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As part of our study of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, the Grade Seven students read a lot of background information on the Victorian era, which they used to weave authentic detail through the following historical journals.
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A Victorian Journal (Excerpts) by Emily
December 17, 1844
Eight days ‘till Christmas and I can hardly wait! Presently I’m in my room listening to the noisy hustle and bustle of servants running to and fro. Before I go on, this being my first entry, I shall introduce myself.
My name is Liza-Jane Thatcher and I’m eleven years old. I live with my parents and younger sisters Charlotte and Emma. We live in a large, white townhouse in Mayfair, London. My grandfather owned a well-run business so he was extremely wealthy. Unfortunately he passed away leaving our family and my cousins family with his wealth. My father and his brother have just been newly appointed as members of Parliament. With this and the wealth from my grandfather, it insures my family is of the Upper Class.
With Christmas growing near, there is much to be done. This morning I helped Mamma make a wreath to hang on the door. We created it out of pine boughs, pine cones and berries that Papa and Charlotte collected. Emma had assisted Mamma in getting the dried fruit we needed. Charlotte is seven and Emma four, both too young to help construct the wreath.
After hanging it, Papa set about to find some greenery. He returned with boughs of fir, pine, cedar and evergreen. All five of us hung and draped them over doors, walls and railings. The pleasant odours of fresh greenery quickly filled every room.
Papa rushed out once more to fetch ivy, holly and mistletoe.
Mamma stitched some of the holly trimmings onto our lace curtains, giving them a festive look. I tried to imitate her, but unfortunately I didn’t make my stitches small enough so the holly fell off! Charlotte and I fastened the leftover holly and berries to the edges of the mirrors and picture frames. Mamma told me that holly was associated with protection against witches. She said the thorns were symbolic of Christ’s crown and the berries of his birth. Emma loves to play with the berries whilst I just like their little round shapes.
We wound all the ivy through chains in the chandeliers twisted them around banisters and attached them to mantels and doorways. Ivy supposedly protected against drunkenness, but I’m not sure I believe it.
Mamma and Papa made sure the mistletoe was put in the right place; hanging over the parlor doorway. Charlotte and Emma giggled hysterically when I explained it is custom to kiss whoever stands under the mistletoe with you. Mistletoe is also symbolic of fertility, according to Papa.
With the remaining boughs, holly, ivy and mistletoe, we made beautiful garlands topped with flowers and pinecones. These we rested on the fireplace mantel and window ledges.
Our advent wreath had all but one pink candle twinkling. This last one would be lit next Sunday to mark the fourth and final week. Each of the candles have a different meaning, these being love, faith, joy and peace. A tradition for my family is that each person chooses a candle and represents that meaning. Each person lights the candle they represent. This year, Mamma and Papa are Love, Emma is Peace, Charlotte is Joy and I am Faith.
Charlotte and I set up the Nativity scene, which is where Mary, Joseph, Christ Child, The Three Wise Men and various other animals are in the stable in Bethlehem. We placed this display in the Parlor so it can be readily noticed on Christmas Day. The Parlor looks splendid and ready for social gatherings. We have candles twinkling in every window to light the way for baby Jesus. Everything looks champion!
My writing must end now for Mamma is calling me.
Yours Truly,
~Liza-Jane Thatcher~
Dear Diary, December 24, 1844
There is so much to write about today for it is Christmas Eve and every aspect of the house looks beautiful! I have neglected to write about the last few days and for this I am sorry, dear diary, but today I shall make up for it.
Earlier this morn mamma and papa took us in the carriage to buy the perfect Christmas tree. We passed many people and no one could help but be merry. The cobblestone roads were crowded with children and adults selling coffee, fish, fruits, vegetables and flowers. Crossing sweepers occupied nearly every street corner, hoping to earn enough money to buy a little food and drink.
We came to a forest and, hopping out of the carriage, scurried around to find the best-looking Christmas tree. All of us found ones we fancied, but eventually chose only one. Papa told our coachman, Jacob, to chop it down while Emma, Charlotte and I threw snowballs at each other.
Half an hour later we found ourselves back inside the parlor drinking hot apple cider and warming up by the fire.
Papa placed the tree in a stand on the parlor table and brought in some decorations we have made in past years. I decorated the tree with fruits, nuts, pine cones, homemade items, hand-stitched dolls and children’s mittens. I also used small toys such as miniature furniture, musical instruments, toys, fans and purses. Emma and Charlotte made strings of popcorn and berries while I baked sugar cookies. These items were also added to the tree with the finishing touch of candles and a silver star.
