195th Century Christmas

The 19th Century Christmas

Historians tell us that Christmas in the United States and even the world was not celebrated much prior to Charles Dickens. They claim that the Puritans of Boston banned it and that it was “quite dead” in England of the 18th century.

That is all false.

While some evidence suggests Christmas was quite different it was not the fragmentary thing they made it out to be in America.

In fact, if anything was out of the usual when it came to Christmas it was the Puritan attitude about it. But the Puritans honestly never had a chance with their ban of Christmas.

Christmas was just too big even before they started.

The history of Christmas in the Americas dates back at least to the 14th century French explorers who first came to Canada. They did not record much of their activities however they did make a record of their Christmas celebrations in a strange land.

Columbus, too, made Christmas an event, even going so far as to name his first settlement in what we now call Cuba, La Navidad.

Of course, Columbus didn’t share his sacred Christmas with the natives and he allowed his own men to run wild. When Columbus returned the following year he found all his men dead and La Navidad burned beyond recognition. Columbus later took a more humble approach to teaching Christmas to later natives he discovered.

When the pilgrims of Jamestown arrived it was none other than John Smith who went on record as the first to drink eggnog at Christmas in the New World in 1607. The Jamestown record of Christmas celebration clearly pre-dates the Puritan ban.

Even in New England, outside of Puritan Boston, Christmas was widely observed. Newsprint clippings from the 1600s and 1700s shows Christmas recipes shared, poetry published and goods sold in association with Christmas.

In fact, old newspapers and family journals clearly show a culture where Christmas in one form or another was already a tradition that was passed for generations long before our ancestors of the 19th century came along.

What transpired culturally with Christmas in America only made it bigger as the 19th century advanced.

In New York City, by the late 1790s already a melting pot of nationalities, the secular Christmas in all of its raucous tradition was wildly celebrated.

The cultured and educated of the city fought to do something about it.

For years, spurred through the writings of Washington Irving, a man named John Pintard took up the challenge of taming the Christmas chaos in New York.

He did it by appealing to a common figure among all the immigrant groups of the city – St. Nicholas.

The true story of St. Nicholas (this historical figure, not the legendary Santa Claus he later became) is another that historians tend to gloss over.

Nicholas was a real person. He was a spiritual man, a bishop and a legendary figure in his time. He was one of those in attendance at the Council of Nicea and was a fervent backer of the Divinity of Christ.

In fact, it was there that Nicholas came to blows with a critic and was thrown into prison, only to be freed, it is said, by Jesus Christ, who returned to him his red priestly robes.

By the close of his life Nicholas was famous in many areas of the world, second only to Christ in terms of his fame. Within a few hundred years of his lifetime more than 2000 churches of the Old World would bear his name.

How did this happen in a world without Internet or media?

Nicholas’ exploits and some say miracles were carried by word of mouth. They were taught, as part of the Christmas season, in many lands.

Nicholas, long after he died, became known in many cultures and, due to his charity and his December 6th feast day, became associated with Christmas.

For Pintard in New York around the turn of the 19th century, Nicholas became the focal point of a more tame Christmas celebration.

He opened a museum of Nicholas history, drawing upon the Nicholas-themed traditions of every culture he could find.

He also used the literary market to great advantage by convincing popular writers such as Washington Irving to create works featuring St. Nicholas and Christmas. One of Washington
Irving’s associates was a wealthy professor of theology and religion named Clement Clark Moore.

Moore and his wife had a large family and, as the story goes, as he was delivering Christmas turkeys to the poor on a snowy Christmas Eve he penned a fun little poem about St. Nicholas based on the jolly demeanor of his white bearded sleigh driver.

Moore later shared his “Visit from St. Nicholas” with his many children, who were delighted.

The poem first became a family tradition of Christmas and later Moore had it published, anonymously in a New York newspaper, in 1823.

As was the tradition in those days, the poem passed from one paper to the next and was shared over time around the country. It became a media tradition of Christmas to share it every year.

Combine the image of Moore’s Santa Claus with Dicken’s resurgent embrace of Christmas with A Christmas Carol and you have the cultural fuel that made Christmas what it has become in America.

By the time our pioneer ancestors crossed the plains in the late 1840s they had, regardless of their land of origin, established traditions of Christmas celebrations.

They would continue those traditions of Christmas where they settled.

Christmas of 1847, the first in Salt Lake City, did not feature much of the usual trappings of Christmas. The 1500 or so of the first Saints in Zion did however gather at the flagpole that had been erected in the settlement and observed the day with song, talks and fellowship.

