1^EE1>HAM Qfarnell UnioKraity Sithrarg BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 Cornell University Library PN 3205.N37 3 1924 027 027 592 M^ Cornell University ^'' J Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924027027592 FOLK FESTIVALS FOLK FESTIVALS Their Growth and How to Give Them BY MARY MASTER NEEDHAM NEW YORK B. W. HUEBSCH 1912 Copyright, 191a, by B. W. HUEBSCH PRINTED IN D. S, A. TO MY MOTHER IN GRATITUDE FOR HER ETERNAL YOUTH AND UNFAILING UNDERSTANDING, I PLACE THIS GIFT UPON HER ALTAR PREFACE It is with the hope that this fruit of my own experiences may inspire others to blaze trails, that I send out Folk Festivals. Not in any way does it aim to be exhaustive. Rather the mate- rial has been chosen with the idea that it may create a desire to give festivals, and at the same time furnish a working basis for them. Because I firmly believe that the value of this move- ment must be in its research, its spontaneity, and its creativeness, I have so limited the material. At the same time I have tried to make the book practical for those who are pioneers both in their interest and in their work on festivals. To my pupils to whom I went to school, I owe much. To Miss Esther Braley and to Mr. Frank A. Manny, I am indebted for help in blazing my own trail. Not only did they give me courage at the start, but they have stayed by me along the path. Without the active and faithful Inter- est of Mr. William Hard the book would not have been written. For the great task of reading PREFACE my manuscript I owe a commensurate gratitude to Mr. H. K. Bassett and to Mr. Manny. And for the encouragement and interest which made the daily work in it possible, I am indebted to my husband. M. M. N. Evanston, 111. February i, 19 12. VI FOREWORD A barber in a Philadelphia club sighed as he said to me recently, " The World's great events" are all over ! " It took me a moment to regain myself sufficiently to realize that he was discussing baseball! Few interests and activities are so thoroughly social as some of the popular sports and games. Within a few hours after a great contest a hundred thousand people are awakened and thrilled as little else could stir them, so de- pendent upon others have they become for oppor- tunities for experiences which carry with them strong emotions. This widespread common interest is a great gain but we need much more general participa- tion. Children and adults alike must be active themselves to gain the re-creation and growth of imagination and invention they require. It is this that gives to them that prolongation of the period of growth so necessary to give balance and mean- ing to the specialization necessary in earning a living. vii FOREWORD Man playing is needed as well as man thinking and man working. The stress upon thought and work in the development of modern life led for a time to an undervaluation of many social tools, as the festival and the game, which had been of great significance in earlier periods. Man light- ens his baggage as new needs arise and supposes that he is through with whatever of impedimenta he has cast aside. Sooner or later, however, he or his descendants learn that one reason for les- sening the load is that, by this means, strength and experience may be secured to regain and use more adequately some of the material which was con- sidered at one time a hindrance. The pioneer who carries the seeds of progress to a new frontier must select his pack with care. He finds an art joy in his new labors without rec- ognizing it as an art and he has little regret for the carnivals and feast days he has left behind. But as his work becomes more social and involves wider relationships the simple individual ma- chinery is insufficient and he must have communi- cation or his task will fail. In the life that " no man liveth unto himself alone," the means of communication make him social and give him art. viii FOREWORD In America the devotion of the pioneer has made possible a new state of commerce and manu- facture, and now more effective use of what has been accomplished waits upon a rebirth of still other social activities — those most immediately concerned with health and joy and appreciation. The festival has played an important part in the life of the past. It has survived during strenuous periods under the names of entertain- ment, show, social, sociable, etc. At present it is proving itself a part of the democratic move- ment. On the one hand it calls out the powers of invention and energizing activity of the individual and, on the other, it reveals to him his best oppor- tunities for self-expression or better self-com- munication in active association with others. Speech, music, gesture, pantomime, acting, play, the dance, stage setting and adaptation with many other arts join to furnish a tool of wonderful pos- sibilities. To the observer of a great festival in which thousands of children take part the future of a generation trained in this way is significant for democracy and art. This is more evident if he has followed the earlier steps of the process and has seen how children and grown people have developed in meeting responsibilities, in putting ix FOREWORD their thoughts and feelings into material form and have developed character from what they have created. Mrs. Needham's experiences leading up to this book have been of this nature. The work of her many students has been remarkably cooperative yet the individuals concerned have had little chance to lose their self-activity. In fact the joy of unaccustomed freedom of participation often led to revelations of unexpected power of work and persistence. The result was that whether the undertaking was a simple pantomime or drama- tization by little children, a Dutch or Hungarian festival involving the searching out of disappear- ing immigrant customs, or a standard play, the final rendering was a new creation. Wise handling of this kind of work gives technique impossible through formal drill alone. The start made in these festivals opened up long vistas of meaningful experience in which reading; writing; adequate speech, song, movement and posture; the conservation of family customs (too often a source of misunderstanding to the young) ; the culture and life of the past, all become tools to aid in realizing and enriching the activities called for by present needs. FOREWORD Both to those who require help to make a start and to those who are ready for further guidance on the way this book will be very welcome. Frank A. Manny. XI TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE Preface v Foreword yii PART I. TLbc ipfoneer Jfestfpal . . . . i The Old Deerfield historical pageant — Vicarious activities — The pioneer road. A Children's Pioneer Festival 30 Value of the pioneer festival. PART ir. Zbc Spirit of tbe Jfesta ... 4a Pageant defined, festival defined — Revival of his- toric pageantry in England — Revival of the festival in a Normal School — Description of the Greek May- festival. Method of Procedure S^ Games, songs, pantomimes, dances, costuming — Diificulties of dramatization. May Day Festival Given by Seventh Grade Pupils . 67 Merry Mount May- Pole 70 Some Traditions of May Day 75 The milk-maids — Chimney sweeps — The Robin Hood group — May-games. TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE The Harvest Festival . 