In the late afternoon our friends the Cromwells came by for a visit. Dora, Rose and Henry spent the time tobogganing down the hill with the three of us. We were having such a pleasant time that mamma invited them to stay for supper.
Our maid, Marjorie, produced a marvelous meal which was quickly eaten. Papa and mamma had engaged Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell in a conversation about how the roads had improved greatly making travels much easier when we heard a knock at the door. In stepped two more families and friends. Soon the house was bubbling with laughter and merriment.
In the ballroom was a band playing music for anyone who wanted to dance. All of the children (including myself) were playing charades, singing, dancing to piano music, listening to Christmas tales and performing plays complete with homemade costumes. Outside the snow continued to fall providing many activities to look forward to such as sleigh rides, tobogganing, skiing, ice hockey, skating, snowball fights and snowman building.
The night passed quickly when mamma and papa announced that it was time to go to Midnight Mass. All six of the families who had come over piled into carriages and rode with us to church. The church was exquisitely embellished with evergreen boughs and candles. All of the pews were full of men dressed in their silk cravats and waistcoats and women in beautiful evening dresses. The minister described Christmas as a time full of sentimentality, romance, sense of family, piety, colour, feasting, drinking, charity, singing, dancing and fun!
After the service we parted company with our guests and sleepily returned home. Papa had earlier brought in a large oak log. This was the Yule log we lit today and would keep burning until Epiphany. The three of us eagerly hung our stockings on the fireplace mantel and sat a moment to warm up beside the huge blaze. Mamma had embroidered an L on my stocking, a C on Charlotte’s and an E on Emma’s making them look grand.
Papa read us "A Visit from Saint Nicholas" and what a jolly person Saint Nicholas is. He dresses in a long red robe with a hood trimmed with white fur to create a brim. Papa then sent us off to bed. I stayed awake to write this, diary, but sleepiness is starting to take over my ability to keep my eyes open. I’ll write more tomorrow.
Yours Truly,
~Liza-Jane Thatcher~
Dear Diary, December 25, 1844
It’s Christmas! I woke early this morning just as the sun was coming up over the horizon.
Emma, Charlotte and I ran downstairs to the parlor to see if Saint Nicholas had come. Indeed he did! All three stockings were filled to the topand bulging. Presents were piled on the table and hung on the tree.
The church bells rang, waking up the town of London. Mamma wandered into the kitchen to prepare breakfast while Papa told Jacob to run outside and fetch more firewood.
After having eaten a delicious meal we all went to church for the morning service. I think every person in town was there! Even more than last night!
Returning home we were permitted to open our stockings. Charlotte, Emma and I all grabbed them from the mantelpiece and sat down in front of the glowing fire. In my stocking I found a little porcelain-faced doll, a wind-up toy, a sewing kit and many brightly coloured candies of all shapes and sizes.
"Oh, mamma, papa, they’re beautiful! Thank you so very much!" I exclaimed.
Emma and Charlotte were also quite pleased with what they received.
Mamma happily suggested for us to open our Christmas boxes.
I handed my sisters their gifts and sat with mine. I held a large, colourfully wrapped box to which I opened in a flash. I pulled out a beautiful china tea set. Now I could pretend to be grown-up and have tea with my friends! At the very bottom of the box I noticed a leather-covered book. Pulling it open I found a paper angel pasted to the front page above black lettering. "Liza-Jane’s Scrapbook," I read. "Famous! It’s so beautifully made! Thank you mamma, thank you Papa! I shall treasure it forever!"
Emma received wooden building blocks, a small wind-up toy and paper cutouts. Charlotte found an intricately made dollhouse under the tree along with a wonderball that she started knitting right away.
We urged Mamma and Papa to open their gifts to which they obliged. I bought mamma a new dress and papa a new pair of trousers.
Bundling up in scarves, mittens and coats we went out caroling. Everywhere we went "O Come All Ye Faithful" could be heard. Tis the season to be merry! We walked from door to door singing, collecting gifts and money to give to the less fortunate. Many families shared Wassail with us. It’s a delicious punch containing sherry, cider, ale, lemons, spices and roasted apples.
Returning home friends and relatives came over to enjoy the remainder of the day. We had Pantomimes perform special plays based on fairy tales. The costumes and sets were extremely extravagant. All of the children enjoyed playing parlor games such as Blindman’s Bluff, Ministers Cat, Charades and SnapDragon.
The dining table looked perfect including a few special utensils like asparagus tongs, oyster forks marrow spoons, fruit knives and finger glasses. When mamma called everyone for Christmas supper, eighteen merry people immediately found seats. Marjorie brought out pot after pot of steaming food, but before eating, everyone opened their Christmas crackers followed by Grace.
