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A Christmas Carol 2: The Wedding of Ebenezer Scrooge

Page 21

by Anne Moore


  Tanway Manor was a big house, but even so not all of these people could be accommodated at one time. There were therefore a number of parties and celebrations: on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve, and Twelfth Night, in particular. Almost throughout the twelve days of Christmas the house was filled with music, laughter, and light. All levels of society, rich and poor, young and old, the well-bred and the cottage-dweller, all were mixed together in a (mostly) joyful jumble.

  The main room in which the festivities took place was the Hall, a high-ceilinged and generously proportioned space which lent itself well to entertaining large numbers. Here there was a huge hearth, in which there was always a log fire. And, naturally enough, it was here that the yule log was lit from a fragment of the previous year's. The new log was kept burning for twelve hours, to ensure good luck in the coming year. The half-consumed remains were then stored, to guard the house against fire and lightning, to be brought out again at the following Christmas and so to repeat the cycle. The word yule, Scrooge discovered, was derived from the Norse term for a wheel; and thus turns the wheel of the year.

  To one side of the great hearth was a large Christmas tree, appropriately decorated; it was always of particular interest to children. That first year, and in all later years, it was fifteen feet high, and was covered with glass baubles, small pictures, lollipops, and barley-sugar whistles. Tiny, rosy-cheeked dolls peeped out from behind the greenery. If you looked carefully, you might find a real watch hanging there. Little girls, who had dolls’ houses at home, might here furnish them with a miniature French-polished table, or chairs, bedsteads and wardrobes. Small boys could infuriate their elders by banging on the drums and tambourines which they had unearthed from dark corners. There were books, work-boxes, paint-boxes, humming-tops, needle-cases, bags of sweets, real fruit made artificially dazzling with gold leaf and red paper; and there were imitation fruits, made of papier-mâché, which would open to reveal all kinds of small surprises.

  The walls of the Hall were, as you would expect, hung with holly, ivy, and mistletoe, taken from the woods on Scrooge's land. The mistletoe, at Charlotte's insistence, was cut with a golden knife, and it was never allowed to touch the earth, or it would lose its power. Its chief power, of course, was its capacity to persuade young ladies to be kissed. Scrooge was not above claiming a kiss himself, when the opportunity arose, but when he did he was scrupulous in removing a berry from the mistletoe. When all the berries were gone the kissing would have to stop, but he noticed that some of the young men, disgracefully, took half a dozen kisses under the white berries without so much as thinking of nipping one off.

  On Christmas Eve, the health of all present was drunk from a special wassail cup, made of silver. And later that night, as on all the nights of the celebration, foolish games were played. Riddles were posed. Blind man's buff caused uproar, especially as Scrooge had seen to it that there were wide curtains and shadowy places where young couples might steal a kiss, or even a little more. And there was dancing; always dancing, to a piano and fiddle. Even Scrooge hopped a step or two, after he had taken wine at dinner.

  After it was all over, that very first year, Mr and Mrs Scrooge considered that it had all been thoroughly successful; they determined to do the same, in every year that was left to them.

  To Scrooge, in particular, the events of the Christmas season had been a vivid reminder to him of how much his life had changed in twelve months. He might have ended his days as crabbed, bent, bad-tempered and lonely old man. But as things had turned out, he was happily married, living in the country, and surrounded by good friends.

  There was, however, one memory which particularly hurt and subdued him, and that circumstance did not, of course, go unnoticed.

  As they were clearing away the last of the great tree, and packing up the decorations for another year, Charlotte asked her husband what it was that was troubling him.

  Scrooge paused as he lowered a tin drum into a box.

  'Well,’ he said sadly, ‘when I contemplate the events of this season—the food and the drink, and the dancing and singing and silly games—I cannot prevent myself thinking how much young Billy would have enjoyed it.'

  Part Four

  CHAPTER 31

  Scrooge had lived in the city for a long time. While there, he had seen the seasons come and go, after a fashion, but he had seldom paid them much attention. Now, however, he experienced each nuance of nature at first hand.

