A Christmas Carol 2: The Wedding of Ebenezer Scrooge

by Anne Moore

  Cratchit was unconvinced. ‘Dens of vice, those places are, Mr Scrooge. Rude songs, carryings-on in the gallery, loose ladies in the bar, and pick-pockets waiting for you when you come out of the door.'

  'All true,’ said Scrooge. ‘But if those who frequent the music halls were not watching the show, they would only be in the pub. I prefer the former arrangement. So we will make a grant.'

  'And what about the name?’ said Cratchit. ‘What's Mr Marley got to do with it?'

  'Why, he was the sourest, bitterest, most po-faced and humorless man that ever lived,’ said Scrooge. ‘What better joke could there be than to name music halls after him?'

  Cratchit grumbled on. ‘In any case, the young gentleman may not agree to that condition. He may want his own name over the door.'

  'Oh, he will agree all right,’ said Scrooge. ‘Just wave the check book under his nose, Cratchit. That will do the trick.'

  In the course of time, Scrooge's grant to that young man proved to be one of his most spectacular successes. The entrepreneur flourished, his empire expanded, and substantial profits were made.

  Although the original funding had been in the form of a grant, which did not call for repayment, the grateful owner of the company soon paid it back in full, with additional sums in later years, saying that if Scrooge could use the money as wisely as he had in the first instance, he was welcome to more of the same.

  Before long, to Scrooge's everlasting amusement, the name of Marley became synonymous throughout England with a good time on a Saturday night.

  CHAPTER 33

  According to Charlotte, May Day was called Beltane in the old religion, and was so named after the Celtic god of light, Bel. The first of May was also, Scrooge pointed out, the midpoint of the five-day Roman festival in honor of Flora, the goddess of flowers.

  All of which set Scrooge thinking. After five years as Lord of the Manor of Tanway, and husband of the lady in charge of the sewing circle, he had realized that customs and traditions were perfectly capable of being changed and developed; of being bent, if the fancy took one, to conform with one's own ideas of what constituted fun or a worthwhile activity. So it was that, in his fifth year at Tanway, Scrooge decided to organize May Day to suit himself.

  He began (after discussing the matter with his wife, of course) by approaching the Vicar of Tanway, the Reverend Mr Green.

  The Vicar had been in Tanway for ten years now, but he was still a relatively young man: no more than thirty-five, Scrooge guessed. To Scrooge, the Vicar was Mr Green in more ways than one, for he seemed to live in a dream world of his own, pottering round the place with a vacant smile on his face. He was the youngest son, by a long way, of a well-connected family, but had no money and no prospects of any.

  For a while Scrooge wondered whether drink was a cause of the Vicar's amiable vagueness ; or possibly an even more exotic substance, such as opium. But no. Everyone assured him that Mr Green was a perfectly respectable gentleman, with no vices whatever. He was interested, almost exclusively, in the study of nature. Flowers, insects, and birds were his passion, and he spent his days observing them with evident pleasure and satisfaction, making copious notes on their comings and goings.

  The Vicar knew, of course, the Latin names of every conceivable plant and creature. Human beings, on the other hand, he found hard to identify. Church services he also found difficult to remember, and sermons were inclined to be short, and recycled. But no one really minded, for he was the kindest and most considerate person you could hope to meet. Just a bit forgetful, that was all.

  Eventually, Scrooge concluded that the Bishop had deposited Mr Green in Tanway because it was an obscure, out-of-the-way spot where he could do no harm to anyone.

  Scrooge began then, with Mr Green.

  'My dear sir,’ he said, having served the gentleman with tea and a slice of cake, ‘you will have observed, I am sure, that my wife and I have made it our habit, wherever possible, to preserve and continue the old country customs.'

  'Indeed,’ nodded the Vicar. ‘I have observed that, with much pleasure and interest, Mr ... er....'

  'Quite,’ said Scrooge. ‘And we hope—in fact we try very hard to ensure—that nothing we do, or encourage, or support, should find itself in conflict with the teachings or practices of the church. For it would be unfortunate, in so small a community, if we were to sponsor or approve of anything which might cause embarrassment or dismay to yourself.'

