Memories of the Whit Walks
Whitsuntide is a Christian Religious Festival, but to
us kids’ in Collyhurst, it was the time of year we were all rigged out
with new clothes from top to bottom, and the time of year we walked in ‘The
Processions’. I had walked on Whit Monday every year from being six years
old, but one year was special for me.
It was 1958, and I was 11 years old. In preparation for Whit Monday my sister and I had a bath, washed our hair, had our supper and were sent to bed early. We had to be up at 6am the following morning. I remember lying in bed feeling nervous and excited.
My sister and I had both been confirmed that year, and this meant we would be walking with the banner representing our church. The Confirmation banner always led the procession, behind the Brass Band of course. The banner was huge, and had ten white ribbons hanging from it, five at the front and five at the back. Ten girls who’d been confirmed that year were chosen to walk with the banner, both my sister and I had been chosen.
Mam had made our dresses. Though it was dark I could see the outline of them hung on the wardrobe door. The bodices were made of white satin and the skirts were ballerina length, made up of layers and layers of white net. They were lovely. Mam had made our head-dresses too. They were made in the same materials as our dresses, and were a sort of banana shape, rather like a headband but much more fancy. Our shoes were flat, white ballerina type and we had new white socks, and to complete the outfit a posy of flowers which had been made by my aunty. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what we would look like. I finally drifted off to sleep.
Morning came and the house was buzzing with excitement. I remember mam making toast which I couldn’t eat because of the butterflies in my stomach. My sister and I were finally ready. Together with mam, dad, our younger brothers and sister, who were all dressed up in their best clothes, made our way to St. James’ Church. Collyhurst. It was a beautiful church. It was the church in which my mam and dad were married. It was the church where I was baptised, and it was the church in which I was confirmed. Just across the road stood St. James’ School. I had attended this school since I was four years old and sadly this was to be my last year there, because after the six weeks summer holidays I’d be attending a new school, Smedley Road Secondary School.
As we approached the church, I could see all the children assembled, dressed in their lovely outfits. The teachers from the school were trying to organise them. My sister and I were spotted by Mrs. Gaskell, one of the teachers from the school, and were ushered by her to the front of the procession. I remember my mam asking, if my sister and I could walk at the back of the Confirmation Banner going down to Albert Square. I wondered why, I realised later, if you walked at the back of the banner going down to Albert Square, you walked at the front of the banner coming back!
Eventually we were organised and ready. My sister and I stood together holding the long white ribbons that draped from the back of this awesome banner. We spoke not one word to each other. The band struck up with ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’. To this day I will never forget how overwhelmed I felt, I almost burst into tears. We followed the band down Rochdale Road making our way to Albert Square. The road was lined with people threefold. All my aunties, uncles, friends and neighbours were there, shouting and clapping as we walked by. “Hold your Lily up” they shouted. We reached Albert Square and my dad was there waiting to take us for a drink. The square was packed with children and adults from all the different churches in Manchester. I remember feeling intimidated and frightened and hoping I wouldn’t get lost. I held onto my dad’s hand tight. After our drink we found our way back to our assembly point and prepared for the walk back to church.
On the return journey, my sister and I walked in front of the banner, by this time the crowds were even greater. I remember seeing a mass of red, white and blue flags and shakers. Everyone was wearing red roses and there was red, white and blue bunting all along the roads and streets where we walked.
The leader of the brass band periodically threw his stick up in the air and caught it, and everybody went wild, cheering and clapping him on. As the band marched on they played songs like ‘There’ll Always Be An England’, ‘Sons of the Sea’, ‘Pack Up Your Troubles In Your Old Kit Bag’ and best of all ‘Land of Hope and Glory’, all the crowd sang along. Now and again two or three women would come out of the crowd into the middle of the road in front of the Brass Band and dance and sing kicking their legs in the air and waving their flags. It was a joy to see everyone so happy.
About twelve thirty in the afternoon we arrived back at the church. My mam, dad, brothers and sister were all there to meet us, we made our way back home chattering excitedly about the events of the morning. My nana would have a big potato pie ready for us at home. I was hungry now and looking forward to my potato pie. As we approached our house nana was on the veranda looking out for us.