  Every morning he worked on the papers relating to his charitable trust, with Mr Cratchit continuing to come down once a week. In the afternoons, Scrooge went for a walk, usually alone.

  He no longer dressed as a city man, but as a country gentleman, and one who was not afraid to get his boots dirty.

  Occasionally he went fishing, just as he had as a boy. It was coarse fishing in the river and the tributary streams which ran through Scrooge's land, and the fish were mostly roach, bream, chub and pike. They were nearly all inedible, and Scrooge normally put them back.

  In the evenings, he read, just as he had always read, and in the course of time he accumulated a substantial library, wide-ranging in its subject matter.

  The rhythm of this daily activity was soon entered into; it suited him, and remained with him for the rest of his life.

  In the course of time, Scrooge came to understand his role in the village of Tanway.

  Whether he liked it or not, he was the squire, with the formal title of Lord of the Manor. He was gentry, and stood at the top of the social tree. Below him were his tenant farmers, with the local tradesmen, and other farmers nearby, also on the second tier; below them were the working population, mostly of farm laborers.

  Although it was a relatively small village, with agriculture its main activity, Tanway also boasted residents who worked in a variety of other useful occupations. There was a dressmaker; a cobbler; a baker; a saddler; a blacksmith and a wheelwright; a carter who sold coal; several bricklayers and carpenters; a laborer who doubled as a barber; and an inn-keeper who ran a general dealership in his back parlor.

  Scrooge was universally recognized as the head of this social unit. It was his job to know all the villagers by sight and preferably by name, and to greet them cheerfully. It was not his business to go into their houses—that was his wife's right and duty. And very welcome she was too, especially in winter, when she provided support for the elderly, the sick, and the poverty-stricken, with gifts of blankets, soup, and the occasional rabbit.

  It was certainly not Mr Scrooge's job to undertake any actual work; and definitely not physical work. Once, when Scrooge was rash enough to start digging his own rose garden, he was watched for a few minutes by his head gardener, until eventually the man could stand this display of incompetence no longer. He seized the spade from Scrooge's hand, with an exasperated cry of: ‘Let I do it, Mr Scrooge! Let I do it!'

  After that, Scrooge learnt his lesson.

  Charlotte Scrooge, as the widow now was, also had a rhythm to her life. Each weekday morning she ran her clinic, and these days it was held in a spare room at the side of the Manor. The local sick and injured continued to flock to her door with an unending series of broken bones, twisted ankles, fevers, coughs, colds, wheezy chests, sore throats, rheumaticky joints, gouty toes, swollen thumbs, and a funny feeling in me stomick, missus. All were treated with patience, kindness, and a combination of herbal remedies and healing hands which proved surprisingly effective.

  Pregnancy and childbirth in the village were dealt with jointly by Charlotte and the local midwife, Mrs Redknapp; the latter was, needless to say, a member of the sewing circle.

  The sewing circle had, of course, its own rhythm of meetings. Scrooge was never invited to participate in the meetings as such—and he never had any wish to be—but he considered himself privileged in that his wife occasionally read to him from her book of shadows. In this way she educated him in the ways of the old religion.

  Scrooge and Charlotte had already agreed that, in hi
s new role as Lord of the Manor, and hers as his consort, they should bring about a revival of some of the old traditions and celebrations which had their origin in the religion of the distant past. Some of these points in the year, such as Christmas, were too well known to require explanation or further elaboration, but some had been half forgotten or neglected, at least in Tanway. Now, the Scrooges agreed, was an appropriate time to inject some new life into them. The object would be not to produce converts for the old religion—Charlotte averred that she did not care tuppence whether people believed in it or not, so long as they behaved themselves—but to provide social events in which all members of the village could participate, and so to strengthen the sense of community.

  Early in the new year, Charlotte suggested that she should have a word with Scrooge about Imbolc.

  'Imbolc, my dear?'