  'Very considerate,’ murmured the Vicar, whose eye was momentarily distracted by a jackdaw outside the widow. ‘And much appreciated.'

  'That being the case,’ said Scrooge, ‘I would like to explain to you what I have in mind for a little May Day celebration.'

  Which he proceeded to do. He then asked for comments.

  The Vicar put down his cup of tea. ‘Have you ever heard of a gentleman called George Herbert?’ he asked.

  'No, I can't say I have,’ said Scrooge.

  'Herbert was a Wiltshire man. Rector of a parish down Salisbury way. He wrote a helpful little book which was, in essence, a guide to country parsons. In it, he argued that a country parson should be a lover of old customs, provided they are good and harmless. If they are not good, he should pare the apple, so to speak, leaving his flock with the parts that are wholesome. And what you have described, Mr ... er ... , sounds wholesome enough to me.'

  'Splendid,’ said Scrooge.

  So it was that May Day of that year, and for many years to come in Tanway, was celebrated as a public holiday, at least in the afternoon. And it began with the May Queen riding on a horse through the village.

  The first Queen of the May was a cheerful sixteen-year-old girl called Nancy, the baker's daughter; she had been chosen from a short list of three. Applications had been invited, and Scrooge had been rather surprised by the number of volunteers. However, it was more tactful, he felt, for the choosing to be done by Charlotte rather than himself, for the Queen of the May was, of course, to ride naked. For Scrooge to have been involved might have been thought prurient. And perhaps, that first year, the fact that young Nancy had a mass of long golden hair was also a factor in her selection. For the hair provided, to begin with at least, a modest covering for her bosom if not for the lower parts.

  Wearing no more than a head-dress of flowers, the Queen paraded on horseback (and she did not ride side-saddle) along the length of the village street; she arrived at last at the Manor, where she came through the gates to loud cheers.

  In the Manor garden, where the maypole was erected, she remained on the horse and declared the May Fair open; as she did so she threw her arms sideways, in a gesture which both symbolized the act of opening and, simultaneously, gave the spectators a glimpse of charms which had previously remained hidden. Even louder cheers resulted.

  The May Queen then slid down from the bare back of her horse and was promptly provided with a white cloak, on which were embroidered golden flowers. Cries of ‘Shame!’ were heard.

  The Queen's arrival was followed by a carefully rehearsed dance by the village children. The dance took place, of course, around the maypole, each child holding a ribbon which was fixed to the top of it. The dancers proceeded both clockwise—that is to say, moving as the sun moves, or deosil—and anticlockwise, or widdershins.

  To those who asked, and even to those who did not, Scrooge explained that this dance symbolized the interweaving of life and death. The maypole itself was a symbol of fertility, and in an agricultural community there was nothing more natural than that.

  Later in the afternoon, a team of six men from the village performed an ancient ceremony known as the reindeer dance. It was so called because, during it, each man held a set of antlers above his head. Whether these antlers actually came from reindeer Scrooge very much doubted, but they had been found lying in a barn, neglected for decades, and only the very oldest members of the community had any memory of their being used in the past.

  Much earnest debate had ensued about exactly how the reindee
r dance had been performed, and Scrooge had had to buy many a pint before memories could dredge up even a semblance of the routine.

  There was general agreement that the dance, by six men, had been preceded by a tour of the neighboring farms, but the steps of the dance were the subject of fierce argument. Eventually, however, a format was devised which satisfied all; and the ritual, having once been revived, was performed each year on May Day for as long as Scrooge lived. (And for many years thereafter.)

  The May Fair offered all the usual attractions of a small country gathering: a coconut shy; pony rides; a fortune teller (Mrs Redknapp, the midwife, disguised as a gypsy, with an upturned goldfish bowl for a crystal ball); a game called boule (French, it was alleged); and several stalls where you could buy such things as a belt or ribbons or a brooch at special prices.

  Refreshments were available, generously provided free by Mr and Mrs Scrooge. Those who became bored, and some of the younger folk did, were free to wander off into the woods and collect May blossom; or occupy themselves in other ways.