83 Feast of the Tabernacle — The Harvest Home — The Kern — The Mell-supper. Hallowe'en 87 Thanksgiving 9° The first American Thanksgiving — Thanksgiving festivals in a Training School. PART III. jfestal Heritage 95 The circus — Its origin — The first circus in New England. Pantomime 104 The old pantomime — The modern pantomime — Harlequin, the clown — Pierrot and Pierrette — The puppet-show — Marionettes — The Marionette play in New York. Minstrelsy 115 Minstrels — Minnesingers — Meistersingers — Troubadours — Jongleurs — Jesters and Fools. The Mummers 120 Their Christmas play. The Spirit of Old World Festivals 125 The Siena Palio. Guatemala City Fete 131 The Festival Play at Rothenburg on the Tauber . •. 135 TABLE OF CONTENTS rASB PART IV. Cboice of Subject 143 Christmas — Winter solstice — The Saturnalia — Legend of Balder and the mistletoe — Legend of St. Boniface and the fir tree — Type of Pagan-Christian play — Old English Christmas — Christmas as an American festival — Description of Dutch Christmas festival — The celebration of legal holidays in Amer- ica. The Fourth of July 164 What it commemorates — Some features of the first celebrations. Washington's Birthday 172 When first celebrated — Some incidents suggested for festivals. Thanksgiving Day 180 Memorial Day 181 Community Festival 183 Description of a Hungarian festival. PART V. Zbc Tllse of jfestfvalB in Connection witb ipia^groun&s an5 Scbools . . 191 The Playground movement — Its community value in fostering folk-art — The dance — Social inheritance — The natural expression — The Dance of the Seises — The problem in adolescence — The legend of St. George — His festival at Furth im Walde, Germany — Folk songs — The drama. Schools 208 The festival as a definite factor in the school — TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE Festival as a means of co-ordinating different depart- ments — Description of Norse festival given by 3rd grade — The old Chester pageants — Coventry plays ■ — Small fetes in France — The fete of Sire de Gayon — The fete of Avignon — Dedication festival of the Normal School in Boston. PART VI. IPsiscbologfc jEffects of tbe festival . 226 The value of folk-art — The Stratford-on-Avon festival movement — Festival in East End in London — Effect of festival on individual — Prolongation of pleasure period — Festival in the district school — Summary. References 240 FOLK FESTIVALS PART I Ubc ©foncer jfcstival W C ('^ "^ yHAT'S the use of even talking about it ? I can't — I can't go to that an- niversary! I'm tired of exhuming dead dust. We can't have anything alive in this town, or anyone 1 Everyone that has a spark of life leaves before he dries up and dies. Even the children can't run a lemonade stand for two hours — the town Is too dead to support itl Then think of planning an ' anniversary in honor of our patriots.' Humph! I'm going to leave and go on the stage, or join the circus. Anything where there's something doing." " PoUie," remonstrated her mother, " you can't know what you are saying. This town that you speak of so slightingly is one of the historic places of your country, and in your veins flows the blood I FOLK FESTIVALS of some of the heroes of this nation." And Mrs. Williams lifted her head proudly. " Historic places ! Heroes I " snapped PoUie. "What good does that do me? All I know is that up and down the street are little slabs stating : ' Here lies thing-um-a-gum that shot, mangled and killed two hundred and fifty regiments of sol- diers.' ' This stone marks the place where the effigy of King George was burned by our patriots.' ' Here was the home of the Colonel who led our first company To Arms in the Revolutionary War,' and so forth, and so forth, and so forth. Well," and PoUie got up in her excitement, " what about it? They all did something. That's why a slab is stuck up. But what do we do, and what do they mean to us? Just stones to scrape the mud off our shoes when we come in from the marshes — and to point theatrically toward when our relatives visit this * quaint town.' " " Pollie," gasped her mother. " You — " " If I could be carried off by Indians," con- tinued Pollie, too excited to be interrupted, " and nearly murdered, and escape from my Indian mas- ter in Canada, as one of my remote grandfathers did, why I'd — I'd — I'd think a little more of him," she asserted paradoxically. " But I'm sick 2 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL of his name and I'm not going to any anniversary, ' in honor of our patriots,' and hear Sarah Spencer read some of her poems on our ' wonderful town and our heroic progenitors ; ' and hear Pastor Brown pray for our especially-blessed-by-Provi- dence town, and listen to the school children recite orations on, ' Heroes every child should know.' Can't I just remember how I got that stuff for my oration out of stupid histories and encyclopedias I " " PoUie, you must stop this tirade. I can't un- derstand how you — " " Now please don't say anything. I'm tired and sick of the whole performance of these an- niversaries and holidays. I want to do something myself — not just sit around and bask in the fact that a hundred and fifty or two hundred years ago I had a few ancestors who did something, or else were ' done for ' themselves in that ever- lasting massacre of ours. We'll never hear the end of that massacre. You'd think this country supported only one. I quite agree with Uncle Williams who grunted out the other day that he thought it was about time we had another massa- cre and killed off a few of these ' squaws ' who don't talk about anything else." " PoUie, how can you say these things before 3 FOLK FESTIVALS Jane?" asked her sister, who entered with her friend. " You are a rebellious child." " So were my grandfathers," was the answer. " They're the cause of it all — me included." " I'll tell you," said Jane, the friend, as a happy idea struck her, " why don't you give a festi- val?" "Festival," sneered PoUie. "How can we? The strawberries are all gone ! " "Strawberries?" echoed Jane in surprise. " Yes — can't have a festival without them." " Child, what do you mean ? Just think of the word — F-e-s-t-i-v-a-1. How does it sound?" " Sounds gloomy to me," answered PoUie, whose only remembrance of a festival was one whole day spent in culling strawberries for an en- tertainment advertised as a " Strawberry Festival for the Benefit of Memorial Hall — where are preserved the Sacred Trophies of the Founders of this Town." "Gloomy I Why, it's nothing but jollity and joy and doing, doing, doing," rejoined Jane. " Why, you can be one of your ' remote ancestors ' as you call them and do just what they did, and—" "How?" 4 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL " See here, didn't one of your ' remote ' grand- mothers do anything? " "Yes, got herself killed! but — " and PoUie's face lighted up. " Yes, she did do something. When the Indians came in and were shooting down the door, she wakened the children, gathered them around her and escaped down a secret stair- case, and concealed the children in the hollow of an old tree. Then, because it wasn't large enough to hold her, she ran quickly away in another direc- tion so as to divert the Indians' attention from her children. And then, you know, she let the In- dians