A poetess once called it a seamless miracle. Its shape has been reproduced in gold and precious gems. Fraught with symbolism it was once worshipped by the ancients. All this and it tastes good, too. What is it? The egg, of course.
In the springtime, the ordinary egg is colored and embellished to become the Easter egg. Easter eggs are fun. Fun to color, fun to hunt, and most of all, fun to eat. People have been exchanging Easter eggs in a tradition that precedes recorded history. Of course, in the beginning they weren't really Easter eggs.
The egg itself has always been a symbol of fertility and new life. Early Christians adopted it to represent the resurrection. Yet the practice of exchanging colored eggs is truly ancient. The Chinese gifted each other with red eggs in spring. Today, my Greek neighbors still distribute red eggs at Easter.
The practice of rolling eggs had its origin in a symbolic rolling away of the stone which had sealed Christ's tomb. Britain gave us the pastime of egg-rolling on the lawn, transplanted here as early as James Madison's time in the White House.
In President Madison's time, it was customary for children to roll eggs on the grounds of the Capitol Building. There, it continued for almost seventy years, until groundskeepers complained that the crowds were ruining the smooth, green expanses.
President Hayes is credited for having moved the festivities to the White House lawn in 1877 but it was actually his wife, Lucy, who suggested it. "Lemonade Lucy," as she was called because of her stand on Temperance issues, was the mother of eight herself, and was probably very much aware of how much the children enjoyed that particular Easter frolic.
Easter eggs come in all sizes and colors, beautiful and delicious, or beautiful and inedible. At one point, the largest egg ever made was produced in England, for the trousseau of a South African millionaire's daughter. It measured 9 feet high and 18 feet around. Why it was considered appropriate for a trousseau wasn't recorded.
That record was later broken by an egg which took fourteen days to make. A chocolate company in Melbourne, Australia crafted the 4,484-pound egg, which was 24 feet 9 inches around. Perhaps by now that record, too, has been bettered. It must have taken some rabbit to deliver that one!
Colonial Americans dyed Easter eggs. A British prisoner in Maryland recorded his observations:
"The young people have a custom, in this province, of boiling eggs in logwood, which dyes the shell crimson and though this color will not rub off, you may, with a pin, scratch on them any figure or device you think proper. This is practiced by young men and maidens, who present them to each other as gifts."
The Stuff of Legends
My Ukrainian friends produce intricate and beautiful eggs each Easter, which are truly works of art. These are treasured and displayed as Easter heirlooms. Ukrainians attribute the first of these eggs, called "pysanky" to a Cyrenian peddler.
One day, as he carried his basket of eggs to market, he came upon a crowd who were mocking and abusing a man who bore a heavy wooden beam across his shoulders. The peddler pitied him. Leaving his eggs by the roadside, he shouldered the man's burden. When he returned his eggs had been transformed into beautifully embellished pysanky. Simon, the peddler, had befriended the about-to-be-crucified Christ.
The Hutzuls, of Western Ukraine, believe the fate of the world depends upon the continued decoration of Easter eggs. Should mankind fail to do so, a chained monster will be released to destroy the world. Each year, the monster sends out his servants to count the eggs. Too few and evil floods the world; many and love conquers evil.
Dying Easter eggs these days is a snap, with modern dyes and even cellophane sleeves printed with designs, which may be slipped over the egg and shrunk to fit it. Yet many families still prefer to make their own color concoctions. White eggs may be dyed in shades of pale gold to deep yellow with onion skins. Red or purple onions will produce shades of blue through lavender. Red cabbage yields a blue-gray hue. When cool, eggs can be polished with salad oil or olive oil to a lovely rich glow.
Some Easter eggs are "just for admiring." Hobbyists craft them from many materials including emptied egg shells, plastic, cartons, or a mixture of sugar and egg whites, molded and filled with miniature scenes to be viewed through peepholes.
When our menagerie included several geese, one hobbyist came miles to obtain the large, smooth eggs they produced. These were decorated elaborately to become "keepers".
The Most Extravagant "Keepers"
The most extravagant "keepers" were those marvels of an earlier era, the Imperial Russian Easter eggs created by Carl Faberge. Faberge, the descendant of French Huguenots who fled France in the 17th century, created over fifty of these matchless gold and gem-encrusted eggs between 1884 and 1916.
The Romanovs, including the Dowager Empress Maria Fyodorovna and Tsar Nicholas II, were his patrons. The Empress brought Faberge to the attention of her sister and her husband, Edward VII of England. Two of his masterpieces are, today, still in the possession of Queen Elizabeth. Ten remain in Russia; and many are in the collection of the late financier and publisher, Malcolm Forbes.
The Russian royal family preferred to be surprised and never saw the eggs until they were delivered at Eastertime. In addition to the opulent egg itself, each contained a "surprise". The 1914 Mosaic Egg was made of gold belts and platinum mesh and set with diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds and other gems. The surprise was a tiny gummed plaque with the profiles of the five royal children, all of whom would soon be executed by the Bolsheviks.
To be sure, we cannot all be collectors of fabulous eggs. There are, however, less costly eggs of marble and ceramic to keep and eggs of delectable chocolate and cream to devour. Whatever we choose, may the "count" on Easter morning be enough to brighten our spirits with their message of renewal and joy.
Mary Lou Healy, an "umpteenth-generation New Englander," is a regular contributor to our journal.