Christmas of 1848, just months after the Westovers had arrived, likely wasn’t much different in Salt Lake.

But by 1852 much progress had been made in building up the community, including a “social hall” where a Christmas day party was noted in one of the first editions of the Deseret News.

With the Westovers still living at that time within 3 blocks of the social hall there is little doubt that they were there.

It is quite likely that most there witnessed their first Christmas tree, which they then called a Santa Claus tree because it was decorated, as many trees then were, with gifts for the children.

Children really were the focus of the 19th century Christmas.

Thanks to the crafted images of Santa Claus in popular media it was common for children to commandeer the largest sock in the home – usually Fathers’ – to hang for Santa Claus to fill.

Christmas was almost always handmade.

Stockings were filled with handmade rag dolls, knitted items, candy and nuts. If fruit was available, which it often was not, that too might find its way into a stocking as a treat.

Albert Smith noted the passing of Christmas in his journal a couple of times, without much detail.

But with his home filled with children, especially in the 1860s and 1870s, you can be sure a special family meal was held and that inclusion in Manti’s Christmas activities, whatever they were included the Smiths.

It was the Smith home, after all, that served as the community theater for many years after Manti was first settled and Albert, known locally as “Father Smith”, due to his age and long-time Church member status, was certain to speak on any given occasion when folks gathered.

The Westovers of Southern Utah likely participated in the dedication of the St. George Tabernacle, which featured the first ever performance of Far, Far Away on Judea’s Plains.

We will never know if any of our family participated as choir members but we do know that both Charles and Edwin worked on the construction of that building, which took many years to construct and it is likely many of the family were present when it was dedicated.

While details of our pioneer family Christmases are scarce we can be assured their Christmas celebrations always meant a family gathering of some type mixed with church and community celebration.

They changed as the times changed in the 19th century.

It wasn’t until 1870 that Christmas, along with Thanksgiving, became an “official” holiday. It did not come as grand announcement, but rather as a measure designed to give federal workers the day off with pay like most of their private sector counterparts already received.

What did this mean? It meant that Christmas had already been long observed in a special way as a common observance.

Our 19th century ancestors were not strangers to Christmas. As followers of Christ they marked the day, if even in their more unique way.

Westover Family Christmas

The History of Family Christmas Past

Westover Family ChristmasAs the holiday season approaches I cannot help but think with great appreciation how much more significant Christmas and Thanksgiving are to me thanks what I have learned of our family history.

I am especially grateful for those who left behind little memories of what these special days meant to them.

The image above was taken from the war letters of my Grandpa Carl, whose letters came home full of holes, much as the illustration shows. It was reflective of the times and his situation. But it was clearly important to him that he send his love though greetings home – and he sent lots of them.

I’m so grateful they survive to read now.

I have as well in my possession a few Christmas cards sent to me by my grandparents. I have many Christmas letters with poetry from Aunt Evie (treasures!). I cherish the Christmas video of my grandmother, and I really love this conversation between Grandma and Aunt Aldyth…

I am also so much more interested in the real meaning of Thanksgiving. I know now of our Puritan ancestors and how their frequent Thanksgivings were a call to family prayer.

I cannot say for certain what Christmas was like for our 19th century pioneer families. But I’m fairly certain that Grandma Electa Beal Westover was in the choir in St. George when Far, Far Away on Judea’s Plain was first performed in the then-new St. George Tabernacle. (You do know that story, don’t you?)

Wouldn’t it be neat to leave our grandchildren and great, great, great grandchildren something of the holidays from our generation?

That is the great hope in establishing the Westover Family Christmas Card Exchange.

Since announcing this last summer we have garnered a total of seven Westover family members who have signed up. But I’m hoping this little nudge will encourage more of you to sign-up and participate.

You see, I’m going to save every Christmas card from family this year and I’m going to call it historic. These were the brave souls – this Christmas card class of 2018 – that
started an enduring and great tradition.

Who are those seven brave souls? You’ll have to sign up to find out.

The list goes out on National Family History Day – ironically known as Thanksgiving Day – and those who sign up make history (and have a little fun).

Freeing the Spirits of Family

I have been troubled by something for quite a while. This week I finally did something about it.

I released hundreds of names to the temple that I had held in reserve.