Finally we were able to enjoy an excellent meal! It consisted of:
First Course: Soup, Fish, Fricassed Chicken, Entries of Beef, Oyster Patties, Curried Rabbit
Second Course: Roast Turkey, Boiled Leg of Pork, Stewed Beef and Roast Goose with sage and onion dressing.
Third Course: Partridges, Charlotte aux Pommes, Christmas Plum Pudding, Apple Tarts, Orange Jelly, Mince pies and Meringues.
Fourth Course: desserts and ices.
Drinks: Wine, Clarets, Punch, Teas and Coffee’s.
The Plum Pudding was capitol! Marjorie lit the brandy on fire, making it look amazing. There were a total of four sixpences hidden in the pudding and I found one of them! After supper was finished the children and I played a few more games. We played The Cobweb game, Bag and Stick, The Memory game, Literary Salad and Poker and Tongs.
Papa along with the other fathers decorated the carriages to look like sleighs. Everyone piled in and snuggled together under the warm fur blankets. The horses started trotting with the sound of bells ringing on their collars and snow crunching under their hooves.
Slowly we dropped everyone off at their houses until it was only our family left. We rode back to the house and were sound asleep by midnight.
Yours Truly,
~Liza-Jane Thatcher~ |
A Victorian Journal by Alex B
Dear Diary: July 2, 1840
June 2nd, was the last time we slept in our own home. Mother was crying as she packed up a few belongings for the workhouse. I, on the other hand, only took two things-this very diary and my special blue ball dress. That way I could always remember happier times, when I didn't worry about getting through each day and each miserable night.
Memories flowed through my mind-mother ringing her small silver bell, summoning Anna, our faithful servant, to serve afternoon tea. Tasting her delicious honey crumpets, sitting before a warm fire, watching the dancing flames. It had a soporific effect on me as I curled up on the cozy armchair and drifted off to sleep. But now there is no bell ringing for steaming pots of tea. There is only grim and intimidating Cripplegate Workhouse, not far from Fleet Prison where my father is.
When we arrived at the workhouse, we were stripped, searched, washed and had our hair cut off. Mother sobbed at the sight of my golden locks falling to the ground. I managed to hide my blue dress under the coarse, grey uniforms we were handed.
Then I was separated from my mother and rudely pushed down the hall. I passed a room, with a horrible smell coming from it. The room was full of bones and people were crushing them. I found out later that the crushed bones were used for fertilizer. I glanced back into the room and witnessed several people picking scraps of flesh off the bones and eating it! How perfectly horrid!
Afterwards, when I found out how measly our meals were, I could understand why they did that. We were given no cutlery and had to eat our food with our fingers. The dining room was dead silent, no one dared to talk or they would be cruelly beaten.
Our breakfast was a small piece of bread. Lunch was another small piece of bread or potato with a tiny bit of bacon. Dinner-bread again with a minuscule piece of cheese. And they expected us to work on that starvation diet.
I was assigned to work in the kitchen. Rising as 5 am, I worked until dark-scrubbing the burnt caked-on gruel from the pots, washing floors, peeling potatoes, and being slapped if I wasn't fast enough. The only thing that made the experience bearable, was that I would occasionally glimpse my mother across the yard in the laundry room.
At night I would look up through the tiny window in the room where 40 of us slept, and see the glistening silver stars. I cannot stop the tears from running down my cheeks.
Elizabeth Rose Remington
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A Victorian Journal by Will
September, 27, 1839
Today was a famous day full of games, sweets, and merriment. It was my birthday today and I am proud to be 15 years old. I had a party with dozens of friends new and old celebrating with me this great day. From my dear little sister Constance I received you: a diary which I will tell everything to. I am sure we can be marvellous friends even if you are just a book. Father is Barron Ramsbottom and mother is the Baroness. Mother bought me a very novel item from a shoddy old street vender in London, yet she only paid half a crown. I don't know if it has a name but it is like a miniature model of a steam engine. The contraption has a candle on the bottom with a round tank above containing water. It makes steam and turns a small wheel that goes extraordinarily fast. I loved this gift but not even near to how much I like You.
We live in the country but tomorrow Father's going to take me to our townhouse in London. Oh how I do love it in the fantastic city with merchants of all kinds at every corner and Westminster Abbey with its capital stained glass windows and marvellous architecture. It is wonderful to get away from my home in Surrey for a while. Well cheers for now old chap Father is calling and it would be rude to make him wait.
