly and practice their faith unbothered. Over time, small Jewish communities began to reestablish themselves in England, particularly in London.

So there, fair dues for Mr. Warty-Nose.

You know, if you ask the average teenager what they think of Oliver Cromwell, they’ll tilt their head in that curious way a confused puppy does and ask if he’s on TikTok.  But if you asked a person who was reared before the plague of the social mind virus struck, you’d more than likely get one of two answers: 1) wasn’t he the guy who made up the saying “warts and all”; and 2) wasn’t he the guy who banned Christmas?

Let’s take them in order.  Yes, indeed, the OC is associated with the phrase “warts and all.”  According to a popular anecdote, Cromwell commissioned a portrait by Sir Peter Lely and supposedly instructed the artist to paint him as he truly was, without any flattery, saying something like: "Paint me as I am, warts and all."  We are to take from this Cromwell’s pragmatic bluntness and unpretentious authenticity.  Did he actually say it?  Who really knows, but it has the ring of truth even if it’s not entirely factual.

Did he ban Christmas?  Well, no, he did not.  Another example of Cromwell Derangement Syndrome and another point for Helen’s case.  I should like to stress this fact, however: Cromwell himself did not ban Christmas, but it was banned during his rule.

Here’s the skinny:

Puritans believed that Christmas had become overly associated with Catholic traditions and practices, which they sought to reform or eliminate.  Christmas, they argued, had no biblical mandate and the Bible does not command its celebration.  If it had been really important, surely St. Matthew or St. Luke would have recorded the date so we could all get our birthday cards posted in time.  More seriously, Puritans disapproved of the festive, often rowdy celebrations associated with Christmas: feasting, drinking, dancing, and generally enjoying life. They viewed such enjoyment as ungodly.  As far as these funsuckers were concerned, the Ten Commandments could be edited by 90%.  “Thou shalt not.”  Full Stop.

But the legislative fruits from this withered tree came to bear before Oliver stomped his way into the Lord Protectorate.  In fact, Christmas had been banned in 1644, under King Charles, as it fell on a day of national abstinence.  Occasionally, in the early modern period, during times of great crisis or calamity, kings and governments would call for days of fasting and atonement to appease the righteous wrath of God.  One of those mandated days in 1644 fell on Christmas, and so the holiday was not marked.  Even the most staunch Cavalier can not hold Cromwell to account for that.

The official and semi-permanent ban on Christmas happened in 1647, on December 25, in fact.  In “The Ordinance for Abolishing of Festivals,” the Puritan Parliament declared: 

Be it Ordained, by the Lords and Commons in Parliament assembled, That the said Feast of the Nativity of Christ, Easter and Whitsuntide, and all other Festival dayes, commonly called Holy-dayes, be no longer observed as Festivals or Holy-dayes within this Kingdome of England and Dominion of Wales.

But again, Cromwell was only an MP at the time – wouldn’t be Lord Protector for another five years – so while he supported the ordinance, he can’t really be fully held responsible for it.  But for thirteen years, until the Restoration of 1660, no stockings were hung by the chimney with care, no feasts, no wassailing.  Lean times, my friends, lean times.

Some of my legal eagle listeners will no doubt have detected in this Yuletide proscription a terrific miscarriage of justice.  Surely this ban is an instance of capricious tyranny, a unilateral imposition on Father Christmas in which the accused had no opportunity to face his accusers, to put his case, to plead in his own defense.  What of Magna Carta?  What of the rule of law enshrined in Parliament’s own “Instrument of Government” and defended in Milton’s “Eikonoklastes”?  Certainly a black stain on the golden thread that runs through British justice.

In 1658, a pamphlet circulated intending to right this egregious wrong.  Titled “The examination and tryall of Old Father Christmas At the assizes held at the town of Difference, in the county of Discontent. Written according to legal proceeding, by Josiah King,” the pamphlet is a satirical swipe at Puritanical austerity, putting Father Christmas himself on trial to defend his existence and practices. Allegorical Puritan figures accuse him of promoting idolatry, indulgence, and debauchery. Father Christmas responds with wit, arguing that his traditions foster community and joy rather than sin.  

As a side note, I should point out that while we generally credit Josiah King with authorship, we really can’t be sure that he actually is responsible for the text.  In fact, we really can’t be sure that a Josiah King ever existed – he may be a fictionalized persona standing in for a number of collaborative and anonymous writers with Royalist sympathies.  I offer this only as a caveat – it seems simpler to me to accept the attribution, but I did want to note that it may be only speculative.

At any rate, King (let’s just follow William of Ockham’s example and shave away needless complexity) presents the transcripts of a trial in which several Puritan jurors and witnesses accuse Father Christmas of encouraging hedonism and heathenism.  The record opens with several brief letters to the Worshipful John Hodge, Doctor of Physick, Captain Thomas Prinne, Momus, the Critic, and finally one to the “Honest Reader.”  These letters frame the satire to come, using the grave language of official documents to heighten the coming irony.

The trial opens with the clerk of the court calling the members of the jury, who have the subtle allegorical names we are used to finding in medieval works such as “Piers Plowman” or “Everyman.”  These names are barbed: Mr. Starve-mouse, Mr. Keep-all, Mr. Hoard-corn, and so on.  At the impanelling of the juror, suddenly Father Christmas swoons, and the people in the gallery make clamorous uproar:

the grave old Gentleman Christmas, did sound at the naming of the Jury; then it was Commanded that they should give him air, and comfort him up, so that hee might plead for himself: and here I cannot passe by in silence the love that was expressed by the Country people, some shreeking and crying for the old man; others striving to hold him up, others hugging him, till they had almost broke the back of him, others running for Cordials and strong wa­ters, insomuch that at last they had call'd back his wandring spirits, which were ready to take their last farewell.

