Wednesday morning: December 25, 1861.
Christmas eve.
--Pop-crackers and rockets, chasers, and Roman candles, completely upset the equilibrium of young Richmond last night. Let war or peace control the world as they may, urchins will have their fun on the eve of Christmas day.
Christmas.
--In the midst of the dark storm of war, the Star of Bethlehem rises with its serene and unquenchable lustre, and gilds the edges of the clouds with rays of heavenly consolation. If it is no longer to us the herald of peace of joy, happy are we that the responsibility of strife and bloodshed rests alone upon our enemies. Asking only to be "let alone," standing upon our own thresholds in defence of our hearths and homes, and seeking to make the hearths and homes of no other people desolate and miserable, we may, without remorse, and with humble and trusting faith, look upward for approval to the "Peaceful Prince of Earth and Heaven," whose birth we this day celebrate, and whose coming we greet with garlands of joy and anthems of thanksgiving.
Christmas has always been an honored festival among the descendants of the Cavaliers. In the North, Thanksgiving Day, a Paritan festival, on which the Sons of the Pilgrims show their gratitude by stuffing themselves to death with pumpkin pies, and New Year's Day, which has been imported from Holland, have thrown good old Christmas into the shade. With the exception of Catholics and Episcopalians, whose ritual provides for the celebration of both Thanksgiving and Christmas, giving the latter the prominence which is its due, the North stands alone among Christian nations, whether Roman Catholic or Protestant, in its neglect of the greatest festival of the Christian year. In our own sunny land, the old-fashioned English Christmas still retains its ancient supremacy, and even the intervention of such infernal passions as those which dominate in the despotism at Washington, can only partially eclipse this inextinguishable source of social and household light and gladness. If the Christmas Tree does not bear as profusely as at former seasons, and Kriss Kringle does not fill the stockings to repletion, the juveniles may well excuse the patron Saint on account of the greater favor he has conferred in keeping the Yankee wolves from their doors, and enabling them to eat their Christmas dinner in peace and security.
If friends cannot bestow as many Christmas gifts upon each other as in former times, it is some consolation to reflect that, in this respect at least, the entire period of the war has been a continual Christmas, the whole population, with the exception of avaricious speculators, having manifested a degree of self-sacrificing generosity in behalf of the brave men engaged in fighting our battles which might well adorn and hallow the most sacred festival.
And how can we better celebrate this Christmas Day than by the continuance and increase of those acts of beneficence to all the gallant defenders of our country who may still need our aid, and to the sufferers by fire and other disasters, and to those widows and orphans of our noble martyrs to liberty who may be absolutely destitute of the necessities of life, whilst surrounded by plenty and profusion? No Christmas gift can be more acceptable to God and man than gifts to such as these, and no appliances for making Christmas happy so effectual as those which impart to our own minds the assurance of having increased the happiness of others.
........
[written for the Richmond Dispatch.]
Christmas day, A. D. 1861.
by M. J. H.
The year's high festival is come,
The time of careless mirth,
Of glad re-unions in each home,
Glad gatherings round each hearth;
The harvest time of song and glad,
And hospitable covery.
In other lands, more blessed climes,
Glad hearts a welcome leaf,
And pealing bels, with merry chimes
This festal season greet;
Green boughs are gathered for the walls,
And banquets spread in festive halls.
But unto us it brings but tears,
And painful memories--
Of the bright scenes of happier years,
Sadly compared with these;
Regrets for blissful moments fled,
Anticipations fraught with dread.
No festive garlands now we twine
For walls all echoless;
No viands care and costly wine
Our vacant boards oppress;
The empty chairs at every hearth,
With sad suggestions batch mirth.
Each household mourns some loved one gone,
The husband, son or sire,
Now met to talk of friends and home
Around the red camp fire
God knows if o'er their presence cheer
The hearts of those they hold most dear.
For some, who the last Christmas time
Were with us blithe and gay;
Whom step and voice made pleasant chime--
Whose smile Illumed the day,
Now pale and silent with the dead,
Sleep in the warrior's gory bed.
And many a home whose happy light,
And hearth whose cheerful glow,
Then shone o'er scenes of pure delight
As mortals ever know,
Now he's a ruined blackened heap,
Where screaming owls their night watch keep.
Or sacked by thievish, vandal bands,
Empty and desolate,
A silent monument it stands
Of cruel wrong and hate;
Or else its halls, the owners fled,
Now echo to the foeman's tread.
O, "God of Hosts," whose arm of might
Did Israel's foes o'er throw,
Shall not thy justice aid the right
Against this ruthless foe?
Will Thou not stay the robber hords,
Who waste our land with fire and sword?
O, Christ, our Saviour, at whose birth,
The angels sang of peace,
To mark whose coming upon earth
Carnage and strife did cause,--
Thou "Prince of Peace," restore its reign,
And make us taste its joys again.
Grant when another year shall bring
The annivary day
Of Thine advent our hearts may sing
A holy, joyous, lay
Of thankfulness and praise to thee
Whose arm has brought us victory.
Hanover County, Virginia,December, 1861.
.....
Christmas presents.
--Despite the blockade, our readers will be enabled to procure their usual supplies of Confections, Cakes, and Jellies, for the Christmas holidays, at Antony's fashionable and popular saloon, on Main street. All who need supplies, will not fall to give him a call before purchasing.
......
Cleveland, Tennessee
Wednesday 25. Pretty Day, Christmas Day. Mother, Rhoda, Lizzie and went down to Judge Gaut's to see Mary Gaut present a flag to Capt. Dunn's Company. They left for Knoxville today. Mother and R. went to the depot. Their name is "Rough and Ready Rifles;" motto: "We come to share the victory." [Myra Inman, A Diary of the Civil War in East Tennessee, William R. Snell, ed., Mercer U. Press, 2000 p. 128]