Richard Ramsbottom
November, 28, 1839
Thank the great lord I found you. What are the odds after two whole months floating around in the Thames you finally showed up. Since we last chatted my life has been to hell in a handcart and I am living between two floors of a house. I have taken the profession of a mud lark and every last ounce of dignity has been stripped from me so violently.
It all began that gusty September evening in our horse drawn carriage. My father had been into his gin cabinet again and was much disoriented. His hat was on crooked and his shiny hairless head was glistening in the sunset. As we were traveling along he drank more and more from his green foul smelling bottle which made me very nervous. It however did not make me nearly as nervous as what he was saying. He began to talk with words that were meaningless and was laughing very hard. As we came nearer to London the streets grew more crowded and father grew even odder. I am not daft I knew it was from the gin but I had never seen him quite like this before. Minutes passed it seemed like hours but before I knew it father had drawn his handgun and was firing shots into the air. I leapt out of the carriage onto a nearby patch of grass. While jumping I tried to take you with me but I accidentally dropped you into the Thames. I gulped as I saw you drift away but was brought out of my trance by a loud shot and screams of "OH DEAR THE PRINCE HAS BEEN SHOT". Large men began to race after me and my father. They caught my father but failed to catch a youthful lad like me.
I ran and ran until I reached Paddington train station where a great big steam train was chugging along heading to the station near my home in Surrey. Realizing my golden opportunity I made haste to the champion machine, and jumped on the bright red caboose. After climbing on to the roof and I slept. My limbs are getting weak and I need to sleep. Diary, I shall continue to tell my tale tomorrow. Ta ta for now.
Richard Ramsbottom
November, 29, 1839
Oh how the chilly air gets to my bones when I have only a rag and a tattered excuse for a cap. Well luckily I have the house to stay in, but I am getting ahead of myself. Where did we leave off? Oh yes, I had just boarded the train to Surrey and was enjoying a greatly needed nap upon the roof of the dining car. I dreamed well actually I had nightmares the whole way back to my home in Surrey.
The whistle shrieked followed by a bustle of bodies entering and exiting. I climbed off the locomotive with a great deal of hassle, but made it down to the station all the same. Our estate was just around the corner and I could easily walk.
When I arrived there I was taken aback by the sight I was seeing. My mother and sister Constance were being pulled away by two gigantic bobbies. The one who was grasping Constance was making her cry out in pain. I was livid with rage and could not control my anger, so I threw myself on the evil man and tried to set Constance free. Silly me I just made the situation worse for me by committing myself to a month of hard labour in prison.
I was once again sent back to London the city I was beginning to ha…I have to go, for the house keeper is in, and I must be off. Ta
Richard Ramsbottom
December, 12, 1839
Good day diary. You will never believe what this blobby filth infested river has done for me. I have found a jewellery case lying on the left bank. To my dismay it had no jewels in it but it was composed with a mixture of copper and gold. I gave it to the dealer on Fir Street who appraised it to be worth four pounds. He gave me my Four but I knew he would sell it for eight. Well I am dreadfully sorry about that, you have no clue of what is going on. We left off on the carriage ride back to London the city I was beginning to hate. On the way the guards placed black bags over our head so we were unable to see. Constance whispered in my ear these exact words "no matter what happens no matter what they do you can remember my by the diary I gave you, do you still have it?"
"Yes" I fibbed "it is in my back pocket" I uttered these words with dread and shame. Not one word more was spoken until our arrival. Just the noise of hoof beats and cracking whip were our only company on the long road ahead.
For the next few weeks we were forced into doing hard labour at Master Hinton's Work house for Criminals. We were with our parents in the sleeping quarter but worked in separate jobs. Alas we could never speak to them for if we spoke we would be beaten by guards. I worked on the treadmill for six hours a day without rest. Constance being too weak to work the treadmill sewed and knitted with all the other young girls. Dad and Mum worked god knows where. All I know is they were somewhere on the other side of the grounds.
This whole time I lived, I don't know how but we did. Every night however, I saw Constance's spirit fade just a bit more than the night before. It crushed me to see her in pain like this. I too was in pain and could have sworn my legs would fall off if I had stayed a day longer. Being quite good at math I counted that we did two thousand steps, two hundred rotations of the wheel, and ground one tonne of grain per day. If you do not think that is a lot then you just better try it for yourself and see what it feels like. I should stop now because I am weary and need sleep for my hard days work tomorrow.
Richard Ramsbottom
December, 14, 1839
Christmas is coming with a bittersweet wind of regret, joy, and despair surrounding it. Well I admit that telling you my story eases the pain just slightly.