  'Yes, Ebenezer. February Eve.'

  He was none the wiser, so that evening Charlotte explained.

  'In the old religion, Ebenezer, there are eight festivals in the calendar year. They are known as sabbats, and all are related to the movement of the sun and the fertility of the land. The first of these sabbats is Imbolc, which is an old Irish word which means something like ‘in the belly'. In any event, the feast of Imbolc, which some call February Eve or Candlemas, is to celebrate the returning light. It has its origins as a ceremony in honor of the Irish goddess Brigid, who is the Celtic goddess of fire. Brigid is a virgin, and her threefold nature rules smithcraft, poetry and healing. Hence my own interest in her.'

  'Candlemas,’ said Scrooge thoughtfully. ‘Now I seem to have heard of that. Though I never took much notice.'

  'Few people do. But many centuries ago the church took over the pagan festival of Imbolc, as it took over all others, and in the Roman church the second of February is the feast of the purification of the Virgin Mary. It is the day on which all the candles which are to be used during the year are consecrated. In the old religion, the candles were lit to hasten the warming of the earth, and the revival of life. And ideally, Ebenezer, there should be a wedding.'

  'Ah!’ said Scrooge. ‘Now I begin to see.'

  Both Scrooge and Charlotte knew that, in the previous autumn, Sasha had taken her courage in both hands and had explained to her admirer Bradley Bowman exactly how she had lived in London; she had also told him about her liaison with Mr Scrooge.

  Bradley had listened carefully, and thought for a while. Then he had said that it was as well that one of them should have some knowledge of the wickedness of the world, for he knew nothing of it. He had once known a man who stole a loaf of bread, and the fellow had felt bad about it ever since; and he had heard of a market-woman in Devizes who short-changed a customer and dropped dead immediately thereafter. But apart from that he knew nothing of vice and sin.

  As for Mr Scrooge, said Bradley, why he was a hard gentleman on the surface, but he had clearly treated Sasha with great consideration and generosity; so there was no harm in that.

  So, Sasha had said, trembling violently, Bradley would not be too dismayed if she asked him to take tea with her again next Sunday?

  By no means, said Bradley. And, having had said tea, and having had time to think about what she had told him, he had promptly asked her to marry him. No doubt he had been inspired by Mr Scrooge's example.

  'Aha!’ said Scrooge again, his eye gleaming. ‘So Imbolc is the time for a wedding, eh?'

  'It is.'

  'And have you consulted our young friends?'

  'I have.'

  'And they are content?'

  'They are.'

  'Hooray!’ said Scrooge. ‘Then a wedding there will be.'

  Three weeks later, Sasha and Bradley were married in Tanway church. The wedding breakfast was held in the Hall of the Manor.

  The tables were decked with snowdrops; the woods that year were full of them.

  In a rash moment, Scrooge had promised a feast of a thousand candles. In the end, of course, there were far less than that, but there were still a great many. Every sort and kind of candlestick was pressed into use: brass, silver, and iron, they were begged, borrowed, and temporarily purloined from every house in the village. Saucers, jars and fragments of broken pot were also pressed into use, and the Hall fairly blazed with light. None of these candles, of course, was located near anything flammable, and all were carefully watched.

  With the Hall crammed full of guests, the bride and groom entered last. The bride wore a tiara and a white veil, and she looked so beautiful that Scrooge, who had given her away, wept copiously.

  Her husband lifted the veil and kissed her, to great applause.

  Their health was drunk in rum.

  The candles remained lit until sunrise, and with the coming of the sun they were then allowed to go out.

  Later that year, Scrooge took great pleasure in handing over to Bradley the keys to his own butcher's shop in Pewsey. (The retirement of Bradley's employer, encouraged by a generous offer from Scrooge, facilitated this arrangement.)

  'Thank you very much, sir,’ said Bradley, his face beaming and rosy with pride.

  'Not at all,’ said Scrooge. ‘I can afford it. And in any case, I shall expect to be paid back.'

