Comment Jane Austen Christmas
Comment: Jane Austen's Christmas - dances and dangerous games
Published on: 18 December 2025
Writing for The Conversation, Meg Kobza discusses festive traditions such as dancing, dinner parties and dangerous games that Jane Austen took part in.
Meg Kobza, Newcastle University
Would you dare to play Snapdragon and pluck a flaming raisin from a fiery bowl of brandy? Or don the costume of a comedic character on Twelfth Night? Jane Austen certainly would have – and did.
These games were two among many festive traditions that featured in the Georgian Christmas season and were part of Austen’s yuletide experience. Much like our own holiday season, it was a time filled with frivolity, fun, and friendly gatherings – as Mr Elton confirms in the pages of Emma (1816).
During a picturesque carriage ride through the snow, he shares his delight with Emma and Mr Knightley, proclaiming: “This is quite the season, indeed, for friendly meetings. At Christmas every body invites their friends about them, and people think little of even the worst weather.”
This sentiment holds as true now as it did when it appeared in print in 1815 and is echoed across Austen’s novels. In Pride and Prejudice (1813) both Mrs Bennet and Lizzy invite family to stay for the holidays – Mrs Bennet welcoming her brother and his family to Longbourn, Lizzy offering to host her aunt and uncle at Pemberly.
Whether the assembly at Randalls in Emma or Sir Thomas Bertram’s ball at Mansfield Park, social gatherings with friends and family were a central part of Georgian Christmas culture. In Persuasion (1817), Mary Musgrove’s disappointment over a “very dull Christmas” without a single dinner party during the whole of the holidays emphasises the expectation and significance of jolly entertainments to foster a festive spirit.
It is likely that Austen met one of her earliest romantic interests, the clever and handsome Tom Lefroy, at one such jovial holiday gathering in December of 1795. Lefroy, who was spending Christmas with family, continually crossed paths with Austen throughout the season.
In a letter to her sister Cassandra, Austen recalled: “I am almost afraid to tell you how my Irish friend and I behaved. Imagine to yourself everything most profligate and shocking in the way of dancing and sitting down together.” They certainly made merry – flirting, laughing, and gossiping their way through the season.
This article is part of a series commemorating the 250th anniversary of Jane Austen’s birth. Despite having published only six books, she is one of the best-known authors in history. These articles explore the legacy and life of this incredible writer.
While the sentiments of Austen’s Christmas scenes pervade our holidays even today, there are certain aspects of the Georgian holiday season that are more unfamiliar – most notably the length of the season itself.
Today, Christmas decorations pop up early, with pumpkins vying for space between mince pies and stockings long before November has even begun. In Austen’s time, the Christmas season sat firmly in December, beginning with St Nicholas Day on December 6 and concluding with a bang one month later on January 6, or, as the Georgians knew it, Twelfth Day.
Unlike our December 25, Austen’s Christmas Day was a more intimate and quiet affair, not yet characterised by elaborate feasting, large parties, or even Father Christmas. Instead, the day was spent attending church and with close family while Twelfth Night was given the spotlight of the season.
The days between Christmas and Twelfth Day – known as the 12 days of Christmas – were therefore filled with preparation and anticipation.
Twelfth Night was an evening of mischief, masquerade and merriment. With a history dating back to the Romans, Twelfth Night was rooted in ideas of topsy-turvy – where anyone could be anything and everyone’s fate was determined by the slice of a cake.
Shared among family, friends and servants, the Twelfth Night cake, whether extravagant or practical, contained a dried bean and a dried pea. Whoever happened upon the slice with the dried bean became king for the evening, and the dried pea the queen. They would reign for the night, with their subjects left to do their bidding.
Once the king and queen were crowned, revelry and games ensued. Austen’s niece, Fanny Knight, often wrote of family Twelfth Night celebrations, recalling “we were all agreeably surprised with a sort of masquerade, on being dressed into character”. There were costumes for a Harlequin, flower girl, clown, cupid, musician and many others.
Austen herself enjoyed the spirited play of Twelfth Night, donning the character of “Miss Candour” one year and spending the whole evening “taking people aside to comment on their dress or making outrageous comments in loud whispers for all to hear!” Then came the games – including Snapdragon, apple-bobbing, and a messy round of Bullet Pudding which also appeared in the 2020 screen adaptation of Emma. Snapdragon challenged players to snatch almonds or raisins from flaming bowl of brandy while bullet pudding involved using your nose to poke through a mound of flour in order to find a hidden bullet – this often resulted in laughter and flour-powdered faces.
Twelfth Day carried the merriment of the night before into daylight hours and was treated as a bank holiday. As January 7 dawned, however, households hurried to take down their decorations, stripping festive greenery from banisters, doorways, mantles and tables. The once resplendent wreaths and garlands were promptly gathered and set alight to ward off bad luck in the new year.
Though Twelfth Night eventually went out of fashion, it seems that the Georgians and Austen herself found pleasure in mixing revelry with reverence and enjoyed the festive season to its fullest.
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Meg Kobza, Leverhulme Early Career Fellow, Newcastle University
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.