capture her; but they found the children, of course, and carried them all off to Canada, and then she was rescued, and then, just as she got nearly home the Indians found her and killed her. Yes, she did do something," and Pollie nodded her head thoughtfully. " Well," said Jane, " don't you see you can be your ' remote ' grandmother, and we can get Gor- don Cotton to be your ' remote ' grandfather — he's big and strong, and looks something like their pictures — and the school boys can be the Indians and some French soldiers and we can have the whole scene right over." Pollie's eyes brightened. Was it possible to 5 FOLK FESTIVALS make anniversaries really interesting? " Let's do it! " she said with all the energy of youth. And they did. The Old Deerfield Historical Pageant given on the grounds of the Allen Homestead In July, 1 910, was memorable for the Illuminating flashes that It gave of the town and its people, covering a period of over two hundred years. Like PoUIe, many in the pageant were lineal descendants of the early settlers and represented their own ancestors in the episodes. In the picturesque yard, back of the quaint homestead, the slope of the ground formed an amphitheater, and the stage screened with laurel and backed by trees and bushes seemed a natural, rather than an artificial, part of the setting. From here the meadow swept to the dark woods on the side of the environing hills, and In the evening they threw their cloak of mystery over the whole presentation as if concealing In their shadows the spirits of those who, for a little time, had played their part upon this stage and had left behind them the fragrance of old memories re- vived In this, the " play " of other years. As the first lights flashed upon the stage it was a scene of England that met the eye — a scene of 6 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL festive village folk making merry round the May-pole with their Morris dances and their glees. As they were reveling about their May Queen a figure in sharp contrast walked solemnly and slowly out of the shadow. It was a black- garbed parson followed by a band of Puritans whom the King and Church were " harrying " out of England. For a moment they threw a shadow on the merry-makers as they wended their way to Plymouth to embark on the Mary and John, and to follow, ten years after the Mayflower, to the land of Peace. In the company were the grand- parents of some of the early settlers of Deerfield. While they were tossing on the ocean, we catch a glimpse of the meadows that afterwards became Deerfield, when the Pocumtucks, the leading tribe of that valley, lived there on the banks of the Deerfield River. Over two hundred years ago the people of the Old World and the people of the New met to exchange their wares — not always to their mu- tual benefit. But the purchase of the Pocumtuck lands was an unusually fair one. To be sure, the Pocumtucks had hitherto been the kings of that valley. The Connecticut and Deerfield rjvers, and the meadows and hills around, had furnished 7 FOLK FESTIVALS them their hunting and fishing. On the top of Pine Hill, which is now covered with Lombardy poplars and peacefully overlooks the little stream that winds around its base, they had their strong- hold. But the Mohawks made battle and re- venge on them for murdering a messenger who had been sent to mediate between them, and their stronghold was destroyed and they were al- most wiped out. Therefore, it was a fortune that came to them from the white men in the form of a payment for these lands which, on account of their enemy, were no longer of use to them. It also seemed propitious to the selectmen of Ded- ham that this beautiful valley, so richly endowed by Nature, should be free from grants, and there- fore open to them. In the Memorial Hall the people of Deerfield could look any day upon that deed signed by " ye sachem of Pacumtuck, in 1696." Never before, though, had they actually seen Colonel Pynchon, whom the selectmen of Dedham had chosen to purchase the eight thou- sand acres, when, in company with other colonists, he met that band of Indians, and according to their ceremonies, paid over to them the four pence an acre and received in return that deed preserved for over two centuries as the proof of the honest 8 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL tenure of their homes. It was good to have one glance of the Indians giving and receiving in fair- ness of exchange, and the Hunt Dance which fol- lowed to the accompaniment of weird Indian music seemed to complete this picture of the In- dian as yet uncontaminated by warfare and com- merce with the Whites. But was there not a forecast of the scenes to follow in that war- whoop which echoed down from the hills after the Indians had leaped into the gloom of the surrounding woods? One could vividly fancy the shivers in the hearts of the early colonists, as they listened always for this echo and its attendant warning. Then through the meadows on the right came an ox-cart. In it were Samuel Hinsdell and his Puritan wife, by name Experience. So did the first settlers of Deerfield come, and as one saw them making their way with the few household implements and treasures in the ox-cart, one wondered what courage sustained these first set- tlers who, breaking with all their ties, leaving behind them those that they loved and the little familiar objects of everyday life, casting aside all other human companionship, were able, nay, anxious to come and build their lonely hearth in 9 FOLK FESTIVALS the wilderness. Of course others soon followed, but these " first settlers " came alone In the ox- cart; they built the first house; and to them was born the first -child of Deerfield, Mehuman Hins- dell. No, we may have looked on Courage but we have never seen that side of her face. As Pollie said, every one who goes to Deer- field is told about " the massacre " of September 1 8, 1675 — and no wonder — for it was, as a contemporary said, " that most fatal day, the saddest that ever befel New England." In the old Indian Cemetery is a mound — a silent wit- ness to the sixty-four men buried in this one " dreadful grave." The story of that day testi- fied that the war-whoop of the Indians was no longer an echo. King Philip had incited the In- dians to attacks on the frontier towns so that sol- diers had to be sent from the Bay to protect the inhabitants. They had their headquarters at Hadley, a settlement only a few miles from Deer- field, with Colonel Pynchon as their commander- in-chief. He ordered the wheat harvested, and sent Captain Thomas Lathrop, with his company, to bring it to Hadley in Deerfield teams. So in the early morning, when the birds were singing in the trees, and the little brook went gurgling 10 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL white and clear through the thicket at the side of the woods, " Captain Lathrop, with his choice company of young men, the very flower of the county of Essix," started with his slow-moving teams. Marching through the woods he came to the brook in the swampy thicket. As they started to cross the nameless stream, the soldiers laid down their arms to eat some of the purple grapes that grew by the way. The war-whoop was no echo now. Of the seventeen fathers and brothers who had left