  In the evening, young men lit bonfires on the village green, and a few cattle were driven between them for good luck. Some of the bolder youths leapt over the top of the fires, for the same reason, with no more harm done than an occasional singe.

  As for young Nancy—that first May Queen—she caught the eye of a young nobleman from Devizes. Word of Scrooge's intention of having the May Queen parade sans her clothes had spread some distance, it seems, and the gentleman had ridden three hours to see what he could see. What he had seen evidently met with his approval, for he was married to Nancy within three months, and she gave birth to his heir nine months later.

  After that, there was never any shortage of candidates for the office of Queen of the May. The guinea which Scrooge traditionally gave the young lady for her trouble was considered irrelevant, when compared with the other opportunities which the post provided.

  Young Nancy was not the only one who benefited maritally from that first of Scrooge's May Days. The Vicar, Mr Green, was also wed soon after.

  It came about in this way. Mr Green, it was noticed, did not avert his eyes from young Nancy's charms. Indeed he remarked to Charlotte Scrooge, more than once, upon how beautiful the May Queen was. ‘It makes me realize,’ he said sadly, and without any guile whatever, ‘how much I am missing by remaining a bachelor. But then,’ he added, ‘of course no one would ever have me.'

  The sewing circle considered the matter, and decided that marriage would do the Vicar nothing but good. A search was therefore instituted, and before long word was received of a Miss Haines, of Calne.

  Miss Haines was in her late twenties, and of a good family, but she remained single as a result of what was, by common consent, the plainest face in the county and a pronounced lack of income. Somewhere along the way—accounts differed—her father had contrived to lose such wealth as he had inherited, and until recently she had lived a sheltered life with her elderly mother. Now the mother was dead, and Miss Haines occupied her time with charitable works.

  This single lady was a good-hearted soul and she had many hidden virtues which the local gentlemen had overlooked. The chief of these, according to her dressmaker, was that she had a splendidly voluptuous figure which was capable of providing much satisfaction to a considerate husband; said figure was currently, and criminally, going to waste.

  The sewing circle set to work, the couple were brought together, and before long a proposal was made and accepted. Only one task remained.

  It was widely believed that Mr Green, though expert in botany and the like, was hopelessly ignorant of human physiology. Miss Haines, likewise, had led a very sheltered life. Since it was the sewing circle's view that, on a wedding night, it is useful if at least one party has some idea as to what goes where, Mrs Redknapp was deputed to give Miss Haines instruction. ‘Think of it,’ Miss Haines was advised, ‘as a sort of confirmation class.'

  Miss Haines proved to be an apt pupil, though astonished by what she was told, and on return from her honeymoon declared that the whole experience had been a revelation, both to her and her husband.

  Before long, the vicarage required a room to be converted to a nursery.

  CHAPTER 34

  On Midsummer's Eve, Charlotte always cut and stored five plants. These, her book of shadows told her, would on that night have special powers. The five plants were rue, roses, St John's wort, vervain, and trefoil.

  In the eighth year of her marriage, Charlotte was assisted in this task by a young friend called Sarah, who was Sasha's daughter. Sarah had two brothers and a sister but those three were, as yet, too young to help. Besides, Sarah was slightly special. Charlotte could see that she had the mark upon her.

  At the end of that same week, the Manor was the site of a cultural celebration, of sorts. Scrooge was not much interested in music, but each year at this time he hosted a concert, or perhaps a performance of Shakespeare. The house was open to anyone who wished to attend, but usually the audience consisted mostly of gentry. This year the entertainment was provided by a choir from Bath, who sang a series of songs through which Scrooge dozed peacefully and quietly.

  At the interval, he was prodded awake, and he realized that he had had an interesting dream. Later that night he told Charlotte all about it.

  'You remember the white horse at Westbury,’ he said.

  'I certainly do.'

  'And you have heard of, if not seen with your own eyes, the Cerne Abbas Giant.'

  'I have indeed.'

  'Well it suddenly occurred to me, in my dream, that what we need is something of that sort at Tanway. What we need, my dear, is a wise woman.'

  Charlotte gave him a look of amusement. ‘Is that so, Ebenezer?'

