Classic Christmas Stories

by Frank Galgay

  Captains of English vessels when here, our own foreign going local coastwise and sealing captains, prosperous outport planters, the elite amongst our city people such as merchants, prosperous shop-keepers, master tradesmen, office, hardware and dry goods clerks, were the principal patrons by day as well as night, but the place was so well conducted that there was never any exhibition of unseemly brawls.

  As there were no clubs then, such as we have today, the clerks spent most of their evenings in the billiard room over the store where many learned to become expert wielders of the cue. The clerks particularly those in the many dry goods stores at that time, were the gayest and best dressed boys in the city. They were mostly smart young men brought here by the buyers from England, Scotland and Ireland, besides a number of local city chaps and a few young men from the outports who soon after their arrival here became assimilated into the wiles and conventions of the cosmopolitan aggregation. As a group the clerks were considered by parents, with marriageable daughters, to be the best matches in St. John’s. They were the life and soul of every household gathering and public party, hence were ever welcome into the homes of the well-to-do. Neatly dressed as they always were, and possessing splendid entertaining abilities in the line of vocal, instrumental, and other histrionic arts, they outclassed all others in the city and so it was a proud day for a mother when she could boast that her daughter was engaged to a “clark.”

  The flat over the shop at Lash’s consisted of an extensive billiard room, with three tables therein. This flat was set apart the first of December for the annual cake lottery. The billiard tables were so covered as to display, along with shelve space around the walls, the 250 Christmas cakes that were given out as prizes when the lottery ended up about a week before Christmas.

  The cakes were master creations of the best professional city bakers such as Joe Wilson, Tom Charles and Will Goudie and their like in size and attractiveness have never been displayed since. The first prize was a wonderful amazing creation. It was as high as a flour barrel and of the same circumference as the latter at the base, tapering off in a three-tier massive construction, surmounted by a large and most attractive ornamental adornment, with each tier of the cake also decorated with artistic scrolls of confectionery. The contents of a full barrel of flour were used up in the making of this first prize, and with the flour there was also mixed up a firkin of butter, about 50 dozen eggs, a sack of sugar with many boxes of raisins, currants, spices, citron, lemon and orange peel.

  The second prize was also a wonderful cake being about two-thirds the size of the first one. The third was another unusually large one but only about half the size of the latter. Then the sizes diminished till they got down to cakes of ordinary dimensions, the number of prize cakes in all numbering 250.

  The price of tickets in this lottery was one dollar each, and they were sold at a desk, in the corner of this flat, at which sat one of the young lady attendants. When purchasing a ticket she numbered it for you, then recorded it for future reference if necessary. The tickets were gradually bought up from day to day and were generally all disposed of by the 15th of the month after which there was a drawing for the prizes, this being conducted by several representative citizens. At the conclusion a large sheet of cardboard was displayed on one of the walls, showing the winning numbers, and accordingly those who held the lucky tickets came and collected their prizes.

  The winning of the first prize was the greatest event of the season. It transcended every other matter however so important, whilst the winner became a national hero, eclipsing in celebrity for the time being, even the Governor, the Chief Justice and the Premier. The most prominent among the winners of the first prize was George E. Bearns, then a dashing young business man of the city and elder brother of William E. Bearns, grocer of Duckworth St. From a position of ordinary everyday commonplace importance George E. at once automatically ascended the heights of renown in the eyes of all St. John’s people. He became the envy and admiration of everybody, and for long after could not pass along Water St. without being pointed out, amazingly and admiringly, as being the man who won the first prize at Lash’s. Even after he left St. John’s, remaining abroad for many years before returning, the renown attached to his extraordinary luck at Lash’s was but little undiminished, for if, when he came back, you were passing along Water St. with one of your friends, and George Bearns appeared in sight, the first thing your friend did was to tell you that George was the man who won the first prize at Lash’s in a certain year.

