Byers Choice Carolers Figurines: Night Before Christmas Series
 



Byers Choice Carolers Figurines: Night Before Christmas Series
Some History:
For almost 180 years, families have loved and shared a joyous poem of Christmas with their families. The poem, "A Visit From St. Nicholas," more commonly known as "Twas the Night Before Christmas," has been a classic since its first appearance in the Troy Sentinel in 1823. The poem was published anonymously and, as excitement over the verses grew, everyone wanted to know the name of the author. In 1837 Clement Clarke Moore, a biblical scholar in New York City, allowed his name to be attached as author and, in 1844, he included the piece in his own book, Poems. Moore explained that he had written the poem on the Christmas eve of 1823.
 
One would think that would have put the issue to rest. But there was a problem.
 
The problem was that for at least fifteen years before the poem saw the light of a Troy New York day, by 1808 at the latest, a group of children had been listening to Henry Livingston read them the poem. And all four of them - Charles, the oldest, next-door-neighbor Eliza, second son Sidney, and third son Edwin - all remembered the event and their pleasure in their father's poem.
 
Whether Henry, dead by the time Moore took credit for the poem, would have cared for the fame and attention is doubtful. Whether he would have appreciated someone appropriating his work, though, is a completely different thing.
 
For over a century and a half, those who remembered have passed on the story to the next generation. Descendants collected one another's memories in the hopes that some stray thread would be found that could be pulled on, and maybe, just maybe, unravel the curtain preventing their story from emerging. 
 

 The Poem:
 
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
 
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
 
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
 
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
 
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
 
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
 
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
 
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
 
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
 
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
 
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
 
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
 
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
 
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
 
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
 
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
 
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
 
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
 
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
 
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
 
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
 
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
 
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
 
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
 
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
 
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
 
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
 
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
 
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
 
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
 
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
 
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
 
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
 
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
 
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
 
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
 
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
 
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
 
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
 
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
 
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
 
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
 
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
 
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
 
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
 
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
 
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
 
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
 
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
 
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
 
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
 
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
 
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
 
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
 
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
 
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

 
 
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