Over the course of the past five years I have worked with family and my ward members to do the temple work for hundreds of names. When the youth needed names for baptism, I had a ready supply. When we would go to the temple or when other family members would enquire we have had our family work to do.

I have stated before that my least favorite part of family history is the data mining of names and dates and part of that includes making names temple ready. My mother collected and organized thousands of names through her lines over the course of decades and all I have done with them is make them temple-ready. But doing so had caused my reserved names list to blossom.

Stubbornly I hoarded those names thinking I would get to them through the same old efforts of working with family and my ward groups. Instead of making headway with that list through these efforts the list has only grown.

I rationalized this with good things, of course. I want my family to have family names to take to the temple. I want to be able to support our ward and stake with work that needs to be done as well. I want to do some of this work myself.

I was also bothered with the idea that I might upset someone by doing this. After all, don’t my brothers and sisters and cousins deserve an opportunity to do this work as well?

They do. But, frankly, if they were all that interested in it I would have heard from them by now. Over five years I have tried over and over to engage others in the work of our family history — and what is temple work if it’s not family history? — but my success with those efforts has been very soft. They say that less than 2 percent of Church members are seeking out their family names and taking them to the temple. I would say our family participation rate has been about the same.

Why wait for them when we have other members of the family waiting for me?

All along I have been nagged by the thought that I was holding things up and not helping things out. I was baking only part of the cake.

In the end, isn’t the Temple the point? Aren’t the ordinance works the only point?

Could I be supressing the forward progression of loved ones only because I was sitting on names?

This week I set the captives free.

Finally, I can tell you, I am at peace with this. Never will I allow the names to pile up again. As soon as I get new ones I’m going to release them.

I still want folks to work with when it comes to these efforts. You know where to find me. From now on though I will be putting names in the express line and not holding back. There is so much work to be done and there is no time to hold back for spurious reasons.

The time is now.

I have come to think of my family in much broader terms these last five years. In five years time I’ve become a grandparent. I’ve watched my children mature into adults. I’ve lost my mother. I’ve engaged in this noble work and have come to know those family members of my past that made my life possible. The height, width, depth and breadth of who my family is, including my-law family, leaves me in awe and feeling burdened with responsibility.

I want to be able to face them all — now and into the future.

I will continue the work of outreach with my family and especially my children through this website and other efforts. I feel this is not only a critical work for our family on the other side but the revelatory nature of doing family history, the sacred learning that envelopes us as we work on these things, the new influences we feel and the higher teaching given to us through temple and family history work is, in my mind, one of the greatest parts of the gathering.

We tend to think the souls we’re helping are others. They are not. This work is for us. One way or the other, the work for “them” is going to get done — whether we do it or someone else does. But if we do it we gain that much more. There will be no spirit prison for us if we do this. If we neglect it, we do it at great peril.

I sometimes wonder where the ceiling is in these lessons. I keep thinking that maybe I won’t continually experience something new and exciting as I press forward. But now I don’t think there is a limit. I believe Heavenly Father so wants to bless us that what lies in store cannot be predicted, anticipated or even imagined.

We are told that. We are promised that. But like all things associated with the gospel until we put that faith in action — not just sticking our toe into the water but jumping head first into the pool — we will never reap the blessings that faith promises.

I tell you, those blessings come. They come in not only great abundance but in ways that will stun you and leave you breathless.

I hope those names now freed are experiencing the same kind of blessings now for their faith on the other side.

Mormon Battalion

Getting to Know Albert Smith

Albert Smith

Ancestral Line to Albert Smith

All year long I’ve made reference to a video (or two) coming out about Albert Smith. It is still a work in progress.

The challenge stems from what to include and what to leave out in telling of his story. Thanks to Albert’s journals and to a long life lived so close to events of Church and Utah history there is a great deal of information. There is little of the 19th century Mormon experience that Albert didn’t have.

He came from a religious family. That led to his conversion sometime in the mid-1830s, a time that saw him join the Church in Ohio and one that put him on a slow path to Nauvoo.

His intent was to settle his family where the Saints were gathering in Missouri. What stopped him? Something called the extermination order by Governor Boggs.

Around 1840 Albert and his family arrived in Nauvoo. They joined the Nauvoo first ward.

He joined the Nauvoo Legion.

Albert was called on a mission to New York in 1842, returning nearly a year later in 1843.

He helped to build the Nauvoo Temple. He was friends with Wilford Woodruff. He knew the Prophet Joseph.

Both Albert, and his wife, Esther, received patriarchal blessings from Joseph Smith, Sr.