  'Well that's what I think anyway. How would your goddess feel about it?'

  'Flattered, I should think.'

  'There is no prohibition about graven images and the like?'

  'None.'

  'Very well then. We will put Tanway on the map. We will carve into the hillside an image of the goddess, and we will call her the wise woman of Tanway.'

  On the hills which rise from the Vale of Pewsey, and elsewhere in the south of England, solid chalk lies close under the thin surface soil. Uproot the grass, scrape away a few inches of dirt, and you have a bright white material staring you in the face. This circumstance has permitted the creation of a number of pictures or images, carved into the side of hills. A line cut into the chalk, perhaps two or three feet wide, can be seen for miles from the plain below.

  Most of the hillside images have traditionally been horses, but occasionally human figures are seen. The Cerne Abbas Giant, to which Scrooge had referred, was famous for being in possession of a large, erect phallus.

  Scrooge now set about designing his female figure. He recruited an artist from Bath, who after several iterations came up with a simple but bold outline. The artist, a rather shy and retiring type, needed several attempts before he could bring himself to outline a bosom of sufficient generosity to satisfy his sponsor. Allowance then had to be made for the fact that the hillside sloped, and this would have a foreshortening effect when the figure was seen from the plain below. Eventually, however, Scrooge had a suitable design.

  Next, a team of men, women, and children was recruited to carry out the work on a succession of Sunday afternoons. A free lunch was provided, and a party atmosphere reigned, the general cheerfulness of the participants being enhanced by the thought of being paid for their labor at the end of the day.

  The hillside which Scrooge had chosen was on his own property, half a mile north of the village, where the escarpment rose steeply. The land there was far too steep to plow and all that would be lost was a few square yards of grazing.

  Scrooge and the artist marked out the design with a hundred or two colored flags, and both men supervised the digging. Occasionally Scrooge would descend to the plain below, view the work from there, and bellow up comments through a megaphone.

&
nbsp; In a month, the figure was carved. And a fine figure of a woman it was, one hundred and thirty-one feet from head to toe. It was no more than an outline of a human being, of course, with no subtlety of detail, but it was female in every respect, just as its counterpart in Cerne Abbas was male.

  Scrooge was delighted. ‘Life,’ he said, ‘is fleeting. Nothing endures for ever. The light which is so strong at Midsummer will fade before long. But it is for each man to leave some sort of a mark on the world if he can, and this one, at least, will outlive me.'

  Not everyone, however, shared Scrooge's enthusiasm.

  Three years after she was created, the wise woman of Tanway attracted a stream of criticism from a clergyman who visited the Vale while on holiday. He was a man in his fifties, short of stature, and suffering from gout which made him remarkably bad-tempered.

  On hearing that the hill figure was of recent origin, that it lay on Scrooge's land, and that it had been created at Scrooge's command, the clergyman called on that gentleman and roundly abused him for his creation.

  'This figure,’ the clergyman fairly howled, ‘is an incitement to immorality, sir! It is wickedness incarnate, and it should be erased from the hillside immediately! Why, I have seen with my own eyes, young people climbing upon it and frolicking!'

  'Frolicking, sir?’ inquired Scrooge mildly.

  'Yes, sir, frolicking!'

  'Oh, I do hope so,’ murmured Scrooge.

  The clergyman, quickly recognizing that he would get nowhere at the Manor, stamped off the to vicarage to seek support from a fellow churchman.

  But the Reverend Mr Green was no help to him either. He said that the figure reminded him so much of his own dear wife that he really couldn't take exception to it.

  Mrs Green just smiled happily.

  The visiting clergyman, reluctantly accepting defeat, returned to his parish in East Anglia. On arrival there, he went down on his knees and thanked the Lord for making sure that the land there was perfectly flat.

  The clergyman's attack was so ferocious that it caused Scrooge to wonder why his figure was so feared. He inquired of his wife as to whether she thought it possible that the wise woman might have some restorative or stimulative properties, as was the case with Adam's Pillar. Charlotte said that she wasn't sure. The lady was a bit new to have accumulated any powers as yet, but perhaps they should ask her and see.