Deerfield in the morning not one returned. They had fallen by that stream, which, baptized by the blood of this " Flower of Essix," received its name, Bloody Brook. No history of Deerfield — no visit to Deerfield — Deerfield itself is not complete with- out " the massacre." Therefore, it was fair to assume that no historical pageant would be com- plete without it. But how could a massacre be made vivid without being offensive? It spoke much for the " poetry " of those in charge of the pageant that the only evidence of the massacre itself was In a fusillade of rifle shots, fired in the near-by woods. We had seen Captain Lathrop and his men start with the carts; we knew to what they were going ; and when the shots came the im- II FOLK FESTIVALS pressive silence bespoke a recognition of the waste and the tragedy of that pioneer time and of those who gave their blood for us. No wonder that after this Deerfield was de- serted. But Courage hovered over the valley and beckoned most of the settlers back. So the next scene in the pageant showed Deerfield after it had become a permanent settlement. This episode, in fact, occurred on the actual spot where the pageant was being presented, for it was here that Mistress Hannah Beaman, the first school dame, lived and taught the children of the vil- lage. Now she comes again from her house dressed in her quaint and simple costume, with the little white cap on her head; and back of her, in the same old-time dresses and their smaller white caps, comes her flock. How she smiled on them as they sang their school songs, and the more sing-songy they were the more the school dame smiled. She smiled, too, at the boy who went out to the well for a drink of water. But the smile faded at the warning of the little boy that the In- dians were coming. Terrified, Mistress Beaman gathered her flock around her and carrying the littlest one in her arms rushed for the stockade at the right of the grounds. All reached it in 12 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL safety — except the little boy who had gone for the drink of water. He had fallen a prey to the Indians who, led or hired by the French soldiers, were creeping on to the town. This was a time of war, not peace, and Queen Anne's war brought bitter desolation — the deso- lation of death and worse than that, the desola- tion of captivity — and in Memorial Hall are pictures and records of those captured by the Indians. We saw the savages as they surprised the sleeping town and each claimed a captive. We saw John Williams, the pastor, as he was led out of the " Old Indian House " by an Indian. We admired him and wondered at him when we saw how erect and unafraid he seemed. But it was not so with Dame Williams. Slowly, as if she were falling in her grief and terror, she was dragged along by her captor. She turned back often to look at their five children; at little Stephen who had not forgotten his silver buttons and buckles, and at small Eunice, who, touching some chord in her captor's heart, was carried in his arms. After her came maidens and youths, some solemn, some shrinking, many terrified, as they started on their long three hundred mile march to Canada. We watched them in silence 13 FOLK FESTIVALS as they climbed the hill and were swallowed up in the gloom of the woods. It was with relief that we saw that the next scene was not to be another such a desolate one, although it did afford food for speculation. Here was Eunice Williams, a child no longer. She was dressed in Indian garb and was called by an Iroquois name that meant, " they took her and made her a member of their tribe," and neither prayer nor threat could ever procure her ransom. She married an Indian and died — an Indian ! In contrast to this was an episode showing Jonathan Hoyt, another captive, redeemed from the market in Quebec where, overlooked by his Indian master, he was selling vegetables. When the Indian had taken the twenty silver dollars which Governor Dudley's son, then on a mission to redeem captives, gave to him, Jonathan Hoyt's safety seemed assured. There was a dramatic moment, however, when the Indian was seen to re- gret his bargain. He started to follow but he was too late and came back — alone. To those who had puzzled over the translation of a church record or over the story, telling how two captives were married in Canada and there renounced their nation, wishing to live as savages 14 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL with the Christian Indians, the scene of their mar- riage was watched with great interest. Then there came a pause, and in an impressive stillness, a solitary rider came slowly down the hill. It was John Williams, their captured min- ister, who had preached to them since 1684, and as one voice the Puritans greeted him in the song "Be Thou, O God, Exalted High." To cele- brate the return of their pastor they joined in a service of praise and thanksgiving. No bell summoned them. They came at the call of the drum, while a sentry kept a sharp outlook. Men were on the right, women were on the left, so placed by the committee who " dignifie and seat the meeting-house." The deacon read out a line of " Old Hundred " and the people sang it, but already the rising generation could be felt in the compromise that was made when they sang, " Jerusalem, My Happy Home," by " rule." After such stormy times, a scene showing the Indians trading with the villagers rather than massacring them or capturing them was a happy one, although we did not quite trust the dusky squaws gliding into the doorway with their mats and baskets, hoping for some return, or the hunt- 15 FOLK FESTIVALS ers bringing their spoils upon their shoulders to exchange for tobacco and powder. In " A Colonial Wedding," Scene IX of the pageant, there was a glimpse of the brilliance of colonial times. It was the marriage of James Corse of Deerfield, the landlord of a tavern. Better times had come now. Some of the grim- ness of battle and defeat had given place to show and pomp. The guests came on foot and on pil- lioned horses; in chaise and in coach; came from far and near, to join in the wedding feast and dance. They were dressed in silks and brocades and all the flavor of the times was vivified in the dance led by the bride and bridegroom in the gar- den with its old-fashioned flowers throwing out their fragrance. As one walks down the one street of Old Deer- field, one comes upon a bowlder and on it reads that it marks the spot where the liberty pole was planted July 29, 1774. This was not done with- out opposition, for it is written about the first pole brought for the purpose, that, " By some Mali- cious Person, Inimical to his Country ye s^ Pole was sawn in sunder." Yes, there were Tories at Deerfield, true Tories. When the order to drink no tea came, they resisted it. The parson, the 16 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL judge, and esquire, the three doctors, most of the town officers, and many others would not give up their tea. But it was difficult to secure it. As the people gathered in Scene XI, " Parson Ashley's Tea Party," it could be seen by their air that this was no common tea party. The stage- coach in all its splendor brought some of the guests in their most gorgeous attire. They spiritedly greeted the Loyalist and