Colonial Delaware, in the early 18th century, found itself at odds with mumming, an ancient tradition imported from England. What had once been a quaint custom in the Old World became such a public scandal in the New that authorities arrested mummers even in the homes of their friends, as Anna T. Lincoln notes in her “Wilmington, Delaware; Three Centuries Under Four Flags.”

But what exactly was this practice of "mumming" that provoked such a harsh response? Originating in medieval England and brought to the American colonies by settlers, mumming was a long accepted Christmas tradition. According to J. Thomas Scharf in his "History of Delaware: 1609-1888", it involved groups of people going from house to house in elaborate costumes, "reciting rhymes explanatory of their fantastical disguises, and demanding 'dole.'"

In practice, mummers would dress in costumes and masks, then go door-to-door to perform plays, sing songs, or recite verses. In return, they expected food, drink, or money from the households they visited. The plays often explored themes like death and resurrection, the battle between good and evil, and seasonal changes. One popular performance, the "Hero-Combat," featured characters such as St. George, the Dragon, and the Doctor.

The local English settlers blended their mumming rituals with Native American and African customs. Mumming flourished in areas with strong English roots, particularly in Philadelphia. Primarily Episcopalians, Catholics, and members of the German Reformed or Lutheran churches supported these enactments.

Delaware’s mumming tradition experienced a resurgence in the early 19th century when Irish immigrants settled en masse in Wilmington to work at the newly established Dupont Gunpowder Works. The Irish brought their St. Stephen's Day (December 26) mumming tradition, though it remained informal and did not yet include organized parades.

Quakers, Presbyterians, and other Protestant sects strongly opposed practices such as mumming and even Christmas celebrations, viewing them as disruptive and contrary to their religious beliefs.

Authorities, more generally, became concerned that masked Yuletide revelers could use the opportunity to engage in unlawful activities, such as burglary, assaults, or creating general disorder. And so, in 1843, Delaware enacted a law to curtail Christmas mumming. The law stated:

"That if any person shall, on the twenty-fifth day of December, commonly called Christmas day, or on the evening or night preceding or following said day, appear in disguise and shall enter any house or shall demand entrance into any house, or shall in any street or highway disturb the peace, such person, upon conviction, shall be fined not exceeding fifty dollars, or imprisoned for a period not exceeding thirty days."

However, as always, there were scofflaws. A Smyrna Times article from December 27, 1854, offers just one example. Despite an official "interdict... against the use of any kind of fireworks" specifically ordered for Christmas that year, young people in Smyrna openly defied this ban. They "made a large fire of whatever combustibles they could find" and engaged in "the throwing of fireballs." But they didn’t stop at violating just the fireworks ban—they also blatantly ignored the 1843 anti-mumming law. The youths "dressed themselves in masquerade, to avoid detection," thus violating both prohibitions.

Despite the enactment of laws to curb the practice, mumming continued to thrive, with individuals finding ways to circumvent officialdom. This persistence became even more pronounced between 1880 and 1920, during the 'Great Wave' of immigration to the United States, which included a huge influx of Southern and Eastern Europeans to Delaware. Many of these new immigrants were comfortable with informal mumming customs in their home countries, and they were likely unaware of the 1843 law banning masquerading at Christmas.

The first wave of these immigrants, primarily young men, lived in crowded boarding houses, far from their families and accustomed domestic routines. With little to anchor them during the holiday season, they often felt restless and homesick when Christmas arrived.

Mumming, an activity they were used to, offered a way to connect with their homeland and avoid their cramped living conditions, if only for a day. Coupled with the anonymity that disguises provided, this made mumming an appealing form of escape and celebration for these young men, further perpetuating the tradition despite legal prohibitions.

Delaware's approach to containing the chaos of this non-organized mumming differed from Philadelphia's, despite both regions facing similar challenges with immigrant populations. Philadelphia created a formal New Year's Day Mummers Parade in 1901 to channel the immigrants' energy. Delaware, constrained by the 1843 Christmas mumming ban, offered structured mummer parades on Halloween instead. The timing aligned well with European immigrants' traditions, as Halloween evolved from the pre-Christian Celtic festival of Samhain, which included customs like wearing costumes and visiting houses for gifts—activities closely related to mumming. Halloween, with its established customs of community processions, costumes, and revelry, provided an ideal alternative occasion for mummers to perform.

Dover led this new trend, establishing its first Halloween mummer parade in 1906. The tradition quickly took root across Delaware, with other towns like Wilmington, Milford, and Smyrna following Dover's example. This strategic shift to Halloween allowed officials to channel the mummers' energy into organized events while keeping the rowdier Christmastime masquerading in check and staying within the letter of the 1843 law.

A Dover newspaper article from September 26, 1906 announced: "An elaborate Hallowe'en celebration and a mummers' parade will be Dover's attraction on the last night of October, and last night arrangements were begun for the fete, under the management of the Robbins Hose Company." The article promised "The largest parade ever seen in Dover" with prizes awarded for the most ridiculous costume, the prettiest decorated vehicle, and the finest horse.

