A Memory of Christmas                           

Rose and Harry Burgess had three grandchildren: their daughter Alice’s daughter, Beryl; and the two daughters of their son Harry junior - Mollie and Betty. Their daughter Alice was childless. All three cousins, who were close in age, were born in their grandparent’s house on the Island, but they did not grow up here. For several years Mollie and Betty lived with their parents in Paris, where Harry was working. Beryl and her parents also lived off the Island, but the few occasions when all the family met at the grandparents’ house, sometimes at Christmas, stand out in her memories of childhood as vivid and wholly happy.
“The house, a small one, had three floors and they were all full. The ground floor, a semi-basement, was reached down a short flight of steps into an area, known as “the airey”. The house had a wonderful aroma, cooking, spices, cigar smoke and, on Christmas morning the pine scent of the Christmas tree, not seen until we came down, the whole thing erected and decorated the night before, after we children had gone to bed. The surprise of seeing this wonderful object in the corner of the sitting room was always amazing.
My grandfather really loved the festivities of Christmas, it was the highlight of his year, he prepared for and enjoyed it to the full and in doing so, made it something really special for us too.
The day began with a visit to our bedroom, where we were sitting up in bed, undoing parcels from our Aunt Lal, sister to my mother and Uncle Harry. She still lived at home with her parents. We loved her but rather resented the way she ordered us around and expected unquestioning obedience. One Christmas morning she appeared with three new hair ribbons, two red and one mauve. We were also given fancy pinafores, like the hostess aprons which ladies wore; they were made of silk and had fronts and backs like a tabard, with frilly edges.
When we went down to see the Christmas tree there was always three of everything of the tiny presents to be handed out to us, even three fairy dolls on top, fanned out in a “V” shape.
The toys we were given were very different from today - they were almost a relic of Victorian childhood. There were dolls’ tin teasets, child-sized household tools such as washing tubs and clothes wringers. One year I found a complete doll’s house waiting for me - the cousins from France were not with us that year. My grandfather had made the house entirely, together with much of its furniture. I was entranced by it and its miniature furnishings, and treasured it for many years.
I don’t remember sitting down to eat Christmas dinner, but I do recall vast dishes of mince pies, jam tarts, trifle, cake, etc., waiting for the moment when hunger struck again later in the day!

Another part of the Christmas holiday that was made much of, was New Year’s Eve. Several members of my grandfather’s family had houses in the same terrace row, not far from each other, and they came together on this night, going from house to house “first footing”. My father was the only dark-haired member of the family and so it fell to him, just after midnight, to knock at each house in turn, presenting the household with a bag containing a lump of salt and a lump of coal.There may have been a coin too. The idea was to ensure the well-being of each family in the coming year. As each house was visited, everyone put on outdoor coats and followed in the first-footer’s footsteps. Eventually everyone finished up at granddad’s mother’s house. Although by the time I remember she had been dead for a number of years, other family members lived in the house and kept up the tradition.

Although there were many adults in this extended family, Mollie, Bettie and I were the only children, and we were allowed on this special occasion to stay up late. My father used to make me a fancy-dress costume with crepe paper, which my mother stitched and he decorated with metallic paints and tinsel. I must have made a comic figure in this creation, which was worn over my standard party clothes. But it disintegrated fairly quickly and I was left in velvet dress and dancing slippers.
The one part I disliked was when, on the stroke of midnight, everyone clasped hands and sang “Auld Lang Syne”. This was always followed by tears and sadness that I couldn’t understand, and it made me feel very uncomfortable. However, this outbreak of emotion was only temporary and soon the party continued in a happier state. Aunt Lily was an excellent pianist and spent many hours over the holiday playing popular tunes and well-known classics. It is hard to imagine it now, but apart from a very elderly wind-up gramophone with a bluye and gold fluted horn, the piano was the only source of music at home for us and everyone else.
Christmas continued in this way until the total disruption of our lives with the outbreak of the War in 1939.