European Stars and Stripes (Newspaper) - December 24, 1991, Darmstadt, Hesse                                Vas the a night a before Christmas famous poem was gift to writers children by John Barbour the associated press it was Christmas eve 1822, and Snow Lay heavily Over old new York the downtown streets and the Farmland that occupied most of the Island of Manhattan. Sleigh Bells jingled through town but would not inspire Jingle Bells for another 35 years. Clement Clarke Moore a 43-year-old teacher at an episcopal Seminary had been at work for weeks with his Quill crafting a secret present for his six children. Now it was done. Earlier that Day Moore Rode Oul in his Carriage on Christmas errands with his servant Patrick and returned Home to his four Story Brick farmhouse with the largest Turkey he could find in the Washington Market s crowded pens at the tip of the Island. After Christmas eve dinner the family retired to the parlor in front of the Hearth with its warming fire. And now Moore unveiled his Christmas gift. His children a Margaret Charity Benjamin Mary and Clement  sat at his feet. Infant Emily was in her Mother s arms. He began to read twas the night before Christmas when All through the House not a creature was stirring not even a mouse ,. When he finished Happy Christmas to All and to All a goodnight there was silence and then exultation. The children prevailed on him to read it again and joined in with lines they remembered. Bedtime interrupted their pleas for a third Reading. But a visit from St. Nicholas was born and with it a vision of Santa Claus the sainted gift giver to children that would decorate the american Christmas its Street Corners and department stores its Trees and cards for decades to come. In the 170 years since children All Over the world have held that image and its song in their hearts. His eyes a How they twinkled his dimples How mern/1 his checks 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. He had a Broad face and a Little round belly thai Shook when he laughed like a bowl full of Jelly he was Chubby and plump a night play old Elf. And i laughed when i saw him in spite of myself. But in the years to follow the history of the poem took a curious turn. Though it was cherished immediately Moore would not acknowledge authorship publicly for another 15 years say Gerard and Patricia Del re in their Book a twas the night before Christmas. Although it was passed from hand to hand and cos mint Clark Moore wrote the poem for his six children. Copied it was two Days before the next Christmas in 1823 that the Troy . Sentinel published it for the first time. It was unsigned and preceded with this from the newspapers editor a we do not know to whom we Are indebted for the following description of that unwearied Patron of children a that Homey and delightful personage of parental kindness a Santa Claus. As he goes about visiting the firesides of this Happy land Laden with Christmas bounties but from whomsoever it May have come we give thanks for  perhaps Moore thought it too frivolous an Enterprise to his standing As a scholar and teacher of Oriental languages and hebrew author of a compendious lexicon of the hebrew language and pious Patron of the episcopal Church. Or perhaps he thought it a private communion with his children his family. But he finally consented to sign his name to it on a reprinting in the new York Book of poetry in 1837. The poem is based in part on an old dutch myth which Moore s Friend writer Washington Irving related in his Knickerbocker s history of new York Irving a aim was satire Moore a was a simple innocent tale of goodness and giving. Moore had other things on his mind that Christmas season As Welt. He stopped regularly to View the construction of the general theological Seminary which he helped build. He gave almost the entire Chelsea Section of the City to the episcopal diocese and helped build nearby St. Peters Church which still stands. The City ordained Grid of streets had not yet reached Chelsea where the few Graceful farmhouses were linked by dirt lanes but to the South the shanties of Greenwich Village were about to give Way to the rising City. Moore railed against the dissection of the Countryside with the streets and avenues Laid out in unforgiving rectangles. It was a fight he would lose but it was part of the romantic spirit of this scholar with a Long face and prominent nose the son of another scholar who became president of Columbia University to want the Homes and churches of Chelsea connected by curving streets and winding lanes. For Moore was a romantic say the Del re s and the Rev. Wray Mackay today s Rector of St. Peter s. The Point to the letters of his courtship to his wife Eliza and his dedication to the Church which at one time provided the Only education for the poor children of the Shantytown to the South. But Only on sunday. A the Church is a highly romantic building Quot says parishioner and architectural scholar Chris Jenks a almost a stage  not quite gothic but trying to capture the feeling of the Middle Ages and the poem itself. A it has the qualities of imagination and fantasy and Energy and that s Why it endures Quot Mackay says. A you read it and you just get caught up in  Mackay sees something More than Good Fortune in the fact that when stones from the Tower began to fall into the Street a few years ago the archdiocese provided $500,000 to repair it. It Only Cost $65,000 to build the Church itself in the 1830s, and Moore provided much of the Money. He also bought the Pine Pew on the right hand front of the Nave for $200 in perpetuity. The deed exists still. As does the Seminary which schooled fewer than two dozen seminarians a year when it began and More than 150 now. The Moores Are not buried at St. Peters. For Public health reasons Moore attached a covenant to the deed that there would be no burial grounds in Chelsea. He and his family were interred at St. Luke s in Greenwich Village but were moved up to the Church of the intercession in the Bronx when St. Luke s future was in doubt about the turn of the Century. That neighbourhood now is mostly poor hispanic and Black but the Church and its Parish House Are. Elegant reflecting its past. It is built on the old James Audubon farm and he is buried on the grounds. As is Alfred Dickens who died in new York on a trip to America with his father author Charles Dickens i is grave was Long honoured yearly at this time of year by new York s Dickens society in period dress. Now every Christmas season after a Reading of the poem at the Church of the intercession the parishioners and their children troop Down the Long Steep Hill toward the Hudson River to the West graveyard. Led by a St. Nicholas in Gold Miter and White gown they will Stream past the prestigious mausoleums where lie important new York families like the actors and Cushman and they will pay homage to the poet s grave and that of the Moore family who heard the poem first. Or v # was inc night before Christmas Jewhen 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 Saint 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 my bed to Sec what was the Mailer. Away to the window 1 flew like a Flash Tore open the shutters anti 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. Bui 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. M Ore rapid than eagles his coursers they came. And he whistled and shouted and called them by name a now Dasher now. Dancer now prancer and Vixen on Comet on cupid on. Dobuler and Bill in to tote lop of the porch to the lop of the Wall now dash away dash away Adasii away All Quot As dry leaves dial before the wild Hurricane Fly. When Ulicy Nice an obstacle mount to die sky so up to die House top the coursers they hew Widi the Sleigh full of toys and St. Nicholas Loo. And then in a twinkling i heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each Little Hoo As 1 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 dollies were All tarnished with ashes and soot a bundle of toys lie had Flung on his Back. And he looked like a peddle just opening his pack. His eyes How they twinkled his dimples How merry his checks were like roses his nose like a Cherry his droll Little Mouth w As drawn up like a Bow and the Beard of his Chin was As w Hite its the Snow the slump of a pipe he held tight in his Leech. 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 bowl full of Jelly. He was Chubby and plump a Light 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 lie spoke not a word but went straight to his Woik and fill d All the stockings and 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 the team he gave a whistle. And away they All flew like the Down of a Thistle. But i heard him exclaim Ere he drove Oul of sight �?o9lappy Christmas to All and to Alt a Good night. A this is the first Page of an Eaf undated manual rpt of a visit from St  Page 14 the stars and stripes tuesday december 24, 1991 the stars and stripes Page 15