Every day enclosed in the dark brick walls I could notice every fly, hear every drop of perspiration, and ponder about my escape. While walking on the treadmill I always noticed a thin beam of light flooding in from the south wall. Every day this beam seemed to grow. After meal time I would try to splash some of my remaining water on the tiny aperture.
A week after I had been doing this regularly we were having a normal yet gruelling day of labour. As soon as I saw the prison master fall to rest I jumped off of my post and slammed the hole with a stone and owed just to my good luck it crumbled leaving an opening three feet by one foot. I wanted to leap straight through but I could not leave without Constance. I ran to the sewing room where she should have been but I only saw guards rushing towards me with clubs. I had no choice but to flee. I ran as far as the road would take me until I reached Oxford Circus. I was breathing faster than a steam engine but I could not come to a halt. I turned into a small alley way that led into the back of a tavern. I saw an old barrel that had once contained Gin, so I covered myself with some filthy rags, and climbed in. I waited for an eternity in the putrid stench of the barrel. I can not tell how long but soon I fell into a deep sleep.
I was awoken abruptly by a well dressed chap in a black top hat. He had a pocket watch dangling pendulously from his breast pocket and seemed to be angry or annoyed with me. "Leave boy!" was all he shrieked at me before I dashed off once more. This time I did not run very far before I found my destination. In Eaton Place where all the townhouses are there was a house with a loose board sagging from between the first and second story. I tried to shift it but it wouldn't budge. So I took hold of an old scrap of metal lying on the floor and shaved out a hold just big enough for me to squeeze through. Inside I was amazed. It was almost two feet high and extraordinarily wide. I crawled in and was surprised at the warmth and spaciousness of this place. There was a crack in the wood so I could see a family devouring a roast. I needed food.
To be concise I started looking for items to sell from the banks of the Thames. I was a mud lark as we are called by the general public. Many think we are dirty little children, but I make myself a handsome profit doing what I do. I don't regret it but my stomach has a wee bit of trouble with the smell. Good night diary I shall see you again soon.
Richard Ramsbottom
December, 19, 1839
Wile staring down my little crack in the roof boards I have learned a great deal of the Cromwell family's lifestyle. I like to view them in their happy family scene. Brandon is six and Lorna is nine. They argue about little things but are mostly good friends. Lorna is about Constance's age but is much smaller. She has fair hair and blue eyes. Brandon on the other hand is quite portly for his age, and very uncontrollable. I would never say he was a brat because he is rather polite to his parents and the house keeper Eleanor. Oh how I envied their fun, games, and most of all their hot meals. Since I bought some paper about two weeks ago I have been writing a story about an old money lender named Ebenezer Scrooge who saw three ghosts that changed him forever. I called it the three ghosts of Christmas and I plan to sell it for a pound or two to the publisher on Baker street. I got the idea from a man who walked down the street wearing a black cloak and had a cane to mach. People feared him and I could not let these ideas escape from my head. Br the time it was complete I had been writing for three days straight without a stop for a meal in between. I loved this book and would never let it go into the wrong hands
Richard Ramsbottom
December, 23,1839
My bad luck continues, and to my disappointment the novel has been stolen from my closet. It was by some fiend named Charles Dickens. I know because I saw at the news stand a book called a Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. Being my curious self I stole it for this novel was as expensive as pepper and my wealth had crumbled into nothing. I was infuriated by this, but there was nothing a poor outlaw could do to stop it. But if I find the fellow who stole my novel I will give him a piece of my mind. I can not do anything about it so I will not bore you with my mindless rage.
The season is upon us with its glory and joy. The trees are up and you can not find one man on the street who will not wish you well for Christmas no matter your name or social stature. The Yule log is in the fire and is ready to be blazing for the twelve days of Christmas. The advent ring had three of the four candles spreading a heavenly glow upon the entire room. The presents were wrapped and under the tree. Mistletoe hung from the ceiling where many people enjoying a kind hug or kisses as they passed by.
All the parties that the Cromwell family had were splendid fun to observe. They would play games and dance for hours on end. My favourite game used to be the minister's cat. Sometimes when they were playing I got so caught up in the champion game that I just had to join in. Wise, worthless, white, and then there was a pause. I tried to suppress my response but it just came out "Wonderful" I yelled with glee. There was a long silence after what I had proclaimed because everyone was baffled as to who said it. After ten, eleven, twelve seconds Mr. Cromwell who had been drinking a lot of the punch began to laugh heartily. Soon the guests and even I were in stitches trying to hold our sides together. This week truly has been wonderful except for the unfortunate event that dropped me back in the financial world a tad. Merry Christmas Diary I will talk to you after the great feast.