  The winner of the second prize one season was Private Secretary Mundy, an Englishman attached to the staff of Sir John Hawley Glover, then our Governor. The distinction he thus gained, whilst not as great as that which attached to the winner of the first prize, was very little less, so for long after Mr. Mundy ceased to be referred to as the Governor’s Private Secretary but as “the Mr. Mundy who won the second prize at Lash’s.”

  The lottery cakes having been distributed the decks of the billiard room were cleared for action to stage the dice raffles. This feature was in charge of Joe Wilson, one of the chief bakers, who supervised the several round tables on which the dice were thrown and which were attended by a couple of volunteer assistants at each, these gentlemen being regaled at intervals with cigars and such liquid refreshments as they desired, as well as being presented with a free cake on Christmas Eve as a reward for their good and faithful services.

  The series of raffles began about 3 o’clock in the afternoon and continued till the crowd petered out nearing the midnight hour. At each table the names of all those entering for a throw were taken down in a pass book until 20 persons, at 20c. each, were in, when one by one the names were called off and each participator took his turn at the dice box. The maximum throw on the pair of dice was 36, the minimum 6. The rooms were always fairly well crowded during the raffle hours but it was a male assemblage exclusively as no women were then daring enough to venture into such a gathering. Very rarely were the maximum figures reached, the winning throws wavering on the average from 28 to 32, and occasionally reaching the fewer higher prizes up to 35.

  There was a sort of mild sensation when anyone was so fortunate as to throw 36 and one of these is remembered in the case of William Carnell, then a dapper, lively and popular young salesman in Edwin Duder’s dry goods store. He not alone won the first cake that was put up on the dice that season, but he also astonished everybody in wining it on a throw of 36. He entered the room in an unconcerned manner just in time to have his name placed upon the pass book as the 20th man. Then the throws began, rising gradually to 25, 30, and then 35, after a dozen men had thrown. Then the young man Carnell stepped in where others feared to tread, confronted by such a large throw, and in a jiffy rattled out, one after the other, three 12’s, thus scoring the maximum and carrying off the splendid prize. That evening he was induced to set it up on a game of 45’s at a dollar a head for six players. To complete the sextet he entered himself and again won the cake in spite of a 2 out and 40 against him in the play off with his opponent. Then he set up the cake again, at 50 cents a head, but was quite content when he lost out this time. On his way home however that evening he entered Lash’s again just as the last cake was being raffled. He had barely time to get his name down, and then when the contest was on he had to face the high throw of 32. Out came the pair of dice from his box to display three cheerful 11’s and so William marched home triumphantly with another gorgeous cake.

  These raffles continued for a period of about a week, ending up on Christmas Eve. From their commencement in the afternoon until their ending at night a continuous stream of men and youths entered the rooms to try their luck. Every one of such who had a shilling to spend made the venture, and many a household could boast that it had succeeded in winning one of Lash’s celebrated cakes. Some lucky families could boast of having won four, five or six of such, and many were very much discontented and disappointed that their luck had failed and so they were unable to sufficiently enjoy th
e Christmas season with none of Lash’s cakes adorning their sideboard. The lucky families in some neighbourhoods engendered envy and jealousy amongst the unlucky ones, and as a result many a boy and girl, children of the former were pelted with more than their average share of snowballs, for weeks afterwards, because their fathers had succeeded in bringing home one of Lash’s cakes.

  Business was always brisk around the dice tables; there was no shouting to come along and try your luck as the table presiders were kept going, without a stop, entering the names of all participators. Neither at the entrance of Water Street was there any necessity to proclaim the raffle by the blowing of horns or the ringing of cowbells. The fact that the raffles were on was quite sufficient to attract the multitude from all around the city, and so no alluring accessories were needed in the least. As those who won the cakes, and there was a winner every few minutes, passed down the stairs and out into Water Street, with their prizes held aloft on their outstretched palms, they usually had to pass, in the early evenings, amidst a double file of awe stricken children who gazed in bewilderment at the choice trophies. To add to the Christmas effects the streets at that time were generally covered with a light snowfall whilst sleigh bells jingled all over the town as if rendering a musical accompaniment to the festive season.