his package marked " Monongahela Balsam," and they defi- antly drank the tea which it contained. And when they joined in the minuet it was with a special dignity as if by so doing they were more strictly adhering to the old country. The Tories were care-free and confident, and there were many of them, but when on the twentieth of April the galloping messenger cried, " To Arms I Gage has fired upon the peo- ple 1 Minutemen to the rescue! Now is the time, Cambridge the place," there were fifty men ready with Captain Locke and Lieutenant Joseph Stebbins at their head and Justin Hitchcock's fife to keep them in step. In this final scene of the pageant it was keenly felt that here was some of the backbone that made this country a nation, and in the tableau that followed — the Grand Army 17 FOLK FESTIVALS of the Republic saluting the flag — it was fur- ther impressed that by such as these was the na- tion preserved. And the reason for the nation's strength was more clearly understood after wit- nessing the scenes depicting through what vicissi- tudes and courage it had grown. In towns and cities of late years there has been a great tendency toward " Street Fair Weeks " and " Homecoming Weeks " as municipal activi- ties and celebrations. They have taken the place of the county fair with its displays and side shows and merry-go-rounds, now, for industrial reasons, almost unknown. Usually these celebrations are incited and financed by the town's chamber of commerce or some similar body and are largely for the purpose of bringing money into the city. Sometimes their by-products, as in the renewal of old ties and the new vision of old times, are of value. But the celebration itself is usually pretty bad, having no points of central interest, no outlook, and no perspective other than commer- cial. The Historical Pageant at Deerfield, it will be seen at once, was quite different. Here, the by-product was money, and there was a good deal of that, too, running into four figures — but the product itself was of a finer brilliance and left i8 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL something of a wondrous light shining on all within the village. For those communities that may desire to give a municipal festival of this kind, some of the or- ganization of the Deerfield Pageant may be of value. In the first place, there was the Mistress of the Pageant, who overlooked and directed all arrangements. The Patrons and Patronesses in- cluded the Governor of the State and other people of note. The people were divided into Commit- tees of the Pageant. There was an Executive Committee, an Historical Censor, an Advertising Committee, the Music Committee, a Costume Committee, the Property Committee, the Commit- tee on Grounds, a Committee on Seats, a Com- mittee in Charge of Horses, and a Committee in Charge of Oxen. Announcements were printed and sent all over the State and distributed in the hotels and other public places. Arrangements to postpone the pageant should the weather be stormy or uncertain were made known. In planning for the programmes advertisements were solicited, most of which were paid for in advance, thus tak- ing care of the initial expense. Some of the mer- chants in Greenfield — situated about three miles distant — were asked to contribute part of the 19 FOLK FESTIVALS necessary material, for as there were no merchants in Deerfield, they would profit by the pageant, A lumber company, for instance, loaned material for making the benches, on the understanding that only that which was spoiled by nails need be paid for. Of course everybody was willing and glad to give of his time, even when he had little, and most of the women made their costumes while those for the men were hired from a firm in Boston. Having a committee of one or more in each scene, who should take part in that scene, conduct rehearsals, find and look after properties, and in general be responsible for the scene (directed of course by the director of the pageant) , simplified things very materially. It is quite surprising that a big festival and pageant of this sort, involving many people, can be carried on with compara- tively little difficulty by working with units. Thus each scene can be rehearsed and completed by itself, and so is fairly simple. Then, if the direc- tor is competent, as Miss Eager of Deerfield was, it is not necessary to have a rehearsal of all scenes together more than once, and sometimes not at all. So, by this comparatively simple organiza- 20 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL tion, was effected the Old Deerfield Historical Pageant. Pollie thought much better of her ancestors after this pageant. She understood them better for she had lived with them for a while and dur- ing that time she was able, not only to interpret them to herself and to other people, but to express some of her own powers. Now the case of Pol- lie is but the case of a healthy, normal being re- belling against conditions that prevail in many of our smaller eastern towns ; those towns that main- tain their existence by the memories and tradi- tions of the past rather than by any industrial ac- tivity of to-day. Because such towns fought and bled in woe and desolation that those who came after might have life and have it more abundantly, they stand ever as monuments. In the days when each family constituted an industrial system of its own, when the needs of life — food, clothing, and shelter — could be supplied by following na- tive instincts and so fulfilling spiritual as well as material needs, these towns were very much alive. Had Pollie lived then she would probably have gone quietly through her days, satisfied because she was " doing " something. But the man and 21 FOLK FESTIVALS woman of -to-day is attracted to Deerfield be- cause of its ancient elms and purple hills and weather-beaten houses dignified by the memories of a famous past. There is little present or fu- ture there now. The spinning and the weaving are done elsewhere. Factories in other cities have taken away all the mechanical industries, and the person who is alive, as Pollie says, leaves if it is possible, before he dries up and dies. Deerfield is not an isolated example of this tragedy. In every section of the country are deserted villages that once were the center of throbbing life. In a gallery in London is a picture by Turner called " The Great Western Express." At- tracted by the name (for it is hardly a name we would choose ourselves for a picture), we look more closely. First we are conscious of color — the color of forces — but forces disturbed, forces in a cataclysm; and then as we go nearer In the midst of the color we see the cause of it all — the engine — the Great Western Express — Civilization — throbbing through the wilderness, violently subverting all conditions. In the track of this overwhelming change are left many de- serted villages, which, like Deerfield, may attract the students of history but not Pollie. 