The old recovers himself thanks to the ministrations of the good common folk, and pleads to be allowed a barrister to argue his case.  This the judge concedes, saying, “in regard that thou wert a merry old man when I was but a Boy, and did often at thy comming make me sport, I have granted thy request, choose thy Councellor.”

The lawyer immediately moves to dismiss the jury as “there is not one of them a Free-man, and all mortal enemies to this old Gentleman.”  The Counselor proceeds to accuse the various jurymen of all manner of hypocritical malefactions.  To support these accusations, he calls witnesses such as Humility, and has a new jury summoned with names like Love-friend, Good-work, and Merry-man.

The case against the accused proceeds.  The Clerk reads out the indictment:

thou art here Indited by the name of Christmas, of the Town of Super­stition in the County of Idolatry, and that thou hast from time to time abused the peo­ple of this Common-wealth, drawing and in­ticing them to Drunkennesse, Gluttony, and unlawful Gaming, Wantonnesse, Uncleanness, Lasciviousness, Cursing, Swearing, abuse of the Creatures, some to one Vice, and some to another, all to Idleness: what sayest thou to thy Inditement, guilty, or not guilty? 

The plea is, of course, not guilty.  A witness called Grutchmeat accuses Christmas of being “a great waster and spendthrift.”  Pinchgut witnesses to the accused’s epicureanism, saying “all his delight is to please his Pallat, his throat is an open Se­pulchre, he is the Canker of the Common­wealth.”  Allwork testifies that Christmas defies the Sabbath commandment, arguing that we were made “to work six days, and this old villain would perswade us to play twelve: he teaches also revelling and rebellion, we cannot bear any rule with our servants when he come, for if we command them to fol­low their work, they will murmur and deny it, saying is it not Christmas time?”  Many other witnesses come forth with their litany of po-faced charges.

All in all, grave accusations, dear listeners: sedition, sloth, blasphemy, luxury.  Threats to body, soul, and state.  Certainly we now see the paternal wisdom of Parliament’s exile of this dangerous old man.  

Finally, the defendant is allowed to testify on his own behalf.  His first objection is that he has been misidentified in the indictment: “I am wronged in be­ing indited by a wrong name. I am corrupt­ly called Christmas, my name is Christ­tide, or time.”  You may wonder why he makes this correction.  Christmas is an example of what’s called by linguists lexicalization, or semantic compounding: the combination and transformation of two or more words into a new, standalone term. Think of how the word “good-bye” derives from the phrase “God be with you” or how “o’clock” used to be “of the clock.”  The phrase used to be “Christ’s Mass,” which obviously have very heavy Catholic overtones.  Such a name would not fly in a Puritanical regime that saw Catholicism as tantamount to paganism.  So the name change emphasizes a Protestant character.  Father Christmas (sic) distances himself from problematic identities, which sets the stage for his peculiarly Protestant interpretation of Christian virtues such as faith, hope, and charity.

He appeals to scriptural authority for his orthodoxy, saying, “the Angels rejoyc'd at my coming, and sung gloria in excelsis: The Patriarcks, and Prophets; longed to see me.”  He appeals to Magna Carta, argues he provides hospitality and occasions for thankfulness, that feasting should aim at satisfaction, not indulgence, and if people cannot be so moderate, why should the guilt fall upon him?  Father Christmas wearies of speaking and his counselor finishes the defense:

Me thinks my Lord, the very Clouds blush, to see this old Gentleman thus egre­giously abused if at any time any have abu­sed themselves by immoderate eating, and drinking or otherwise spoil the creatures, it is none of this old mans fault; neither ought he to suffer for it; for example the Sun and the Moon are by the heathens worship'ped, are they therefore bad because idolized? so if any abuse this old man, they are bad for abusing him, not he bad, for being abused.

The counselor calls witnesses Simon Servant, Peter Poor, and Nicholas Neighborhood to give a character to Father Christmas, and then . . . the text ends.  Yes, dear listeners, the final two pages are missing from the manuscript.  I have consulted two online versions: one from the Bodleian Library at Oxford and another from the University of Michigan and we just don’t have any resolution.  At least in this 1658 edition.  “The Examination and Trial of Old Father Christmas” appeared in another edition in the late 1680s, well after the Restoration, and a happy ending was appended in which Father Christmas triumphs, leaves the courtroom victorious, with the support of "honest men,” symbolizing the endurance and revival of festive traditions.  The Puritans leave in "discontent" as Christmas is restored to its rightful place.

Such an ending certainly seems reasonable and something very like it probably was in the original edition – the narrative arc certainly seems to bend in that direction, but the 1686 version definitely reinforces the Restoration narrative: that joy and tradition had returned after the "dark days" of Puritan rule, an allegory for the broader cultural and political restoration of traditional customs and the monarchy.

So, good news, for all of you who celebrate Christmas.  I hope you all, whatever and however you celebrate your traditions, have a happy holiday season.  Thank you so much for your time and support.  I am very grateful.  Be well, and I’ll see you next year.