Richard Ramsbottom
December, 25,1839
"God bless ye merry gentlemen" rings through the house up to my room along with the sweet odour of sherry, cider, ale, lemons, apples, and exotic spices in the wassailing punch. I have my very own Christmas tree now. It is just a little bow torn off the large tree downstairs, but it has one candle and a pair of dried out mittens from the river beneath it.
The children were all up and doing in the early morn before the sun had risen. Before you could blink an eye the living room floor was carpeted in rubbish. Brandon and Lorna were playing with their toys and woollies in the corner like they hadn't a care in the world. A champion breakfast of bacon and eggs was served, and the children devoured it hungrily.
After everyone was dressed they headed off to church on their horse drawn sleigh. While they were gone I crept in and scoffed the leftover bacon, and snuck a few roast chestnuts. When the Cromwell family returned they were in high spirits. I saw and smelled the Christmas pudding cooking in the kitchen and the turkey beginning to cook. All the excitement and fragrance made me weary and I soon drifted off into dreams off sugarplums and juicy turkey stuffed with sage and onions. I awoke just in time. Mr. Cromwell was saying grace with his head bowed. As soon as the word amen was uttered there was a bustle of plates clanging together and the sound of food being served. The first course consisted of steamy oyster patties, fricasseed chicken, tomato soup. There was more food on the table than I had eaten this whole past year. This was a feast but I could barely believe there were three more courses left. I used to eat like this on Christmas, but those memories were so far away that I did not believe them myself any more. I grow weak thinking of what my family are doing in that dreadful workhouse. I feel greedy when I realize that I left my family in a rubbish heap while I get to celebrate a fabulous Christmas here at the Cromwell house.
The second course came with twice as many wonderful foods as the last. There was a marvellous roast turkey, stewed beef, boiled pork leg, roast goose with sage and onion dressing. Each course was more wonderful than the last. The third course had partridges a plenty, plum puddings, apple tarts, orange jelly, and mince pies. The fourth course covered the table with any imaginable sorts of deserts and ices.
It was now time for parlour games. They started out with cobweb party which seemed awfully fun until little Brandon got so tangled in his string that he began to weep. But he was soon relieved when he got his present: a brass flute which he totted away at for hours. Lorna got a doll with a tag saying: Annie. Lorna loved Annie almost as much as Brandon loved his flute. Ma and Pa both received sweaters from each other which we all found to be quite amusing.
After they were done the family began to play vegetable animal or mineral. Fathers turn was first and he has some kind of vegetable which we struggled to figure out. In the end it turned out to be a radish which Ma guessed. Oh dear lord my tree is on fire. Got to go.
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A Victorian Journal by Moci
December 26, 1843
Dear Diary,
Me name is Matthew Smith and I'm Twelve years old. I am a pickpocket a capital one might I add! I feel splendid right now. It is Boxing Day and a very nice gentleman just gave me you (this diary) and a box of food. It was Christmas yesterday and, even though I had no money, it cheered me up to see everybody in the Christmas spirit.
When I was a wee one, I was abandoned by me parents and I was taken in by a group of pickpockets. I would like to know who me parent's were, why they left me, and if they are still alive. The only possession I have from me parents is me necklace. Living with a group of pickpockets hasn't been easy. At first, I wasn't allowed to do anything, just watch and learn. Later I was allowed to start working with the boys.
I hate this way of life and wish I could make an honest livin'. One day I will do just that!
With Christmas being yesterday, all the decorations are still up. Everybody is in great holiday cheer and many celebrations are still happening. Because the decorations are in place, many people are getting married.
While walking last night, I looked through a window and saw all the festive decorations, goodies and food that loaded the table in the room. The walls were decorated with evergreen boughs of fir and cedar. Hanging from the ceiling were mistletoe and holly. In the corner was a Christmas tree decorated with many beautiful ornaments. There were popcorn strings, a few glass balls, hand made dolls and lots of candles. At the very top of the tree there was a star.
The table was loaded with so much good food that it seemed the boards were groaning under the weight. I could see a goose, a ham, cranberry sauce, wines, cakes and candies. This gorgeous vision made me mouth water! Oh, how I wish I could celebrate Christmas like that!
I must have stayed by that window at least an hour; just watching those people eat, wishing I was with them! Finally, out came the pudding. This was the part I had been waiting for. The pudding was the highlight of the meal. A Christmas dinner without a pudding would be unthinkable!