In Wilmington, the 1912 mummer's parade was a lively event that brought "thousands of visitors" to the city. The Evening Journal called it "mummers night" and invited everyone to join in the fun. The atmosphere was festive, but there was also a strong police presence, both in uniform and undercover, to keep things in check. The streets were filled with "marching men, conveyances and city departments," making for an impressive spectacle. Still, the police chief gave "special orders" to keep an eye on anyone who might use their mask to cause trouble.

In smaller Delaware towns, the mummer parades were just as exciting. In 1919, Milton's Halloween celebration had around 2,000 people packed along the main street, enjoying the antics of the mummers. The fun didn’t stop with the parade, as a big dance was held at the local theater afterward. Georgetown’s 1925 Halloween parade was also a major event, drawing "hundreds of people from all sections of lower Delaware." The city even closed off Market Street to give the "young folk" room to enjoy themselves. With decorated floats, costumed participants, and prizes for the best displays, these small-town parades really captured the community spirit and fun of Delaware’s mummer traditions.

By 1930, Dover's Halloween parade had swelled. The News Journal reported on November 1 that "The annual Hallowe'en parade under the auspices of the Walter L. Fox Post, No. 2, American Legion of Dover last evening, was the largest and most elaborate ever held in Dover."

That year’s parade featured two divisions - a juvenile section and an adult section with floats, multiple bugle and drum corps from various towns, costumed mummers, and the Darktown Fire Department from Camden-Wyoming. Prizes were given out for best costumes, floats, and bands. The involvement of outside groups like the "Veterans of Foreign Wars Bugle and Drum Corps of Wilmington" and the "Elkton [MD] American Legion Bugle and Drum Corps" shows the parade drew participants and spectators from well beyond just Dover.

Today, while Philadelphia's Mummers Parade continues to thrive, Delaware mummer parades, for the most part, have disappeared. What happened?

Unlike Philadelphia, with its large population and resources, our smaller communities (even Wilmington) couldn’t maintain the same level of participation and interest over time in these parades. It's not for lack of love or effort – it's just the nature of our more intimate settings.

In our towns, mumming was a beloved seasonal tradition, but it never quite reached the level of cultural significance that Philadelphia's parade did. While Philadelphians made their Mummers Parade an integral part of their New Year's celebrations, our parades, though cherished, remained more of a novelty. This difference in embedding made it harder for our parades to withstand the test of time.

Organizing and funding were constant challenges for our small-town parades. Without the deep pockets of big city sponsors or the attention of major media outlets, we relied heavily on community support and local enthusiasm. Many First State towns ceased holding mummer parades by the end of the 1930s as the Great Depression depleted town coffers. As small towns, we're often more vulnerable to economic downturns. When times got tough, maintaining a mummer parade became a luxury we couldn't always afford, unlike a major city with more diverse revenue streams.

Philadelphia's spectacular New Year's Day parade exerted a strong pull on Delaware residents. Many chose to travel to Philadelphia for the bigger, more elaborate spectacle rather than take part in local events. The allure of Philadelphia's grand parade drew them away from their own communities' celebrations. This gradual drain of interest and participation dealt a significant blow to our own parades.

Our small-town parades struggled to evolve. While Philadelphia’s parade continuously adapted with new styles and performances, our events often lacked the resources or motivation for such changes. This made it harder to attract younger generations and keep the tradition alive.

The lack of media coverage was another factor in our parades' decline. While Philadelphia's event regularly made national headlines and television broadcasts, our local celebrations often went unnoticed beyond county lines. This limited exposure made it difficult to generate wider interest or attract visitors from outside our immediate areas.

Despite these challenges, we Delawareans have found a way to keep the spirit of mumming alive, albeit in a uniquely satirical form. In 1972, Middletown, Delaware struck up the Hummers Parade, a fond spoof of Philadelphia's by then entrenched Mummer's Parade. This inventive reimagining of the mummer tradition has become an annual event that draws hundreds of people every year on New Year's Day.

The Hummers Parade operates under two simple rules: no work on costumes or floats until the day of the parade, and taste doesn't count! This 1.5-mile-long parade has become a platform for poking fun at politicians, celebrities, and current events.

Over the years, the Hummers Parade has featured an array of outrageous and entertaining displays. One year, a group from New Castle dressed as the campy pop group the Village People. Another time, participants calling themselves the "Well Hung-Over Recovery Unit" dressed as doctors and nurses and wheeled a patient through the streets. Regardless of how cold it gets, you can always expect to see a smattering of bare-chested men, hula skirts, and bathing suits. Political masks and references to deer and duck hunting are also popular staples of the event.

What's remarkable is that the Hummers Parade has now been going strong for over 50 years. While our traditional mummer parades may have faded, this satirical spin-off has taken root as an important part of Delaware culture. It embodies the resilient and adaptable spirit of our state, proving that even as times change, we can find new ways to come together.