by Frank Galgay
In those days people didn’t start doing their Christmas shopping months before the season. In fact, in most of the stores the Christmas stock was put out only a week or so before Christmas—just long enough for Father Christmas to have time to make his selection on his pre-Christmas Eve reconnoiterings.
Since often it would be the middle of the night when we made our appearance to see what Santa had brought we usually went back to bed after we had looked at the presents, taking a favourite toy with us. As no one was inclined to sleep we would arise much earlier than usual and have breakfast by lamp light so there would be time to play before church, for we were not allowed to forget that Christmas was essentially a religious festival and at 11 o’clock on Christmas morning we left our toys, rather reluctantly I’m afraid, and went off to church. The sacrifice, I am forced to admit, was made less painful if among our presents was a new article of clothing which we could wear on that occasion.
The first heralding of the Christmas season, as far as children were concerned was the commencement in November of practice for the Christmas school concert, which was always one of the highlights of the season. In those days there was no radio, no television, and in small towns no movies except occasionally a magic lantern show, put on, perhaps, by a visiting clergyman and featuring Biblical scenes or pictures of the Holy Land, designed to uplift rather than entertain, so the school concert at Christmas was a big event in our lives and there was great rivalry for a part of it. The programme included such items as solos and recitations, drills and dialogues, exercises and singings, as we called any vocal item in which more than three or less than twenty people took part.
The concert usually took place two or three nights before Christmas and there was always a half holiday in school.
We wore our best dresses—sometimes the ones that Santa Claus brought us a little in advance, which would, for the rest of the winter be our Sunday dresses. We left off our long johns for the occasion, thereby running the risk of catching our death, for the school in which the performance was held was heated only by a pot-bellied stove and of course most people came on foot, for there were no cars in our town at that time.
During the intermission homemade candy was sold for 5c. a bag— horrible concoctions for the most part, as I remember them. Then, at the close of the concert came the most thrilling part of all when Father Christmas appeared and dispensed presents to all the children from the large tree set up on the platform. He would come in through an entrance at the end of the school or hall and go bounding up the aisle ho-ho-hoing all the way in a manner frightening to the very young. I well remember how terrified I was the first time I went to such a performance, much too frightened to go up and collect my gift when my name was called.
Because the performers in the Christmas concert were always children the affair ended as soon as the presents had been given out, so it was not followed by the usual tea or games in which adult concerts concluded, and tired but happy the children wended their way home and to bed, joyful in the knowledge that this pre-Christmas visit of Santa was but a foretaste of wonderful things to come.
It was hard to go back to school the next morning and settle down to work for the two or three remaining days before the Christmas holiday and I’m afraid we didn’t accumulate much knowledge in that period. There was always a half holiday on the last day, and while we were in the lower grades a feature of the last session was the dispensing of apples by the teacher, four of the older pupils having the enviable job of walking up and down the aisles and passing one out to every child.
I remember on one occasion when I was very small, I had placed my apple on the desk while I was putting on my coat and one of the big boys ran off with it, which assumed the proportions of a catastrophe, although an apple was not really a great treat for me. In spite of his early start in crime, the boy grew up to be a respected citizen but I never see him without thinking of my stolen apple at that Christmas season.
The making of the Christmas cake was always an exciting part of the pre-Christmas activities and all the female members of the family assisted in its production. The candied lemon and citrus peel would be cut up in small pieces, the raisins and currents and other delectable ingredients measured and floured, and part of it, I am afraid, sometimes surreptitiously slipped into our mouths. Since there was considerable stirring to be done, almost everyone took a turn at it. Finally, the cake was ready for the oven and for the long slow bake in the big black iron bake pot, with usually a small portion in a baking powder tin for “tryer.” When it was in the oven, the kitchen doors had to be kept closed and the family was warned to walk softly lest the cake sink, but nobody minded because it was part of Christmas. The cake was put away until Christmas Eve when it re-appeared to be iced and decorated with “hundreds-of-thousands” or tiny coloured candy and was the “piece-de-resistance” for the Christmas evening tea when it was set in the centre of the table on a high glass plate looking much too attractive to be cut up and eaten.
Another pleasant feature of Christmas was decorating the Christmas tree which had been cut in the nearby woods. It was usually set up and decorated after tea on Christmas Eve, tea being the traditional one in Newfoundland outports on Christmas Eve, of roasted salt fish and hot mince pie, and all the family got in on the trimming act. Many of the decorations were homemade but none the less attractive and there were gay coloured candles, lighted for only a short time each day because of the fire hazard.
The highlight of Christmas day was the mid-day dinner. Turkey was a rare bird in the distant outports of Newfoundland and usually didn’t figure on the Christmas menu. Instead, there might be a duck or a lordly rooster well fattened for the occasion, followed, of course, by a dark, rich, heavy Christmas pudding which nobody really wanted because of having eaten so heartily of the main course, but which everyone sampled nevertheless, because after all Christmas only came once a year. After dinner the children played with their Christmas games or toys and tried out their new skates or sleds until the time came to light up the Christmas tree at dusk.