They were there when the Prophet and his brother, Hyrum, were martyred.

Like others in Nauvoo, they abandoned the home they had built and the land they had developed when they were pushed west by a mob. They received their endowments in the Nauvoo temple in January 1846, before being among some of the first to head west.

Mormon Battalion

The 50th anniversary of the Mormon Battalion held 4 years after Albert died, in 1896.

Upon hearing of a need for 500 men for the Mormon Battalion, Albert and his 17 year old son, Azariah, volunteered.

They separated from their families for a full year, marched all the way to San Diego. Both would come home from the experience with severe injuries. Azariah would get thrown and kicked in the head by a horse and Albert was wounded when run over by a bull – three ribs years later were found to still be broken and separated from his sternum.

As they were headed to Salt Lake in 1847 they were told there was little food there and their company was admonished to go back to California. Azariah did return, for a season, working for a period at Sutter’s Fort where he would become part of the group that discovered gold there, ushering in the gold rush of California.

But Albert, anxious to return to his family, pressed on to Salt Lake, becoming one of the few pioneers of 1847 to arrive from the west.

Like all others, the Smiths set out to work to get settled in Salt Lake City. They had a terrible go of it the first few years. But there were miracles. In fact, the famous miracle of the seagulls actually happened to Albert Smith. He writes:

“When I got in sight of my grain I saw that it was covered with sea gulls. I stopped until they flew to another part of the field. What was my joy and surprise when I went on to the place and found every cricket destroyed. There was not one live one to be found while dead ones laid in heaps where the gulls had thrown them up when they done that they would fill themselves again and so continue to do. The Indians said that they were new birds that they never saw them before. I raised a large crop for 10 acres. I might mention a great many interposition of providence in our behalf without which we might have all perished.”

The next spring, Albert and family were called to be part of a pioneering group to settle Sanpete County – the first settlement south of Salt Lake to be established. I love the way Albert describes the general reaction to their new home:

“When we arrived at the place that is Manti, there was a large number in the camp that were wonderful disappointed with the place. Some went to Sever to see if they could find a better place to settle, but it was decided that this was the place where we was sent and that here we would settle.”

It would be his home for the next 43 years. There he would be known as “Father Smith”, a beloved member of the community who was older, most experienced in the church and faithful to the very core.

Again, all that he experienced in the coming years seemed to be drawn from the legendary experience of Mormonism in the 19th century.

It was there that Albert lost his first wife, Esther in 1856. He remarried almost right away and then, a short time later, he took on a plural wife who didn’t even speak English.

Almost overnight he went from having just 5 in his home to having 14 people under his care, including his disabled son Azariah, who was still suffering from fits of epilepsy from his head injury in California.

The crickets came back and the miracle of the seagulls did not repeat itself in Manti. Each year Albert would faithfully record his farm production and some years he grew nothing because of the pestilence or the lack of water. One year he records taking a trip by wagon to Bountiful to glean from fields of successful crops there, just so he could care for his family over the winter.

The life of plural marriage was not easy on Albert. In fact, after his second wife had pestered him enough for a divorce he gave it to her in 1865.

Albert SmithThroughout all this Albert lived faithfully and served in the ward and the community in Manti. He fought Indians and tried to be an influence to peace, an unpopular position to hold among anxious settlers. There were many skirmishes, and many people on both sides died. Albert preached for peace every time.

He continued his associations with Church leadership. When visiting authorities would visit he attended meetings and made a record of what they said. As first the temple arrived in St. George, Albert took note of the growing understanding of the doctrine of sealing families and vowed to take part.

He paid a professional genealogist to seek out the names of his ancestors and waited four long years for results. As the announcement was made for the Manti Temple Albert continued in those efforts in preparation, lending money and labor to that building as well.

To that end, Albert dedicated the last several years of his life to temple service and seeing that as many as 1500 of his family names were recorded as receiving ordinances under his hand or direction. He remained connected and devoted as well to his living descendants.

But for even all this I haven’t even touched on the lessons of the life of Albert Smith. That I will save for the video.

He was an extraordinary man, a man who lived the Gospel stubbornly, and a man whose understanding of the atonement led to one astonishing act of compassion that leads me to tears each time I think of it.

Right now, honestly, I’m trying to find a way to tell that part of Albert’s story.

It is tender. It is sacred. It is a necessary and, as far as I can tell, so far an untold story of our family history that needs to be shared and appreciated.