22 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL No wonder she hated those " anniversaries in honor of our patriots." They were nothing but stupid programmes of orations, essays, history; all dead, all drudgery, all about people who did something while she could do nothing but talk about them. Unfortunately, this is usually the kind of programme that we arrange in " honor of our patriots." Washington's Birthday is gener- ally celebrated by exercises in which are number- less essays on George Washington and his every attribute, true or imagined, until he seems to be nothing but a puppet, dragged hither and yon by the cords which we have arranged for our show. A man, a human being, he seldom is. With glad hearts we turn our backs on the father of our country and go out to play, thanking him, not because he saved our country (he never was made that real to us), but because he gave us a holiday for play. On Abraham Lincoln's birth- day, we frequently see, in a school, a picture tacked up on the blackboard, a few rolls of bunt- ing twisted around it and the dates of his birth and death on either side, and I ask you, can you think of two more uninteresting dates in the life of any person than those of his death and birth? There is little or no spirit in these celebrations; there is 23 FOLK FESTIVALS little or no meaning. Holidays are not made in that fashion. We have certain days set apart for celebration but we don't know how to celebrate them. What do George Washington's birthday, Abraham Lincoln's birthday, Memorial Day, and the Fourth of July mean to us? Do they incul- cate any more patriotism? Do they make any more vivid to us the people or the events that mark them as mountain peaks in the history of our nation ? Perhaps the reason for this is a fundamental error in our national life. We do too many things vicariously. We can never really know a thing until we do it or act on it. Since the in- vention of printing we have a great fund of infor- mation constantly before us. We analyze, we discuss, we argue and we cogitate, but, I repeat, until we do a thing or act on it, we do not know it. In many things we hark back to the Middle Ages when observation and investigation came to a standstill, and science was taught from the desk. There was much contentious writing and debating appertaining to the number of teeth of the horse and nobody seemed to think of the very simple ex- pedient of actually counting the teeth of a horse. We learn things that are in books, we investigate 24 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL when we can do it in a library, but we will seldom count the teeth of the horse ourselves. The re- sult is that we have many dreamers and few doers in anything except commercial progress. Now the need of " doing something " is a human hunger. " We are made in order to act as much as and more than in order to think — or rather when we follow the bent of our nature, it is in order to act that we think," says Bergson. The trouble with us in this over-civilized day is that we don't follow the bent of our nature. We take our play and our activities vicariously. In one of our great state universities is a pro- fessor of economics who spends most of his time in his classroom teaching, or in his library study- ing. His recreation, his play, he gets by reading detective stories — as many as twenty a week — and the more bloodthirsty they are, the more they scream and shriek, the better is he satisfied. He is a small, rather meek-eyed, quiet little professor and one doesn't suspect him of criminal inclina- tions; but not being able to feed this hunger by doing something active himself he feeds it through the incessant doings of detective stories. Perhaps the primary function in the Deerfield Pageant and Festival was to allow the inhabitants 25 FOLK FESTIVALS who had been basking in the light of their an- cestors' " doing " to step out into the light of their own doing, and to fulfill the bent of their own natures. So, through this festival they came into fuller life themselves and built surer foundations for the future of their village, because they formed a conception of what their past was by getting inside of it and seeing how it felt. This is just what a child does when he plays his game, and imitates his elders. He gets inside of them, sees how it feels himself, and so he grows; and when the time comes for him to be a hunter or a soldier or any of the other personages with which he fills his day, he is ready for it. Surely, it is as necessary to do this in order to untie the knot of the great national drama which we are acting on the stage of our country as it is in order to be the Macbeth and King Lear or Hamlet of the great Shakespearian stage. And to live in the personages and events of this festival, not only thinking about them, or feeling concerning them, but thinking them, feeling them, aye, living them, would mean much more to these people, would en- able them, as a community, to adapt themselves much more wisely, than months and years of ora- tions and prayers and essays. 26 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL On the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the founding of Norwich, Connecticut, the town held a celebration. In a series of dramatic pic- tures they illustrated the period before the white man came as well as that after. In one picture, the " Last of the Mohicans," who live in their own settlement near Norwich, showed in some typical dances and ceremonies what the region was like before the white man came. Then there was a scene picturing the story of the feud between the Mohicans and Narragansetts, ending in the battle of East Great Plain. The scene shifted, and George Washington and his soldiers trooped across the stage. Finally, the Boys of '6i — members of the local Grand Army of the Re- public — marched off to the Civil War. Per- haps the most significant part of this commemora- tive festival was the pageant or procession to which each of the foreign colonies contributed a float, thus weaving the foreign threads into one mighty American knot. Before " The Great Western Express " — or call it Civilization — fought its cataclysmic way through our hitherto interminable distances, only Indian trails, threads tangled and broken, united the East and the West. Here and there a rough 27 FOLK FESTIVALS pioneer road was hewn out, working great politi- cal and commercial changes along its highway. But in the first part of the nineteenth century ap- peared a road " different from the others in its masterful suggestion of a serious purpose, speed- ing you along with a strange uplifting of the heart." It was of a sterner sort, this first Na- tional road that America ever built, legally known as the Cumberland Road. Down it with our pioneers rode our national hopes, for these tillers of the ground bore in their hands not swords, but axes and hoes, and without these pioneers we would not exist as a nation to-day. It takes more than a sword to win the war; it takes the com- pelling force and resistance of this pioneer army to win the struggle and war of extermination. And this army does not march to the blood-stir- ring music of battle; no flags are unfurled before its ranks. Humbly and unrecognized it wins its battles; its life, the details of its everyday exist- ence, are often commonplace ; its great events fre- quently burie-d in obscurity. But without this army, England and France lost the country; and with it, and because of it, we stand to-day united as a nation and have not perished from the earth. The milestones on the old Cumberland Road are 28 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL