It seems crazy that Santa Claus was once not imagined as a rotund Jolly Old Elf with dimples, rosy cheeks and the ability to lay a finger beside of his nose, nod his head and ably rise up the Christmas Eve chimney.
And those reindeer. Nobody knew he had eight of them who could fly and pull a toy-laden sleigh, let alone they have names: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder and Blitzen.
But all of that changed 200 years ago when, on Dec. 23, 1823, “Account of A Visit from Saint Nicholas” was first published anonymously in the Troy (New York) Sentinel. We know it today as “‘Twas The Night Before Christmas.”
We know it from children’s books and numerous Christmas films, such as when Scott Calvin — about to accept “The Santa Clause” and become the Big Guy himself — reads it to his son to get him to fall asleep on Christmas Eve.
Clark Griswold is oh so proud in “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” when his father says it’s time for Clark to take over the traditional Christmas Eve reading.
It’s been set to music and recorded by many artists. We know it from Christmas television specials built around the poem and from Hallmark movies, including one that features the true-to-life question about who really wrote the poem.
That’s been debated and questioned over the years, though Clement Clarke Moore claimed authorship in 1837 and is largely still credited.
According to the website Poets.org, the poem offered a different take on Santa Claus, a figure who was, until that time, traditionally depicted as a “thinner, less jolly, horse-riding disciplinarian, a combination of mythologies about the British Father Christmas, the Dutch Sinterklaas, and the fourth-century bishop Saint Nicholas of Myra.”
But the poem in the newspaper gave Santa the eight named reindeer, described an elf who could magically sneak in and out of homes via chimneys and created the venerated, cheerful, chubby icon that is ever-present in holiday cards, movies, television shows and retail outlets everywhere.
You may already read “‘Twas The Night Before Christmas” on Dec. 24, but in case you don’t and want to start a new tradition on its bicentennial, here it is.
A Visit from St. Nicholas
‘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 our brains 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.”
