Celebrating the New Year

In honor of New Year's Eve 2016, I wanted to share some thoughts on celebrations of the past, and images of New Year's postcards from the early 20th century. 

New Year's Day

The day devoted is to mirth,

And now around the social hearth,

Friendship unlocks her genial springs,

And harmony her lyre new strings;

While plenty spreads her copious hoard,

And piles and crowns the festive board.

--from The New York Herald, January 1, 1802

 

Excerpt From "A Passing-Bell for New Year's Festivity 

     Aside from the celebration of the day proper, New Year's Eve has usually had a celebration of its own. On this holy night the Druids cut the sacred mistletoe from an oak in the sacred forest, for distribution among the people the next day.

     The Eve has been called "Singing E'en," from the carols that made it vocal. Some churches call it "Watch Night". The congregations meet and pray till five minutes of twelve; there is complete silence and prayer then trill the clock tolls in the New Year, and with its last stroke a joyous hymn bursts forth. The Catholics and many other denominations mark the night with special service.

     In ancient Gallic times, crowds of fantastically garbed men and women ran about begging. They disturbed the vigils of the churches so much , that in 1598  an edict was published forbidding their entrance. Then they roved so freely under their chief "Rollet Follet," and caused such anguish to the sedate and the timid that the legislature forbade their frolic altogether in 1668. Among the French the day is far more hilariously treated than among us. They call it the day--"le jour de l'an."

     The Wassail-bowl was the fountain of all English drinking-songs, and an altar of poetry and mirth generally. It comes from an old Saxon greeting , wes hal!--be hale! A bowl of special ale or other cheering liquor was passed around among the family, and each, as he drank, toasted the rest with a beaming wes hal! The poor used to carry about a brightly beribboned bowl, wherein the charitable would throw money, which the wizard at the tavern would transform into good stout drink.

     In Nottinghamshire the young women, in their best smocks, carried a bowl to friendly doors and sang especial songs. in Derbyshire, the hostess drops her wedding-ring into the punch or "posset," and each of the party, as he takes his ladleful, tries mightily to scoop up the ring to insure marriage before the New Year is itself rung out....

--by Marmaduke Humphrey, 

from Godey's Magazine, January 1896

    

A New Year's Eve Frolic

(As shared by Mamie Dickens, 

daughter of Charles Dickens)

     One morning--it was the last day of the year, I remember--while we were at breakfast at "Gad's Hill," my father suggested that we should celebrate the evening by a charade to be acted in pantomime. The suggestion was received with acclamation, and amid shouts and laughing we were then and there, guests and members of the family, allotted our respective parts. 

     My father went about collecting "stage properties," rehearsals were "called" at least four times during the morning, and in all our excitement no thought was given to that necessary part of a charade, the audience, whose business it is to guess the pantomime. At luncheon someone asked suddenly: "But what about an audience?" "Why , bless my soul," said my father, "I'd forgotten all about that." 

     Invitations were quickly dispatched to our neighbors, and additional preparations made for supper. In due time the audience came, and the charade was acted so successfully that the evening stands out in my memory as one of the merriest and happiest of the many merry and happy evenings in our dear old home. My father was so extremely funny in his part that the rest of us found it almost impossible to maintain sufficient control over ourselves to enable the pantomime to proceed as it was planned to do.

     It wound up with a country dance, which had been invented that morning and practiced quite a dozen times through the day, and which was concluded at just a few moments before midnight. Then leading us all, characters and audience, out into the wide hall, and throwing open wide the door, my father, watch in hand, stood waiting to hear the bells ring in the New Year. 

     All was hush and silence after the laughter and merriment! Suddenly the peal of bells sounded, and turning he said: "A happy New Year to us all! God bless us." Kisses, good wishes and shaking of hands brought us again back to the fun and gaiety of a few moments earlier. Supper was served, the hot mulled wine drunk in toasts, and the maddest and wildest of "Sir Roger de Coverlys" ended our evening and began our New Year.

--from The Ladies' Home Journal, December 1892

 

New Year's Eve Celebration

     Have your decorations in holiday red, holly, poinsettias, etc. Soon after your guests arrive, hand them slips of paper and pencils and ask each one to write slang phrases. Allow five minutes for this, then collect the papers, which should be duly signed, and award the first prize to the one who knows the least and the consolation to the one who knows the most....

     Next provide the guests with paper and pencils, then read aloud ten letters of the alphabet so the guests can write them in the order in which they are given. Now request each one to write a New year's resolution of ten words, each beginning with one of the letters used and in the order in which they were given out.

     About ten minutes before twelve let the hostess seat her guests around a large table, blindfold each one and place a lighted candle in front of each. If candlesticks are lacking one can use apples or turnips hollowed out. On the first stroke of midnight and simultaneously with each stroke of the clock each one of the guests in turn must try to blow out the light before her or him. 

     Only one trial is to be allowed each one. For those who succeed there may be a prize. A pretty Scotch custom that may be introduced here is to put a big dictionary on a bed of holly after midnight, then each one blindfolded should be led to the book and told to open at any page and select a word at random. This word must be read aloud and will be held to predict in some way what the future has in store for the one who makes the test. After this refreshments can be served. It is always a pretty idea to open the windows at the stroke of twelve to let the old year out and the new one in, while all stand to welcome the newcomer and drink to the health of all present.

--from The Book of Frolics For All Occasions

by Mary Dawson and Emma Paddock Telford (1911) 

   

New Year’s Eve in San Francisco During WWI

     “On account of the war there won’t be the usual big New Year’s Eve celebration.” The remark was heard on many sides prior to December 31; but on investigation one found that it was made by habitual stay-at-homes. As a matter of fact, this celebration was the biggest we have ever had. It was not as noisy as some—an indication that we have learned the real carnival style. And it was not as wild as some—proof that we are getting more sensible. But in point of numbers it beat all records. And in point of elaborateness it left the preceding celebrations far, far behind.

     The St. Francis and Palace had larger throngs than ever; the Fairmont had a very large celebration, for the first time; and the Whitcomb celebrated its first New Year’s Eve with every foot of public floor space jammed. So much for the hotels. The cafes were packed to the last seat all night long. The streets were thronged as usual. And the Civic Auditorium held fifteen thousand people, its record gathering. Nobody forgot that we were at war. Indeed, soldiers and sailors, both officers and enlisted men, were numerously in evidence everywhere, having the time of their lives. Patriotism flamed up as the minutes sped from 1917 to 1918. It was a bully night.

     One interesting feature of the celebration was the remarkably large number of strangers who came to town. They came from the dry (alcohol-free) states in droves. Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Utah and Arizona sent great numbers to our hospitable city.

     Soldiers have learned that they can celebrate and have a good time without the inspiration of bubbling wine; but civilians still feel the need of stimulation when they see the old year out and the new year in. So the dry states gave of their citizenship that night, and San Francisco was host extraordinary.  The records of the police show that there was a very small outbreak of intemperance that night—smaller than ever before. Among those who drank to excess were a good many visitors from dry territory. That of course was to be expected. It is a psychological condition too well known to need elucidation.

--from "Social Prattle" by Tantalus, 

from The San Francisco Daily Times, January 5, 1918