Christmas night ushered in a gay social season, which continued until January 6th. During that time many of the grownups went “jannying” or “mummering” every night.
On the last night of the season the mummers were always out in great numbers and the feasting and merry-making reached a peak. The small fry would be allowed to stay up a little later than usual, and even after we went to bed we would sometimes creep out to the head of the stairs so as not to miss any of the excitement going on below, or if it was a moonlight night scrape the frost off the windows so that we could watch the antics of the mummers going by. It is of course an illusion, but somehow it seemed that there was always moonlight during the Christmas season. As we finally drifted off to sleep the jingling of the bells which the mummers sometimes carried with them and the gay tunes they played on the accordion as they strolled homeward in the moonlight mingled with our dreams and became part of the magic of Christmas.
Christmas Celebrations Changing in the Outports
by Jim Rockwood
HAS THE NEWFOUNDLAND OUTPORT Christmas really changed that much from those of yesteryear?
Undoubtedly there havebeenchanges—the result of anumber of factors, not the least of which are the vast improvements in transportation and communication methods—which have resulted in a decrease in the number of small communities and an opening up of those that remain.
Today, with roads, television, radio, telephone and telegraph facilities inhabitants are not isolated to the same degree as in the past.
Accordingly, there has been a change in the celebration of Christmas, although a typical old-fashioned Christmas can still be found and it does not require a trip to some remote location.
It can be found in many small communities which exist near larger towns.
Here, residents still seem to be closer knit than those in the larger centres and as a result it shows in their celebrations which sees Christmas the biggest
and longest.
However, even the length of the Christmas celebration is changed.
True, Christmas extends from Christmas Eve, until Old Christmas Day, but commercialism has resulted in its beginning long before.
Commercialism, which some feel is destroying Christmas, has seen Christmas start in late November when stores put up their Christmas decorations, inaugurate their Christmas shopping hours and begin spreading their Christmas shopping propaganda via all mediums.
By beginning interest in Christmas in late November some feel the interest in “the big day” itself is diminished.
Christmas in the outports usually started Christmas Eve, although preparations for the celebration got under way a day or so before.
The women of the house started preparations by cleaning house and baking the many treats needed for the 12-day event that lay ahead not to be left out, the men made their own preparations, not the least of which was filling the liquor cabinet with either “store bought” or that well known other method known as “moonshine, ” slightly illegal mind you, but certainly didn’t detract from the taste.
Christmas Eve itself was a time for putting all in order for the big day. It meant an excursion to the woods by the men folk and children to select that “just right” tree for the living room. Then it was off home to decorate it.
Evening saw the children off early to bed awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus, while the older folks went off to midnight service and then home to bed.
Bed, however, offered little sleep for the young. At or before the crack of dawn it was downstairs—no one minded the cold floor because the stove wasn’t lit yet—and into the presents.
Christmas morning saw the family off to church as a unit, normally without mother who stayed home to cook Christmas dinner. Whether it be wild duck or goose, whatever meat was available or if possible that wonderful turkey, Christmas dinner was a treat fit for a king.
The table would be laden down with vegetables—mostly grown in the back garden—along with breads, buns, cakes and of course the traditional boiled Christmas pudding.
The majority of Newfoundlanders in the smaller outports were fishermen or farmers and accordingly couldn’t afford a holiday during the five months of the year when they had to make a living. So, when Christmas came it “certainly made up for the summer vacation that a farmer or fisherman could not have, ” said one person who lived for a number of years on the south coast.
The 12-day period was one of continuous parties, teas, socials, dances, times and of course the “mummering” without which a Newfoundland Christmas would not be complete.
Starting on Christmas Eve, children and adults would disguise themselves in old clothes, cover their faces and visit other members of the community. When they would arrive at the door, they’d ask “any mummers tonight, ” and when invited in would sing and dance before unmasking and receiving a piece of Christmas cake and a “drop of good cheer.”
Unfortunately, mummering is something that just about disappeared.
A noted Newfoundlander a few years ago, in an address to a local service club, said that mummering is not something which originated here, but is “as old as man himself.”
Lodges and societies were an integral part of Newfoundland outports and during the Christmas season each in turn had its “time.”
These were for the entire community. Children played and frolicked while the adults danced to music supplied by accordions and fiddles. Food was in abundance. Hard beverages were not provided at the “time, ” but many the man and younger person who sneaked outside for a “nip.”
In addition to the community-wide activities, Christmas was a time for visiting friends and neighbours. Whenever one visited a neighbour’s home they were required to taste the Christmas cake and sip a drop of rum or wine while the children got the traditional syrup.
Times are changing, the traditional outport Christmas with it. However, while adults may find changes, for children Christmas remains a mystical and wonderful experience.
Could it be that the child’s ability to believe in fantasy makes the difference?
Christmas, noted Reginald Sparkes, a former speaker of the House of Assembly, some years ago, is “a microcosm of our culture” and reflects every shade of us.
