CUPID'S CARNIVAL

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22344, 15 February 1936, Page 1 (Supplement)

CUPID'S CARNIVAL

BY MATANGA

A BYGONE CUSTOM

On February 14 came St. Valentine's Day. Who cared? Among Englishspeaking folk, not many; perhaps none. There was a time—alack, now far away, though only in the sunlit yesterday of youth to many lives now touched with age! —when the day brought thrills of expectation and delight. But the custom of sending sweet missives on love's errand on this dav has suffered sudden feebleness, and seems marked for death. The infection of less romantic habits is maybe to be charged with this steep decline; perhaps the improved facilities of post and telegraph, multiplying avenues of intercourse where once it needed a special occasion to justify a message; perhaps the increase of freedom to woo and win, at least to strike up new friendships, in a world grown small and careless about garden walls. To the arising of democracy itself this charge may thus be attributed. At all events, the restrictions of Victorian days, hampering avowals and enjoyments of lovers after the fashion of Hinemoa's trouble over Tutanekai, have gone into speedy disrepute. Once upon a time Edwin and Angelina, oven when not bearing surnames like Montague and Capulet, had barriers of convention to pass, and Cupid needed St.. Valentine's aid to carry him over; but Claude and Claribel are now in no such case, to say nothing of 'Arry and 'Arriet. The glad eye, the cabaret smile, the lending-library jostle, the queue apology, the picnic camaraderie and what not give openings undreamed in the manners of the crinoline years, and so " good-bye " to the devices to which St. Valentine was patron saint of yore. Even then, of course, love sometimes laughed at fashion's locksmith and made mock of keepers of the keys. Does not Ophelia sing?

Good morrow; 'tis St. Ynlentine'e Day, All in the morn betime. Anji I a maid at your window, To be your Valentine Forward husky? Not necessarily. Only brave and resourceful, using with a difference that practice of a iar-off festival which once a year gave lovers special licence. Her notion is a variant of the way the day was used for a while in England. Exchanging Billets

Then, to quote an old book of travel, "an equal number of Maids and Bachelors pet together, each writes their true or some feigned name upon separate billets, which they roll up and draw by wav of lots, the Maids taking the Men's billets" —reads like a modern Labour troublo—"and the Men the Maids; so that each of the young Men light upon a Girl that he calls his Valentine, and each of the Girls upon a young Man which she calls hers. By this means each has two Valentines"— not necessarily, as anybody mathematically inclined or romantically clairvoyant may protest—" but the man sticks faster to the Valentine that is fallen to him than to the Valentine to whom he is fallen. Fortune having thus divided the company into so many couples, the Valentines give balls and treats to their mistresses, wear their billets several days upon their bosoms or sleeves, and this little sport often ends in Love. This ceremony is practised differently, in different countries, and according to the freedom or severity of Madame Valentine "—presumably a distant and disowned relative of Mrs. Grundy. To continue this Qbservnnt traveller's notes, for the sake of Ophelia's credit, " there is another kind of Valentine, which is the first young man or woman chance throws in your way in the street, or elsewhere." So why should not Ophelia lend chance, often blunderingly blind, a little help? In Scotland, by the way. the Fair Maid of Perth profited by this self-same custom, as readers of Sir Walter know. Pepys' Day

Dear old Pepys—a sly dog and an artful, if ever there was one—reveals the valentine of modern type, a pretty bauble in device and colour coming to be the cardboard ambassador of love. " This morning came up to my wife's bedroom little Will Mercer to be her

Valentine, and brought her name writ upon blue paper, in gold letters, done by himself very pretty; and we were both well pleased with it." Under the same date—that was the February 14 of 1667—is the diarist's comment on the use that courtesy was beginning to make of the artist. " I do first observe the drawing of mottoes as well as of names; so that Pierce, who drew my wife's, did draw also a motto. Her motto was .'most courteous and most fair,' which, as it may be used for an anagram upon each name, might be very pretty."

The opening line of Ophelia's song suggests another reference to Pepys' private confessional. " Good morrow, 'tis St. Valentine's day," was a customary " challenging " phrase. Once upon a time, whoever salcl it first on meeting a person of the opposite sex was entitled to a present. The old order was afterwards gallantly changed by the gentlemen's growing insistence that they alone should have the privilege of making the present, but only if they were first challenged by the ladies. So Pepys felt, according to his record, a quaint anxiety when, early on St. Valentine's Day, he called at Sir William Batten's.

I would not bo in till I asked whether they that opened the door was a man or a woman, and Mingo,.who was there, answered a woman, which with his tones made me laugh; so up I went und took Mrs. Martha for my Valentine (which I do only for complacency)'; and Sir W. Batten, he go in the same manner to my wife,' and bo we were very merry.

And Mrs. Pepys? There was a St. Valentine's Day, according to her husband's gossip, when one Will Bowyer came to bo her valentine, " she having (at which I made good sport to myself) held her hands all the morning, that t>he might not see the painters that wefe at work gilding my chimney-piece and pictures in my dining-room." There was no commercial virtue in challenging a painter, but from the expected gentleman guest something worth while might be wrung. Simple Gaiety

That was a gay age, when Charles the Second put to flight the shadows of the Protectorate. If these things seem frivolous, there shouid be recollection that gaiety over simple things is rather a good testimonial of character. From one frivolity of St. Valentine's Day, however, the past was mercifully free. It remained for comparatively recont years to contrive the socalled comic valentine. Really, this was not a valentine at all, for it frequently burlesqued the sacred passion that has been St. Valentine's care. Probably it had a share in bringing about the downfall of what was a very pretty fashion and one by no means socially useless. It, too, has gone, taking its vulgarity away, but with tbat has gone also the sprightliness that once made the day Cupid's annual carnival. Charles Lamb gives St. Valentine a laurel wreath of affectionate words:

Like unto thee, assuredly.- there is no mitred father in the calendar; not Jerome, nor Ambrose, nor Cyril, nor the consigner of undipt infants to eternal torments, Austin, whom all mothers hate; nor he who hated all mothers, Origen; nor Bishop Bull, nor Archbishop Pnrkjr, nor Whitgilt. Thou comest attended with thousands and ten thousands little Loveß, and the air is brusht with the hiss of rustling wings. Singing Cupids are thy choristers and thy precentors, and instead of the crosier, the mystical arrow is borne before thee.

Alas, that pleasant usage has fallen on decay 1 ■ - ;