  It was a week which witnessed also a profuse display of turkeys, geese, chicken, hind and fore-quarters of beef, legs of mutton, whole carcases of pigs, particularly at the premises of J. & W. Pitts, Clift Wood & Co. and at Dryer & Green’s market under the Court House clock, that good old clock which tolled the hours in strong vibrating tones, heard at their clearest when the traffic of the day had ceased. Then also every butcher’s stall was filled to the hatches, so to speak, with quarters of beef as well as veal and mutton in abundance, the beef dangling from strong hooks inside the stalls or so displayed on door and window hooks as well as being spread out also on temporary stands along the sidewalks.

  The Christmas cakes, the poultry and the beef in such abundance and at prices within the reach of everybody, were inseparable from the Christmas seasons of those days, not as they are now only something to look at by most people and to be possessed by but a limited few.

  As the last cake was raffled at Lash’s it presented to us the virtual closing of the pre-Christmas characteristics, such as the bringing home of the cakes and the poultry and the witnessing of the festive displays in the store windows along Water Street with here and there the ever familiar figure of Santa Claus beaming benevolently upon all beholders.

  But there was one other feature yet to be witnessed before the curtain would ring down as Christmas Day was only an hour or so off. This was the midnight serenade of the Total Abstinence Band, a happy custom that prevailed for many years but which in time ceased also, leaving behind it a recollection only of all its pleasant associations and the memory of those who took part in those events.

  The members of the Band assembled at their hall annually at about 11 p.m. on Christmas Eve; then, as the midnight hour approached, they proceeded to parade upon their rounds rendering lively melodies which floated along in the winter air to the delight of all citizens. The serenade was confined to the homes of the Society’s principal officers, and at such stopped, here and there, to play suitable Christmas music upon their instruments.

  Amongst the homes serenaded were that of Patrick Reardon, President, on Long’s Hill; that of M. J. O’Mara, Barrister and one time member for St. John’s East, a later President, who lived on Cochrane St.; that of Joseph Lynch, another of its Presidents, who lived at the foot of Barter’s Hill. Also there was a serenade played outside the homes of Wm. J. Myler, Vice-President, on Victoria St., and of James Clancy, Treasurer, on Prescott Street.

  An appreciative audience gathered around to listen to and enjoy the serenades, whilst many looked on and listened in also, from the neighbouring houses. As the music played and glistening snowflakes gently fluttered and descended upon the brightly burnished band instruments, under the flare of the gas lamps, the effect was joyful and impressive, and one destined to linger long in the memory of all who witnessed it.

  Then after each serenade the members of the Band were invited into the respective homes of their officers to be regaled with cake and tea, or lemonade and other such temperance drinks.

  The most prominent members of the Band, at present recalled, were Pat Dawson who played the piccolo; Tom Grace, father of P. J., the baritone; his brother, Wm. Grace, the sliding trombone; P. J. O’Neil and John L. Slattery, first cornets; Pat Wallace and Pat Hickey, tenors; H. V. Simms, euphonium; Wm. Courtney, bass, and Tom Connors the big drum. All of whom were good musicians and with many others who joined from time to time contributed much to the success of the Society’s annual parades on New Year’s Day and on other festive occasions during the year in which they participated.

  Shortly after midnight the serenades concluded, then silence descended upon the streets making the termination of the pre-Christmas scenes and events.

  And so to bed, as Pepy’s wrote, for all of us there to lay for a short few hours, until just before the joy bells rang out upon the air at 5: 30 in the morning, when we joined the throngs on their way to the R. C. Cathedral upon the hilltop to attend at the celebration of the 6 o’clock High Mass, then the first Mass celebrated on Christmas Day, but which was later changed by Archbishop Howley to the previous midnight hour.

  Happy days will come again, as they have come and gone at other times, but they will never be any happier than when Lash’s cake lotteries marked the Christmas season and when the T. A. Band played their midnight serenades around the town.

