Christmas of Old
Linn, Osage Co, Missouri
Christmas of Old
Linn, Missouri
(By Ebenezer Hopkins for the Linn Republic, not dated. I believe he is
referring to his childhood days, between 1846 and 1870, when they left for
California. Uncle Ebs was my Great Uncle, born in 1842 in England. Hope
you all enjoy this Christmas message! Janet David, Arizona*)
"Wanted, a saddle horse for a woman weighing about 1200 lbs.," was
how the
notice read. It was said that everyone in town wanted to see the large
woman, and wondered how large the horse would have been to carry her.
Punctuation has much to do with a right understanding of what we read. In
one of my communications I said, "I knew Mr. Moore seventy years ago. Once
Griffith owned a mill on the Gasconade River." Had I punctuated
correctly
it would have read, "I knew Mr. Moore. Seventy years ago Griffith owned a
mill, etc., " which would have been correct. In my communications
of
November 18, referring to Rev. Jas. S. Criswell, I said, "On Christmas day,
1870, we lad him away to rest. It should have read 1880.
As Christmas is near at hand, perhaps the younger portion of your reader
would like to know how the occasion was celebrated in the good old days. We
began preparations three months in advance, or when the first hard frost
came. After the frost came the nutting days, and we hied us away to the
woods to lay in the winter supply of nuts - - - haze, walnuts and
hickory
nuts. The hazelnuts were within easy reach, but if the frost had not done
its work thoroughly, getting the larger nuts was not an easy task. We
climbed the trees and beat the branches. We used fence rails or logs as
heavy as we could manage, with which we assailed the tress. Bushels of nuts
were hulled and put away to dry.
When Christmas came, all was merriment. Tough logs were bored and into the
holes were places heavy charges of powder. A peg with a groove in it was
driven and powder sprinkled from the grove all along the log. A coal of
fire applied to the powder and then came the explosion. If the log was
tough and resisted the force of the powder and the atmosphere was crisp, the
sound went in waves over the hills, and could be head for miles.
The ambition of each was to fire the biggest Christmas gun. "Shooting them
up, " was another favorite method of celebrating. Men and larger boys
assembled at a place agreed upon Christmas Eve, with guns heavily loaded
with powder and a towhead. They went from house to house and, "Shoot them
up." The plan was to approach the house stealthily and stand near the
window - - if the cabin had a window - - and fired. If the cabin
were built
off the ground, as was sometimes the case, they would place the muzzle of
their guns under the house and fire. It would almost lift the house off the
foundation. The people of the house were expected to treat, the treat
consisting of whatever they had. Before the boys was brought out apples,
turnips, and "cornpone". It was no the articles, but the quantity
that
counted. If the response was hearty, that was all that was required.
The
man, or men, of every house visited were expected to join the company, which
was commanded by a captain. This "shooting up" often continued until 2:00
AM by which time the company had assumed large proportions, and the guns
gave and uncertain sound.
Constantine Wolfe (Uncle Fetty) lived between Richland and Friendship, near
the (?????) ground. Two of my chums and I, one Christmas, we paid
our
respects to Uncle Fetty and family. We poured heavy charges of powder and
then reemed with wads of cotton as tight as we could get down the barrel.
Nick and George were the only children then at home. We reached the window
without being discovered and looked in long enough to take in the situation.
In the big fireplace was a roaring fire, before which Uncle Fetty sat
roasting his shins. Nick was playing the fiddle, George was ??? the ?
??
leaning against the mantle. Mrs. Wolfe was baking bread, or more properly,
she was preparing to bake it. The sequel will show that it did not bake.
The old-fashioned iron oven was standing on a bed of coals. Into the oven
she had placed the dough, and the oven lid was on the fire, preparing to
bake the bread. And now the fireworks began! At the command, "Fire!" we
let off our guns. Uncle Fetty yelled, "They've come!" Nick threw
his
fiddle on the bed. George leaped with one foot into the fired and the other
into the oven. But he did not tarry there. When he lifted his foot out of
the oven the dough adhered to it and he lifted the whole of it. As he
danced around the room howling with pain and fright he left behind him a
rope of dough. His mother, poor woman, was wringing her hands in dismay.
The door opened and we were given a hearty greeting. Uncle Fetty brought
out the apples, while George, pointing to the floor, said, "Boys, Mam has no
bread, but, by gosh, you are welcome to the dough!"
Christmas in the log cabin homes was a time of joy and gladness. We may
have been poor all the rest of the year, but we forgot all about it when
Christmas came. We were all on equal footing, so that when the children of
different families met to talk over their Christmas joys and compare presents, there was no envy or jealousy. We ate the nuts we had gathered in
the autumn, parched corn and played games.
When bedtime came, which was sometimes late, Christmas Eve, the girls hung
up their stockings and the boys their socks. Boys and men did not wear hose
in those days; they wore socks, just plain homemade socks. In the morning,
the boys would perhaps find a pair of mittens, or a comfort to war around
his neck, homemade, of course. The aristocratic name now for the more
expensive, imported articles, is scarf. But the boy's joy reached high-water mark, if, perchance, he found in his sock a knife. It may have
been a "dog knife" or a "Billy Barlow" with a pewter blade. Little did he
care of what it was made. If it would whittle, it filled the bill.
Of course, there was for dinner, venison, wild turkey or wild goose. Or
possibly they may butcher a hog. In that case we had spare rib, backbone
and sausage. The Epicurean, however a week before Christmas, went with his
dog to the woods and caught a fat opossum. Having dressed it, he put it on
the roof of the smokehouse to freeze. It was baked with sweet potatoes. A
Christmas dinner of opossum and sweet potatoes, my what a feast! The savory
meat prepared by Esau for his father wasn't in it.
You young people reading this will say this is all very simple and commonplace. It is. But as it was the best we had and as we were all on a
level socially, and did not know that anywhere there was anything better, we
were satisfied.
Today we have the well to do, the poor and the very poor. Out of these
conditions grow dissatisfaction, envy and jealousy. In as few days, the
store windowsill will have a display of beautiful things. The children of
the well to do can possess them, but the children of the poor can not. It
is no fault of the child. Its heart is just as hungry as the heart of the
rich child, but it cannot satisfy that hunger. Seeing the other child in
possession of the its beautiful present, his heart instead of being filled
with love and Christmas cheer, is filled with disappointment and envy.
Oh friend, who may read these lines, I covet for you the most joyous and
happy Christmas. If at this glad Christmas time you find yourself more
highly favored that someone else nearby you, you will find that there is no
better time to apply the Golden Rule than right now. If you want the best
Christmas you have ever had, see to it that someone else has a little more
happiness and joy than they could have had without you. Having done this,
listen to the voice sweeter than earthly music, of Him whose birth we
celebrate saying, "In as much as ye have done it unto on e of the least of
these, ye have done it unto Me."
Yours for a happy Christmas,
Ebenezer Hopkins
Tumwater Washington
*Printed on the MOOSAGE (Mo, Osage Co) rootsweb mailinglist and used with the permission of Janet David (searching for HOPKINS, HOWARD, MADDUX, MCQUEEN)
Thanks alot Janet for sharing your great uncle's story!
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