tottering; the taverns are deserted, and not even a wreath Is seen on the half-forgotten graves by Its waysides. And yet down it, on their way Into the unbroken jungle, went many of our pioneers. With them walked Courage in his gay and bril- liant trappings, and in more somber hue. En- durance, hand in hand with Resolution, and lead- ing all the rest were Hope and Power, In the hands of the women were flowers, for a pioneer woman never forgot the seeds of her hollyhocks and the bulbs of her pinks, and if the wilderness has blossomed like the rose for us, it is because these women, in their hearts and in their hands, bore a few pink roots and a few hollyhock seeds. The journey on that Pioneer Road was made not so many years ago, for when we, in the West, travel back one hundred years, we come to the unbroken trail of the Indian. In no other nation have we a tradition so unique. We are living with our pioneers. We do not have to go back twenty-seven hundred years, as did the people of Bath, England, in their pageant, to meet our founders. Some of them sit on our doorsteps. They are perishing by our fireplaces and not per- ishing in the light of day. There are so many things we must learn of them, so little time for 29 FOLK FESTIVALS them to tell us, and we are letting that little slip by. We push them into the corners; they are rough, they are crude, they are — well, they are " Pioneers," we say when we are ashamed of our grandfathers. But, as Napoleon says, " War cannot be made with rosewater." To build a home, to sustain a home, to be a part of the great movement of life, surely is not an ignoble attain- ment. They have cleared the way for the younger generation; they have experienced a life that we can know only through them. When the mantle of labor falls from them they take their place by the fire, asking no alms and I am afraid receiving few. The more shame to us that we do not crown them with laurel and sit at their knees with bowed and reverent heads for they are the Prophets and only through them can we see the future. A children's pioneer festival Like PoUie, the girls and boys in a schoolroom in a small town in the southern part of Michigan, had grown tired of their " exercises." " We don't want to learn any more pieces," they said. And nothing that the teacher suggested could arouse them. About this time there was of- 30 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL fered in the Extension Department of a Normal school, a Course on Festivals, and the teacher, driven by her need, entered it. The work on the pioneers was particularly stimulating to her, for she thought of this little town asleep by the great sand dunes of Lake Michigan; asleep, that is, to everything except the call of money. There was no community life there. The only centers were the post office and the drug stores. The young people didn't know the old people and considered them " old-foggyish " and " old-fashioned." The old people shook their heads over the young peo- ple, and said, " In our days they didn't do so." Here was a barren field in which to sow the seeds of a pioneer festival ; so she went back to her pu- pils. " Do you know how this town was set- tled?" she asked of them. They looked at her in surprise and not one could answer. " Do you know anything about the Indians who lived here ' before the white men came?" "Indians?" And the little " witching " boy in the front seat looked up. " Were there Indians here in this town?" " Well, suppose we find out," answered the teacher. " Sure, but where can we find out? " 31 FOLK FESTIVALS "Where do you think?" "Will it have to be from books?" asked an- other boy fretfully. " No, I think not," and the teacher smiled. " Humph, I'll ask my grandad ; I bet he'll know," volunteered the first little boy. " Then, to-morrow, in our history class, we'll talk about the Indians who lived here and the first white men who settled in this place and who built up our town," was the history lesson assigned by the teacher. That night around the fireplaces and at supper tables questions hurried thick and fast from the young to the old. The mother of the " witch- ing " boy, unable to answer these questions and unable to stop them, said to her son, " Go ask Aunt Hetty who lives on the comer; I think she has lived in the town since the time it began." " Oh, no, I'm afraid of Aunt Hetty — she's too old." " All the more reason that she can tell you, my dear." The little boy thought a while. He did want to know about those Indians. He went outdoors and looked wistfully across at the little cabin where Aunt Hetty lived. It was old and weather- 32 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL beaten and looked as if it might have seen war councils itself. But no one knew Aunt Hetty very well. She lived here with her dog and cat. She had no children; she seemed to have few friends. She was the last of her time. The lit- tle boy walked slowly over to the corner, leaned across the fence, and looked longingly at the door. Suddenly another boy from the same school turned the corner. " Say," and the " witching " youth beckoned his friend, " do you think she could tell us about the Indians ? " And he nodded his head toward the forbidding house. After a consultation they stalked bravely in. It was a half hour before they came out again and they had had a good time, one knew by their faces. " Gee, ain't she great! " The next morning there was an expectant stir in the school. Whispers of Aunt Hetty and In- dians floated around the cloakroom. They were ready to recite on their history the minute the clock struck the period. There was only one dif- ficulty; both of the boys wanted to talk at once. When this was arranged it all came out. Why, John Robins and his wife had brought an Indian with them when they came down the small river in a boat. The Indian had come with them all 33 FOLK FESTIVALS the way just to make peace with the other Indians so that they wouldn't have their scalps taken. And it was a good thing, too, because there were a lot of Indians hiding behind the trees and they didn't know whether to kill the white man or to smoke the pipe of peace with him. But they made a fire on the bank, John Robins and the Indian — right over there on that bank where the old mill stood. You can nearly see the place from here ; and they cooked their supper and then the Indians came out from behind the trees and made friends with them. Aunt Hetty told them all about it. It is easy to see how enthusiasm of this sort would be contagious. Aunt Hetty was quite a different personage now to these children. They even thought that they could persuade her to come to the school and tell them about it. And they did. She put on her old bonnet in honor of the occasion. It hadn't been out of her trunk for a good many years, for a shawl had sigrved to pro- tect both head and shoulders. But if these chil- dren wanted to know something about former times, the dignity of the past had been retained, and she put on her bonnet and went up to the school. So one link in the broken chain between 34 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL the old and the young was forged. There re- sulted a period of the renaissance of the old folks. Grandfathers were rescued from forgotten cor- ners, and