The New Year of 1920 would be Felix Burns' last. He had been struggling with his health for some time; in 1914, he had been found unfit for active war duties, but had served as recruitment sergeant at Carlisle Castle, as well as bandmaster of the 4th Battalion, the Border Regiment. In 1916, Sergeant Drummer Burns was discharged from the territorial army, probably on health grounds.
He travelled less as a performer in his last few years, and relied more on teaching and composing for an income. In addition, many of his dance pieces had been picked up by folk musicians and were being recorded on 78 rpm shellac records; among them the renowned melodeonists Peter Wyper and Peter Leatham and the concertina player Alexander Prince.
Felix and Kate's older children were making their own way in life; Felix junior and Fred had their own orchestras. Douglas was becoming a dentist. Eldest daughter Catherine was married to James Wilkinson and soon to give birth to twin girls.
Of the five children remaining at home, only the youngest, 14-year-old Leo, was still at school. Winnie was a pianist at Sydney Bacon's Picture House in Carlisle, and her sisters Susan, Leona and Doris all worked as clerks for income tax collector John H. Johnson.
On Thursday 15th January 1920, Felix attended the Catholic Welcome Home Dinner at Lowther Hall. Shortly afterwards, he began to feel unwell, and consulted his doctor.
Nevertheless, he continued working. Though there was less pressure on him financially, continuous work had been the focus of his life since his teens.
Four of his 79 pupils came to the studio at the Market Arcade on Saturday 17th January for their music lessons.
The next morning, Kate Burns was devastated by the discovery that her husband had died in the night. The cause of his death – heart and kidney failure – might confirm the family's later suspicion that he had been suffering from undiagnosed diabetes.
The following Wednesday, Father Knuckey led a service of requiem mass at the church of Our Lady and St. Joseph’s in Carlisle, with Father Bradley, Father O’Hagan and Father Tuohey also taking part.
Felix junior, still awaiting his discharge from the RAF after his wartime service, was unable to be there; eldest daughter Catherine Myra was very shortly to give birth and stayed at home in Ulverston. Her husband, James Wilkinson joined the family mourners, led by Fred and Douglas with their sisters, Susie and Winnie.
Among the floral tributes were wreaths and bouquets from Mr. and Mrs Johnston, the Orchestra of Her Majesty’s Theatre, the Palace Theatre Orchestra, the Emperor Café, the choir of Our Lady and St. Joseph’s church, and the officers, NCOs and men of the Border Regiment.
Ten days later, Catherine gave birth to twin girls and they were named Winifred and Catherine. Not much more than a year later, a son was born and he was named Felix James (known as Jim), after his grandfather and father.
On a visit to Carlisle in September 2021, I visited where Felix lies in a peaceful spot at the cemetery, close to a pathway that runs between the two chapels near the Richardson Street entrance. The grave is sheltered by a sprawling European beech tree, which may well have been planted during Felix's lifetime. He was buried with sons Robert and Sydney, who had sadly died in childhood; his wife Kate was also buried there, in 1939. A baby daughter, Myra, who was born and died at a time when the young couple could not afford to purchase a grave plot, lies in an unmarked grave a few yards away.
A wooden bench is nearby; after the long walk from the town centre, it was an ideal spot to eat my lunch, reflect for a while, and of course, to thank Felix for the music.