Western civilization has achieved a goal of affluence during the recent decades, but “nothing can be had without a price.” We gained a whole world, but have lost the ability to enjoy pure fantasy.
Maybe the only way to get back many of the fast-fading customs of Christmas past is to become like little children for one day, and in so doing recapture the feeling of good will and only then will Christmas be not a “feast of remembrance, but a feast of beginning.”
Christmas can be what every individual makes it.
Quaint Christmas Customs
by P. K. Devine
NEARLY EVERY CIVILIZED COUNTRY intheworld has its customs and superstitions peculiar to Christmas, and to this rule Newfoundland is no exception. Our forefathers brought their traditions with them from England, Ireland and Scotland, and they are, though gradually dwindling away, still handed down to their descendants, to this day, especially among the people of the outports.
On the “French Shore, ” at midnight on Christmas Eve, a live brand from the Yule-log is solemnly taken out doors and thrown over the house, to preserve it from being burnt down the coming year.
Peculiar observance is attached to the crowing of the cock on Christmas night, and it is a common thing in Bonavista Bay to hear the people say, when the cock crows in the stillness of Christmas Eve night, “He is scaring away the evil spirits from the Christmas Holy Day.”
Most people believe, too, that the cattle kneel at the Manger when the cock strikes twelve.
On Christmas Eve, at Broad Cove (Bonavista Bay), a custom brought from Ireland by the generation of hardy pioneers, long passed away, is still religiously observed, and is believed to ensure plenty of provisions and good times during the coming year. A loaf of the Christmas baking is cut into four parts by the housewife, and a quarter thrown to each such side of the house, indicating plenty from north, south, east and west.
It is also believed that the deer kneel on Christmas night, and it is a common thing for those who go in the bottoms of the Bays “on winter works” to stay up all night to watch the caribou kneeling on the snow.
This custom is also peculiar to the woodmen of Upper Canada, where the lumbermen and hunters also believe that horses and cattle have, on Christmas night, the gift of speech, but that to play eavesdropper on them means death before the New Year.
This belief is also common in Switzerland. According to an Alpine legend, a doubting servant once hid in his master’s barn yard on a Christmas Eve, to prove to his neighbours that they were fools to believe such trash. Upon the striking of twelve, he heard a farm horse say, “We shall have hard work to do this day week.” “Yes, ” replied his mate, “the farmer’s servant is heavy and the way to the graveyard is long and steep.” Upon New Year’s Day, the servant was buried.
In French Canada, Christmas is still marked among the farmers by many of the old customs brought from Brittany by the early settlers. The children are told that the domestic animals have the gift of speech on Christmas Eve, as a memento of their presence in the stable when our Blessed Saviour was born. The little children are taken to the Midnight Mass to see the Manger with the Infant Christ lying therein, and the ox and the ass in the immediate foreground.
Under the French regime the Midnight Mass was always saluted by the firing of the guns at the fortress, at Quebec, five times in succession.
In Russia, the home of “Santa Claus, ” it is easy to believe that special observances are attached to the celebration of Christmas Eve. At sunset the peasantry go in procession to the houses of the local dignitaries and serenade them, when money is lavishly distributed among them. At sunset a sacred feast is held, after which the nobleman, or “little father, ” as he is called inv
ites the peasants to behold a gigantic pine tree prepared in their honor and decked with gifts which he distributes among those present. Herein can be recognized the counterpart of our Santa Claus.
In Norway and Sweden, every member of the household must bathe on the day before Christmas. In the evening, the Bible history of the Nativity is read in every home, followed by special prayers. In the villages, among the peasants, a candle is placed in every window to guide Kristine (Santa Claus) on his way. A pan of meal and sheaf of wheat upon a pole are placed at each door as an offering to the friends of Heaven, the little winter birds. Games and dances are held in many of the houses on Christmas night, the parties, like in our own Newfoundland, being often interrupted by masquerades, who sing and dance a pantomime, and are at the conclusion rewarded with cakes, sweetmeats or money. The small boy also have customs peculiar to themselves, and clad in white pass from house to house, one of them carrying a star shaped lantern, representing the Star of Bethlehem, and another a box containing two images to represent the Virgin and Child.
It will be seen that there is certain resemblance in all the Christmas customs of northern Europe to our own, which is very interesting to trace, and shows that they all had a common origin.
Telling fortunes, by melting lead, on Christmas and New Year nights, is a custom still kept up among the ladies in at least one village I know of in Newfoundland. It is invariably done to obtain some knowledge of what kind of a looking fellow the future husband will be, and whether the result will confirm the omen of the cards and about the “dark-haired man across the water, ” or not.
In Poland when the marriageable maiden yearns to get an idea of the appearance of her future husband, she draws a stick at haphazard from a heap of wood on Christmas Eve. As the stick proves to be long or short, straight or crooked, so shall the husband to be. She next proceeds to find out his occupation, by dropping hot lead into cold water. The lead will form an imaginary plane (carpenter), or a last (shoemaker), pair of scissors (tailor), and so on, to all the trades. This practice is still kept up on New Year’s night among the peasantry of England and Ireland.