  To look at Lash’s building now in passing, or to step inside and gaze upon its walls, makes one ponder and exclaim, as Tom Moore did “I feel like one who treads alone some banquet hall deserted.” But there is a pleasure in recollection of those days, notwithstanding their departure. There is also the feeling that the boys of today will never have any such pleasant recollections of Christmas Eve, as the boys of those days of old experience when fond recollections present to their view the scene of the T. A. Band parading the city and playing their serenades at the midnight hour on Christmas Eve.

  A Look Back at Christmas ’48

  by Pat Doyle

  “THE CHALLENGE WILL BE met. Howsuccessfullyit will be met will depend on all of us.”

  These words inthe NewYear’smessage of Newfoundland Board of Trade President Lewis Ayre on Jan. 3, 1949, appear to reflect the thought of many Newfoundlanders in that Christmas season 25 years ago, as they prepared to give up their independent status and become citizens of the much larger nation of Canada.

  As Christmas 1973 rapidly approaches its high point, and the province prepares for next year’s 25th anniversary celebrations, many Newfoundlanders’ thoughts are undoubtedly reflecting back to that Christmas in 1948—a few, however, even today, with a kind of mixed emotion.

  Some observers on the scene today say they feel there were no sorrowful regrets during that Yuletide season which followed the long and bitter struggle for Confederation, but there are others who recall a Christmas tinged with more than a little feeling of bitterness.

  “Christmas is Christmas, ” said former mayor of St. John’s H. G. R. Mews, 76, leader of the Progressive Conservative Party in 1949, who feels there was generally no adverse feeling on the seasonal festivities in 1948 because of the Confederation issue.

  Mr. Mews added that most people were actually looking forward to Confederation as they figured that they would be better off . . . “and indeed, they were.”

  There were no sorrows, he said, but in fact, there was perhaps “a feeling of thanksgiving.”

  Mr. Mews, who was defeated in the 1949 general election in St. John’s West, following which he became mayor of the city, summed up his thoughts with the suggestion that “we have a lot to be thankful for.”

  Poultry farmer Greg Power, Joe Smallwood’s chief lieutenant in the fight for union with Canada, who became a cabine
t minister but later fell out with Mr. Smallwood and resigned, also feels the Confederation issue had little effect on Christmas 1948.

  He suggested that most of those who had voted against Confederation had acted out of sentiment rather than for a specific case.

  Mr. Power said what most people seem to overlook is “what a wonderful vote Responsible Government got and how bad its case was.”

  He doesn’t feel there was much bitterness remaining by Christmas as people had gone through a couple of years of real tough competition and they knew “it was going to be better” after Confederation.

  Hon. W. J. Browne, a PC Member of Parliament for a number of years, and a former federal cabinet minister as well as MHA also says he doesn’t recall “any particular sorrows or regrets” 25 Christmases ago.

  He said that once the final terms of union were signed in Ottawa, on Dec. 11, 1948, Confederation became virtually a fact, and benefits to come such as the “baby bonus, ” and improved old age pensions were being outlined for the people.

  Most of those who had opposed Confederation soon turned over he added, and he pointed out that in the 1949 provincial election, the Liberal Party under Mr. Smallwood won 22 of the 28 seats, with five going to the PCs and one to independent Peter Cashin, who had been one of the chief leaders of the Responsible Government movement.

  In fact, about 14 of 22 Liberal seats were won overwhelmingly and most of the other eight districts gave Liberal candidates comfortable majorities.

  Mr. Browne was one of a group of people who, in early December 1948, tried unsuccessfully to stop the move toward Confederation by court action.

  There are other observers, however, who feel quite distinctly, that there was not such a harmonious feeling during that last Christmas as an independent country.

  A. B. Perlin, associate editor of the Daily News and long time political observer, gave some indication of that in an article entitled “History of Modern Newfoundland, ” in Volume Four of the Book of Newfoundland.