The pudding is made on Stir-up Sunday, when everybody in the family takes a turn stirring the pudding. This dessert is put in boiling water to cook for six hours before the meal. When it is served brandy is poured over it and lit, so that it's flaming when presented to the diners.
The flaming plum pudding I watched was truly famous and how I wished I could have a large, tasty serving. Walking on, I imagined that one day I might have a Christmas feast, concluding with a plum pudding as good as the one I had just seen!
Yours Truly, Matthew
December 31, 1843
Dear Diary,
I have just come in from The Strand, where people were watching a New Years' fireworks display. These spectacles are perfect for picking the pockets of the watchers, who are concentrating on seeing the fireworks. I did very well tonight, I might add. One of me best successes was a very rich old man, wearing a top hat and a blue coat. His handsome wallet was peeking out of his back pocket. I carefully removed it and walked away. As usual, he never noticed a thing! When I examined it, I couldn't believe me eyes. Inside was a five pound note.
Something bothered me, and when I looked up, there was a Bobby staring at me. I ran off as fast as I could, but he pursued. I tried to lose him in the crowed, but I couldn't get him off me tail. Still clutching the old man's wallet in me hand, I ran towards our hideout. I ran panting, through all the allies between the ramshackle houses, still not losing the Bobby.
As I rounded a corner I saw a little aperture in the wall to me left. Before me pursuer rounded the corner, I slipped inside. He ran right past me, not even glancing in me direction.
I stayed in that place for a long time, until I felt it was safe to move without detection. I took back streets home, carefully avoiding contacts with people. Luckily, I still had the wallet, or the risk I had taken would have been a waste. When I got home all me friends congratulated me on me great success. A five pound note was a rare find!
Grimshaw, the leader of our pack came into the room and heard me story of the night's events. He praised me efforts and then told me I could have extra gin for dinner to help calm me racing heart.
The London rich people of London celebrate the New Year by watching firework displays. After the fireworks they go home to a party and a huge feast. We celebrate New Year by picking the pockets of people watching the fireworks display. Later, at home, we dance and play games in our old hideout. Late at night we go to bed and sleep in the next morn.
I made a New Year's resolution this year. I'm going to try to find me parents.
Yours truly, Matthew
April 9, 1844
Dear Diary,
Today is Easter and yesterday Grimshaw gave me and me friends a brown to buy candy. On the way to the store I picked the pocket of a man in the summer of his age, wearing a black hat and coat. Inside his wallet were ten browns. We decided not to tell Grimshaw and spend the browns on candy. I gave me friends one brown each, leaving to for me.
As we walked along the streets, most of the people we passed were in high spirits because of the holiday. The candy store was decorated for the occasion and its display was mouthwatering. The offerings included solid chocolates of all kinds, chocolate dipped cherries, nuts, a maple sugar, honey sweets, all varieties of fudge and all sorts of other sweet goodies. It makes me mouth water just talking about it. These included. Each of us selected an assortment of the offering. I chose chocolate dipped nuts and some fudge.
We left the store, munching on our goodies as we made our way along the streets. We stopped and looked in awe through the window of a toy shop. On display were trains, fire wagons, china dolls, sleighs, hobby horses, building blocks and tea sets. None of us had ever received a toy and we wished we could have the chance to play with any one of the toys displayed.
We turned and commenced our walk home in good spirits. On the way, I picked two pockets; one from an old man with a white beard and mustache, wearing a black hat and green jacket. There were only a couple of browns in his wallet, but the wallet was obviously expensive. Me other victim was an old lady who was looking at a chicken in a store. She was wearing a red dress with ribbons, usually a decoration to improve the appearance of a cheap dress, so I didn't expect to get much. However, to me surprise, her purse contained two shillings.
Upon arriving back at our hideout, I gave Grimshaw the wallet and the purse with the money. I don't like stealing and would love to make an honest living; but for now, the only way I can survive is to pick pockets. Naturally I have not said this to Grimshaw. More than ever, I really want to find out even a wee bit about me parents.
Yours truly, Matthew
April 29, 1844
Dear Diary,
After a terrible start, today became the happiest day of me life. I was out picking pockets, doing well, when I saw an old man with a black hat and coat, walking with a cane, with a pound note hanging out of his pocket. I went in for the grab and pulled it out of his pocket. Then I was grabbed from behind and the note was pulled out of me hand. Turning me head, I saw a terribly familiar face. Me jaw almost dropped to the ground, because it was the Bobby that I had escaped from on New Year's Eve. He had a huge grin on his face as he marched me to the court house.
