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A Night with the Christmas Waits

See that knot of people in front of that open cottage door. What are they doing? They seem to be anxiously watching the clouds as they flit across the face of the moon ...

Well, that little fellow resting against one of the side posts of the door can play can play very well on the bass viol, and that tall gentleman at the front, with his back against the lamp-post, can manage to play a few tunes, which he has practised until they are miserably threadbare, on the little violin. They ought to change instruments, do you say? Well it might seem more appropriate for the little fellow to have the little instrument but it must not be because the big gentleman cannot manage the big fiddle. Behind the latter you observe two females, one of whom has a very good treble voice, and her companion can sing the soprano parts of a few tunes she has learned by rote. That little gentleman on the right side of the window can sing alto, and although his voice may not be the sweetest possible, yet he has one quality in perfection - he can make himself heard. That tall gentleman on his left (Mr.Baritone) can sing a little bass and, although his rendering of some musical passages is base with a vengeance, and his trainer pronounces him not quite tuneable, yet he is allowed to join this company because he either is, or thinks he is, paying his addresses to Miss Treble. That young gentleman without beard or whiskers, who has just joined our friend at the lamp-post, is a very fair tenor and would fain become an intimate acquaintance of Miss Soprano but she happens to have a more favoured friend elsewhere, whose companionship she greatly prefers. That steady-going gentleman, who is conversing with Mr.Violoncello, is able to take any part you like, but prefers bass. He is, in fact, the leader and trainer of all the singers in this little band and indeed, without his guiding voice, it is thought Mr.Baritone would often be a bar behind or a tone too low.

Well these ladies and gentlemen have been practising every night for upwards of a week, and they are now satisfied that they have got a dozen pieces of music thoroughly well up. It is now Christmas Eve, at ten o'clock. Yes, they are carol singers and they are looking at the clouds to see whether it is likely to rain, or to snow, or to be fair or fine after midnight ...

After some details of another practise, the narrative continues:

They are about to retire, some to get a cup of coffee, others to get washed and dressed up a bit. But who is this coming up in breathless haste? She does not stop to knock at the door but opens it, bolts in, and does not keep them long in suspense; for she informs them tat she has learned that Mr.Jingle, whose services had not been sought by this company, has formed a company of his own and is going round with a clarioneteer for a leader, and has arranged to call at certain places as soon as the clock strikes twelve. ...

Mr.Leader declares that Mr.Jingle will, with his lot, be able to sing nothing but some of the old threadbare carols; but as he is going to some of the very places they have fixed upon for the same time, they must change their route, for they must not have their good singing spoiled by his bawling gang being too near ...

...

Suddenly the clock strikes twelve - nay, one it might be for only the first stroke is heard, the remaining eleven being drowned by the louder and more harmonious sounds of a merry peal of bells, announcing to the inhabitants of the surrounding neighbourhood the return of the anniversary of that glorious morn when angels sang to the shepherds of Bethlehem that hope-inspiring anthem "Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace and good will towards men"

...

... the carol singers are out. They have come to a door and stopped. "Christians awake" is pealed forth with all their might. Then follows an anthem and a ran-tan on the door. The owner is a good natured soul. He opens the door, lets them in, and gives them a shilling. But he does not stop here. They must have something to keep out the cold and he has some pretty good mountain dew, which is the best thing possible for such a purpose and he is so obliging as to hand over a bottle to their tender mercies. Having each had draught, they give another specimen or two of their favourite pieces and march off to another house ...

The narrative details more visits and a clash with Mr.Jingle's company of singers:

An angry altercation takes place, the result of which is Mr Jingle gives up the street to them and passes on into another. Mr.Leader and his company now march off, followed by only a few boys, for it is now four o'clock and most of them have tired and gone home, and begin to sing before a gentleman's house who has a very pretty servant maid; but this is more for the sake of serenading the servant girl than for the purpose of getting anything from he master or mistress, for Mr.Alto has a strong desire to make himself agreeable to this pretty damsel. The master of the house knows his voice, and to reward him for disturbing his rest, quietly opens the window and empties the wash basin on the heads of the musical party, which not only washes the head of Mr.Alto but spoils Mr.Violin's fiddle strings.

They are now disposed to think that they have had enough of waits for once and so have I, and I beg to wish you merry Christmas and a happy new year, and make my exit.

from the Preston Guardian, 9th Jan 1858

Read a scan of the complete newspaper article HERE

 

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