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Christmas 1890: A better place indeed
Laurnie Caproni
More about Christmas.
The last comment concerned the world we live in and how it sometimes grows more strange.
Or weird.
Or worse.
This one concerns that same world and how, at least in some ways, the more it changes the more it stays the same. And how — just maybe — the old one was a far better place than the new one.
For example:
Yes, gift-giving is getting out of hand. Even pulpits find themselves in a terrible bind.
That it is better to give than receive was clearly an established tenet in the hearts of parishioners (and congregations), but keeping Christ in Christmas is a tricky business.
Some writers deplore the state of affairs.
Wrote one: “Our Christmas today makes me sometimes fear that the Christmas of our youth is degenerating into a festival of storekeepers.
“Once there was merry-making at home, trimming the church with evergreens, the exchanging of gifts whose value was chiefly in their handiwork. Gradually the increase of wealth has brought about an increase in the cost of gifts, and the storekeepers are quick to set the world aflame every year.”
Sound familiar?
I have heard much the same ever since I was a little boy — and that was a long time ago.
As stated, the more things change the more they stay the same.
Helen Prescott Spofford wrote much of the above in 1890 — or 115 years ago. It appeared in Victorian Christmas — Joy To The World.
In 1890, according to Spofford’s book...
Forty-three percent of Americans still lived on the farm.
For them, Christmas morn began with the annual ritual of spreading extra sheaves of wheat for the barnyard animals and grain on the windowsill for the birds.
All the hired hands came in after early morning chores to ooooh and aaaah at the tree with its homemade decorations, many gleaned from the landscape.
Included were seed pods, pine cones, dried grasses, and flowers woven into wreaths or milkweed silk strung in gossamer filaments along the three branches.
Sometimes a late (8 a.m.) country breakfast preceded an early afternoon Christmas dinner.
That dinner, according to the book, was nothing if not staggering. Turkey, ham, jams, jellies, three kinds of potatoes (mashed, scalloped, candied). Families raided the root cellar and produced turnips, carrots, parsnips and cabbage. All were boiled, baked, mashed or pureed. There were pickles, mounds of homemade bread, sweet rolls, homemade beer and beet wine — and a “new” delicacy called oysters. They were used in dressing, puddings and stews.
By midafternoon, children were out on the pond, trying their new skates, or skimming down the hill on new sleds. They did so until starlight twinkled them back to the warm glow of the household.
A Christmas Day might also include a visit to relatives or the delivery of dinner to the poor. There also was a candlelit church service or the reading aloud from the Bible at home.
And, finally, at the end of a long day, hugs and kisses under the mistletoe, more prayers, and a peek out the widow to say goodnight to the star of Bethlehem.
Notice, if you will, the mention of “candlelit church services,” “reading from the Bible”, and “more prayers.” It is obvious that God, the church, and religion were very much a part of home life 115 years ago.
And today?
Try not to think about some of the so-called Mega Churches which plan to keep the doors shut on Christ’s birthday.
Think instead of Helen Prescott Spofford’s Victorian Christmas — Joy To The World.
It was a better place indeed.
More about Christmas.
The last comment concerned the world we live in and how it sometimes grows more strange.
Or weird.
Or worse.
This one concerns that same world and how, at least in some ways, the more it changes the more it stays the same. And how — just maybe — the old one was a far better place than the new one.
For example:
Yes, gift-giving is getting out of hand. Even pulpits find themselves in a terrible bind.
That it is better to give than receive was clearly an established tenet in the hearts of parishioners (and congregations), but keeping Christ in Christmas is a tricky business.
Some writers deplore the state of affairs.
Wrote one: “Our Christmas today makes me sometimes fear that the Christmas of our youth is degenerating into a festival of storekeepers.
“Once there was merry-making at home, trimming the church with evergreens, the exchanging of gifts whose value was chiefly in their handiwork. Gradually the increase of wealth has brought about an increase in the cost of gifts, and the storekeepers are quick to set the world aflame every year.”
Sound familiar?
I have heard much the same ever since I was a little boy — and that was a long time ago.
As stated, the more things change the more they stay the same.
Helen Prescott Spofford wrote much of the above in 1890 — or 115 years ago. It appeared in Victorian Christmas — Joy To The World.
In 1890, according to Spofford’s book...
Forty-three percent of Americans still lived on the farm.
For them, Christmas morn began with the annual ritual of spreading extra sheaves of wheat for the barnyard animals and grain on the windowsill for the birds.
All the hired hands came in after early morning chores to ooooh and aaaah at the tree with its homemade decorations, many gleaned from the landscape.
Included were seed pods, pine cones, dried grasses, and flowers woven into wreaths or milkweed silk strung in gossamer filaments along the three branches.
Sometimes a late (8 a.m.) country breakfast preceded an early afternoon Christmas dinner.
That dinner, according to the book, was nothing if not staggering. Turkey, ham, jams, jellies, three kinds of potatoes (mashed, scalloped, candied). Families raided the root cellar and produced turnips, carrots, parsnips and cabbage. All were boiled, baked, mashed or pureed. There were pickles, mounds of homemade bread, sweet rolls, homemade beer and beet wine — and a “new” delicacy called oysters. They were used in dressing, puddings and stews.
By midafternoon, children were out on the pond, trying their new skates, or skimming down the hill on new sleds. They did so until starlight twinkled them back to the warm glow of the household.
A Christmas Day might also include a visit to relatives or the delivery of dinner to the poor. There also was a candlelit church service or the reading aloud from the Bible at home.
And, finally, at the end of a long day, hugs and kisses under the mistletoe, more prayers, and a peek out the widow to say goodnight to the star of Bethlehem.
Notice, if you will, the mention of “candlelit church services,” “reading from the Bible”, and “more prayers.” It is obvious that God, the church, and religion were very much a part of home life 115 years ago.
And today?
Try not to think about some of the so-called Mega Churches which plan to keep the doors shut on Christ’s birthday.
Think instead of Helen Prescott Spofford’s Victorian Christmas — Joy To The World.
It was a better place indeed.
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