After a long wait, I was finally called in front of the judge. There was a short trial and at the finish the judge ordered that I be sent to a workhouse.
At this point, a well dressed spectator stood up and asked permission to speak with me in private. The judge as seemed surprised as I was but consented. We went into a small room and the man asked me if I had a necklace with me picture on it. Surprised, I undid me necklace and showed it to him. This was the only clue I had about me parents!
To me great amazement this gentleman produced a similar necklace. Holding mine in one hand and his in the other, he put them together with a snap. We both saw a picture of me and a lady. He told me the lady was me mom and he was her brother, me uncle. Me greatest dream had come true!
Telling me to stay in the room, me uncle went out and spoke to the judge. He came back and told me the judge had agreed to cancel the workhouse sentence and release me into me uncle's custody. Luckily, me Uncle Henry is prosperous and well respected, so the judge had no problem in agreeing with me uncle's request.
This night we had a nice celebration at me uncles home. He told me a lot about me mother. Her name was Alice and she had a baby (me) but she wasn't married, so, after having the pictures taken, she ran off, expecting, me to be adopted. Somehow the adoption when wrong and me uncle didn't know where she went, or what happened to me. All he had was the necklace she had sent him. Because me Uncle Henry had no further word from her, he suspected me mom might be dead now. He doesn't know who me father was.
I have finally found a part of me family and I'm very happy. This is a day I will remember forever!
Yours truly, Matthew
December 24, 1844
Dear Diary,
My Uncle Henry has taken me into his home and we are getting on famously. Uncle's city home is in Eaton Place. Lots of fine families live here and it is very nice. He has sent me to a very good school and I am starting to speak like my classmates. Uncle Henry is teaching me good manners and says that my progress is capital.
Five weeks ago we started our Christmas preparations with making the Christmas pudding. Under the supervision of Martha (uncle's maid) I stirred the Christmas pudding. Today, Martha and I trimmed the Christmas tree. I enjoyed making popcorn strings the most, because I got to eat some of the popcorn while we strung them together. The tree is splendid, with all the glass balls, popcorn strings, candles and the star on top (put there by uncle).
At this time, the decorations are marvelous, with greenery on the walls and mistletoe hanging from the ceilings and chandeliers. There is holly everywhere and the smell from fresh pine boughs lingers in the air.
Uncle says that after the twelve days of Christmas we will move to his country home. From what I have learned from Uncle and Martha about the place I can't wait to get there! I will be able to skate on ponds and ride ponies, how marvelous! To get there we will take a train to a station near the estate and then a coach will be waiting to take us the rest of the way.
Tonight we put the Yule log, which is a very big piece of an oak tree, on the fire and we will keep it burning for the twelve days of Christmas. Underneath the Christmas tree there are already many presents, and they look famous!
My dreams are coming true. I'm finally going to have a really merry Christmas. I hope that I can stay with my family forever!
Yours truly, Matthew
December 25, 1844
Dear Diary,
Since Uncle Henry found me, each day has been better than the day before. Today is the best day o my life. Upon awakening, I rushed to the Christmas tree and unwrapped presents with Uncle and Martha. I got a sleigh, a fire wagon, some other great toys and also some fine clothing items.
After the presents were all unwrapped and put away we ate breakfast, finishing just before guests started arriving. This was the beginning of a day long party and I had lots of fun! We played Blind Man's Bluff, Snap Dragon, the Memory Game, Shadow Buff, Literary Salad, Minister's Cat, Poker and Tongs and listened to ghost stories. When the games and stories were over I was exhausted, but I couldn't fall asleep before eating Christmas dinner.
At dinner time we sat down to enjoy a four coarse meal. The first course was a choice of soup, fish, curried rabbit, oyster patties and beef patties. Next we chose from roast turkey, boiled leg of pork and stewed beef. After this we were offered apple tarts, orange jelly and mince pies.
I ate very carefully because I knew that the last offering would be the Christmas pudding. It was presented to the table with style and I had a large serving. As I enjoyed my pudding, I thought about the earlier time when I looked enviously through the window at the people eating there Christmas pudding, which I had only dreamed about. With my new happy home life the pleasure of this Christmas dinner, and especially the pudding, was more than I had ever imagined. My Christmas was truly merry! I am no longer a lowly pickpocket and I am honestly working hard at my goal to be a good man.
Yours truly, Matthew |
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Montroyal Elementary 5310 Sonora Drive
North Vancouver, B.C.
V7R 3V8
Phone: 604.903.3650
Fax: 604.903.3651
Attendance: 604.903.3711
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