Rutland family.
The following mottoes, in large letters, were conspicuous, 'Long live
the Duke of Rutland,' 'Long live Lord and Lady John Manners and
family,' and 'A Merry Christmas to you all.' These were enclosed in a
neat border. From the top of the room were suspended long festoons of
linked ribbons of red, white, blue, and orange. All present thoroughly
enjoyed themselves, as it was the wish of his Grace they should do."

Similar hospitalities are dispensed by other noblemen and gentlemen in
different parts of the country at Christmas.

* * * * *

The lordly hospitality of Lincolnshire is depicted in

"THE BARON'S YULE FEAST:

A Christmas Rhyme; by Thomas Cooper, the Chartist" (1846); which is
inscribed to the Countess of Blessington, and in the advertisement the
author offers "but one apology for the production of a metrical essay,
composed chiefly of imperfect and immature pieces: The ambition to
contribute towards the fund of Christmas entertainment." The scene of
the Baron's Yule Feast is depicted in Torksey's Hall, Torksey being
one of the first towns in Lincolnshire in the Saxon period. After some
introductory verses the writer says:

"It is the season when our sires
Kept jocund holiday;
And, now, around our charier fires,
Old Yule shall have a lay:--
A prison-bard is once more free;
And, ere he yields his voice to thee,
His song a merry-song shall be!

Sir Wilfrid de Thorold freely holds
What his stout sires held before--
Broad lands for plough and fruitful folds,--
Though by gold he sets no store;
And he saith, from fen and woodland wolds
From marish, heath, and moor,--
To feast in his hall
Both free and thrall,
Shall come as they came of yore.

* * * * *

Now merrily ring the lady-bells
Of the nunnery by the Fosse:--
Say the hinds their silver music swells
'Like the blessed angels' syllables,
At His birth who bore the cross.'

And solemnly swells Saint Leonard's chime
And the great bell loud and deep:--
Say the gossips, 'Let's talk of the holy time
When the shepherds watched their sheep;
And the Babe was born for all souls' crime
In the weakness of flesh to weep.'--
But, anon, shrills the pipe of the merry mime
And their simple hearts upleap.

'God save your souls, good Christian folk!
God save your souls from sin!--
Blythe Yule is come--let us blyt