grandmothers told their stories — and true ones — at the twilight hour, and in the school, too, for that became the meeting place for the Past and the Present. A contagion of this sort is soon carried from the school into the home. It spread rather rapidly from there into the church society and into the lodge. Pioneer programmes became quite the fashion of the day and the children, from these programmes, gained some added material. But to them, after all, re- mained the glory. They weren't going to give a " programme," they announced, in a superior way. They were going to give a festival ! So one autumn day the people of the town gathered on the bank of the little river, and you may be sure all the grandfathers and grand- mothers were there. It was quite like the days of the old sewing bee and singing school. They found they had so much to talk about. They weren't " dead " yet, they weren't even " shelved," although they had thought they were. They sat dawn near the place where John Robins had landed. Now the town was across the river, for 35 FOLK FESTIVALS it had been moved a little later. It looked very beautiful seen through the tinted foliage of the trees and the bushes. The clocks struck and a hush fell over the group. Down the river they saw a tiny boat coming. In one end stood an In- dian as if guiding it. " John Robins," they whispered among themselves and they moved a little to make way for the boat to land. The In- dian looked from shore to shore and as he selected his landing place and stopped the boat a man and a woman followed him on to the shore. Then Indians could be seen behind the trees, watching and making signs. John Robins and his wife followed the Indian guide up the bank and helped him gather some wood to start a fire. As they sat around it, the Indians, after a hasty council, came forward with signs of peace and joined them around the fire. From the motions and gestures the audience knew that the pioneers were asking the Indians about the country, and soon they picked up their goods and followed the lead of the Indians around the bend of the river and out of sight. The people on the bank didn't wait to be told to follow. Aunt Hetty led the way, and by mov- ing a very little distance they could see the land 36 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL around the bend. On it was a long log house that the children themselves, helped a very little by their fathers, had erected. And even as they looked, another boat appeared around the bend of the river. This was an old-fashioned rowboat and in it were three white men with their fami- lies, Reverend William Prey, Mr. Hanson White, and their friend (neither Aunt Hetty nor any local historian knew that friend's name). Out of the log house John Robins and his family hurried to greet the new pioneers, and when they had landed they fell on their knees and led by their new minister, were seen to offer prayer in reverent silence. Then, singing " A Safe Stronghold Our God Is Still," they entered the old cabin to hold their first religious service. So was the first church founded. In the third scene a larger boat than either of the others came down the river and landed on the opposite bank. The earlier settlers then moved across the river to live with the new- comers. They were joined by a band of Indians who seemed to feel also the meaning of this occasion, signifying it in their own way. The chief carried a long pole, and was followed by an Indian with a tom-tom. The chief held the 37 FOLK FESTIVALS pole in an upright position and the Indians danced around it to the music of the tom-tom and to the approval of the white people who saw in this cere- mony, peace and shelter for their new abode. The last scene united that time with the present and, because of this festival, was filled with meaning. Out of a little dwelling on the bank came the school teacher ringing a small hand bell, and the children running from their homes, en- tered the school with more alacrity and more joy, one fancied, than had been the case in many a year. Obviously, this festival differed from the Deer- field Pageant in many details, particularly in its simplicity. And yet its results were far spread- ing. They were: new enthusiasm in the school, new bond between teacher and children, and be- tween grandparents and grandchildren. History took on a new meaning, and In the very place where John Robins had landed, the children brought up their boat and with their Indian guide started the fires of a new place. There is some- thing very impressive when we live again the events, sing the songs or speak the speech that years before were enacted in that very spot by those who had gone before. 38 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL Modern education is returning to the old methods used by the priests — the methods of the Morality and Miracle plays. St. Francis of As- sisi, that holy man of the thirteenth century, saw that if religion was to be made democratic it must be presented vividly to the people. Only so would it gain a hold on their affections. With faith and reverence he built the little manger of Bethlehem in his church that the people might see with their own eyes the events of that night when the Wise Men, guided by the star, found the child in the stable. All democratic movements. In order to be forces, must be vivid. The mind best perceives things that are pic- tured. This was very evident after the festival In that little Michigan town. All history be- came more plastic. The children could see Its possibilities and how it could be made real. School meant more. This is not an attempt to make the festival a panacea for all municipal and educational ills; but, sometimes, a very simple thing that we perceive and do ourselves may change our attitude of mind and our vision In many things. The Pioneer Festival may prove that there is fellowship and understanding for us among our 39 FOLK FESTIVALS parents. The same songs are chanted in our churches; the same prayers for courage and en- durance are offered from our pulpits; there is the same play of the sun upon the waters and the hills; and as of old the Prophets lead forth the little children In whom is their hope. There is little tradition in America. We have had no jongleurs, no minnesingers, to sit under the greenwood tree and tell us stories and legends of our town or of our country-green. We have been too busy hewing out the stone to build our dwellings and thinking out systems whereby we can get more efficiency out of human machines. Then, too, we have been a migrating people and we couldn't halt every generation to find out or set up a few traditions. A man who was born and lived and married and died in the same town is a sort of American miracle — a reversal of American nature. No, we will go to Europe for our traditions, we think, and there visit the castles and cathedrals that were potent forces in civiliza- tion. Yes, when we get through making our money, we will find out something about tradi- tions — in Europe. But we must have traditions here, or rather we must preserve those that we have. John Robins was a compelling figure in 40 THE PIONEER FESTIVAL this little town which he founded, and I fancy that he, and what the people have made him stand for, will be more dominating as the years go by.