  Bradley looked alarmed. ‘Paid back, sir?'

  'Oh yes. With the birth of a child. And before long, I hope.'

  Bradley relaxed. ‘Oh, yes, sir. I shall do my best.'

  'If it is a boy,’ said Sasha, ‘we have agreed that we shall call him Ben, after you, Mr Scrooge.'

  'And if it is a girl, will she be the new Sasha?'

  'Oh no!’ Sasha shook her head. ‘No, she will be Sarah. For that, of course, is my real name.'

  CHAPTER 32

  'The old folk name for the spring equinox,’ said Charlotte, ‘is Lady Day—which some take to be a reference to the Christian feast of the annunciation of the Virgin Mary. But in the older tradition the lady concerned is Ostara—called Esotre by the Venerable Bede—and she is the Germanic goddess of the dawn.'

  'And it is after her, I take it, that Easter is named?’ asked Scrooge.

  'So it would seem. In any event, the time when night and day stand equal is a time for new beginnings. The Easter egg is a powerful symbol for the emergence of life from apparent death. And it is a time for you and me, Ebenezer, to review our lives and plan new projects.'

  In Mr and Mrs Scrooge's second year in occupation of Tanway Manor, there was a new beginning which provided much pleasure to them both: Sasha gave birth to a baby girl. The child was named, as expected, Sarah.

  The new baby was not, of course, old enough to participate in games, but, for the village children who were of an age for such activities, a treasure hunt was organized. Eggs of all kinds were hidden in the Manor garden, and rewards were provided for those who found the most, or found those which contained treats.

  As for new projects, Scrooge made it a habit at this time of year to discuss with Mr Cratchit such initiatives as had crossed his mind or been suggested to him.

  Most of the work with the charitable trust was reactive; that is to say, applications for funding were made, and the trustees decided whether to approve them or not. But in the spring Scrooge always made a point of initiating one or two projects himself.

  In one year, for instance, he set up a special fund for children at boarding schools who, for one reason or another, were obliged to stay at the school during the holidays. Having been in that position himself, he knew how miserable an experience it was, and he arranged funding so that those children who were not able to go home were made welcome somewhere else.

  In another year he advertised for a medical man who would be willing to undertake research into pneumonia, the disease which had carried away young Billy. He set up a prize to encourage good design; he established libraries and reading-rooms for the working man, particularly in the north of England; he provided grants for able students to travel abroad.

  For all of these schemes, Scrooge became adept at persuading other char
ities and philanthropists to match him pound for pound; in that way his money was able to go much further.

  Perhaps, however, the project which gave Scrooge the most satisfaction, in that second year at Tanway, was one which he dreamed up over Christmas, when thoughts of his late partner came to him once again.

  Scrooge advertised for a young entrepreneur who had some experience of running music halls. He found one: a lively fellow in the midlands. This impresario-to-be had already bought and run successfully a music hall in Birmingham; and he had concluded that there was ample scope for more of the same. Scrooge now proposed that he, Scrooge, should back the young man in establishing a small chain of such establishments.

  Of course, this was a proposal which was in some ways scarcely eligible for charitable funding; it was more of a business proposition. However, Scrooge had been clear from the start that he wanted to be able to provide pump-priming funding for business ventures if he wished, and the terms of the trust provided for that. So, with his fellow trustees’ consent, he decided to make a grant to this particular applicant, to assist him in developing and expanding his business.

  There was to be one condition. The proposed string of theaters must be known, henceforth and for ever, as Marley's Music Halls.

  Cratchit, who was fundamentally a serious man, was very dubious about the whole enterprise. ‘Can't see how this kind of thing does much good,’ he complained.

  'But my dear fellow,’ Scrooge argued, ‘just think of all the fun and laughter that such a place generates. The audience is presented with music, dance, color, humor, skill. What could be more worthwhile than to cheer up and entertain, at the end of a long hard day, those who have been working in commerce and industry?'

 

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