39. Christmas Eve pt.1 - Midnight Service and afterwards

The day of Christmas Eve continued into Christmas Eve proper as it had all that day, cold, overcast and still.

The procession that formed in the courtyard of the Hall to proceed down the Yew Walk to the village gate looked like an immaculately presented wagon-train. The women, all dressed for the cold, wore cloaks or coats and shawls, and they all chose hats that covered their heads warmly. Each of them, their hands encased in gloves and fur muffs, formed a perfect shape with their wide dresses and narrow shoulders.

There were mutterings from my sisters about the availability of carriages which were not being used, but I would have none of it. In fact, I had been asked by some of the house staff if they could join our cavalcade, so I made it clear that I welcomed anyone that wished to attend and walk with us. By the time we were set to start our walk to the church - about a quarter past the hour of eleven o'clock, we had quite the procession, and some of the stable lads, by their own initiative, organised and carried lanterns for all of our benefit.

"Tell me again, why we are doing it this way, brother?" Charlotte asked as she walked on my other side from Helena.

"Noblesse oblige," I laughed at her puzzlement.

"Simply this," I clarified. "When was the last time father spent any time with the villagers or his tenants?"

Charlotte still looked puzzled. "I cannot say."

"Precisely!" I said, "We spend so much time showing ourselves off in London, we forget where we come from and where we live."

Charlotte nodded. And we looked back - Mr Adams was escorting Caroline, the twins had several young men attending them, and of course James, now confirmed as Hermione's fiancée, stood upon my youngest sister's right-hand side. Behind them, there was a trail of people and lanterns. "Are you creating a new tradition?" Helena asked from behind my right shoulder.

"Why not?" And I led the column down to the village.

I mentioned earlier that I am not a hugely religious man, but there is something quite magical about a candle-lit church at midnight on the eve of the Saviour's birth.

We filed into and filled the family pews - those seats in Rogeringham church that are exclusively for our family's use, and I do mean filled. With all of the heavy outdoors clothing there was little room to move in there, just enough to sit, to stand and to kneel. At least the full church was warm.

Dr Locksley appeared to enjoy the larger congregation. He led the service with a happy smile upon his face. He gave a short address, where he emphasised that Christ's main teaching had been Love. I think he mentioned it four or five times. We sang carols, and gave the appropriate responses. Henry, who stood just on the other side of Helena, sang with a pleasant tenor, and James Barthomley surprised me with a rich baritone, that one would not have expected when looking at him. With my mother and all of my sisters - most of whom are contraltos, it combined to make, as they say, a joyous noise.

The journey to the church had been purposeful, we were going to church service, after all. The journey back to the house was more festive, as people chattered, and laughed and I heard several voices raised in song, though not all of them were carols, if truth be told.

Suddenly as we got close to the Hall, the chatter was hushed as everyone came to a stop. In the gaps between the yew trees, flakes of snow could be seen in the lantern light. Further out beyond the trees, out from their shelter, the snow could be observed to be falling with purpose.

For a moment we all stood in the silence and watched the snow fall. But it was getting thicker so I urged everyone on to the hall.

When we arrived back there, Barclay, Mr Dives and Mrs Ellis had gathered those staff that had not come with us to the church in the ballroom, and we all - family, staff and even suitors, drank hot mulled wine, (some of the lesser wine from the wine merchant in Buckingham, but because of Mr Roberts' skill it was very drinkable) and we all wished each other a merry Christmas.