That part of Albert’s story is NOT told in his journal. Nevertheless, I would encourage you to head over to WestoverGenealogy.org to read the many pages of Albert’s journal.

I believe there is great value in getting to know him through his unique form of expression and in his own telling of his story.

The Barnhursts

The Life of Ane Marie Jensen Barnhurst

Of the many reasons to be on Family Search few are as important to me than a fairly new feature known as the Family Calendar. It is just a simple timeline tied to your family tree that shows important dates – birthdays, days of passing, marriage, etc. It’s kind of cool because if you set it up right it will send you reminders of these dates via Facebook.

Tomorrow’s date marks the passing of Ane Marie Jensen – a pioneer of great significance in the Riggs line.

Just who is Ane Marie to me? My grandmother, Maurine Westover, is the daughter of Will Riggs. Will Riggs is the son of Will Riggs, Sr and Priscilla Barnhurst. Ane Marie Jensen is Priscilla’s mother – making her my 4th great grandmother.

Riggs Line

If you visit Ane Marie Jensen’s profile on Family Search (KWNC-D9G) you can read a great deal more about her than I am going to share here. Her life is very well documented and it is a great investment of your time to get to know her better.

The spelling of her name is Danish – because that is where she is from. It is pronounced “Annie”.

Ane was born of parents who had done well in their lives in Denmark. Her father served in some capacity with the government there. Regardless of their prosperity, it was required that all adults have a trade and Ane chose to be a seamstress. She learned young and did well, growing well known for her skills in making fine clothes.

While in her early 20s she was discovered by Mormon missionaries and began her conversion experience. Like many, her family did not approve. You can read the details of that on Family Search but suffice it to say here she determined to follow the faith shortly after she was baptized.

She was a handcart pioneer, arriving first after a miraculous sea voyage and then pressing on to Omaha, Nebraska where she would join a company of other Danish saints heading west.

The year was 1857 and her company, the Christensen Company, made their way west either with or near Johnston’s Army, who very famously were headed to Utah to “put down the Mormon rebellion”.

Ane was something of a clothes horse. Perhaps her skills as a seamstress and her family’s position in the community back home in Denmark gave her a great wardrobe. Stories are told of all the clothes and accessories she brought with her. One unproven history states she started across the plains in heels.

She was distressed to have to leave a great many of her belongings behind. Like other handcart pioneers she was limited to about 17 pounds of “stuff”. We don’t know how she covered her feet but somewhere along the journey she ruptured a blood vessel in her foot, which led to infection and made her very ill. Many thought she would die.

She heard people talking outside the tent one night, speculating on her chances of survival. She heard a man pass her tent and she prayed for a blessing. He was prompted to check on her and he did administer to her. He commanded her to get up and get dressed, and she did so – now healed.

She arrived in Salt Lake safely, decorating her handcart and singing her way with the others on the broad streets of Salt Lake as they arrived.

She was placed in a ward with other Danish Saints and the Bishop there, who spoke both English and Danish, asked her why she was not married. She explained that she had been engaged in Denmark before she left but that her fiancé did not want anything to do with the Church and didn’t think they should be married if she became a Mormon. Her heart was broken and she had grown reluctant at the idea of love and marriage.

The Bishop asked her if he found a worthy young man if she would be willing to raise a family to help build the Kingdom. To this Ane faithfully agreed.

Residing in that same ward was a young man whose name was Samuel Barnhurst. We have told a little of his story before. He was previously married, in Philadelphia, and his wife was a conspirator in the plot to get him thrown into an insane asylum – for joining the Mormon Church. He fled, came west to Utah, feeling ambivalent himself about love and marriage.

As with Ane, the Bishop asked Samuel if he would be married and raise a family to help build the Kingdom. He faithfully said yes.

So the Bishop got them together, speaking to Ane in Danish, and to Samuel in English.

They got married in the office of Brigham Young in November, 1857, and about a year later, while living in Ephriam, they brought twin girls into the world to begin their family.

The BarnhurstsThe story is told how it was agreed upon that in the family home the children would learn to speak Danish until the age of 5 – at which point only English would be spoken. This was done to teach them both languages.

This “dual immersion” approach proved useful for all the family, especially for Samuel and Ane, who continued to associated with Danish Saints in the many places they lived. They were able to serve in a variety of capacities because of these skills, as did their children.

In their growing up years both Ane and Samuel had grown up in families with means. This was not their lot in life as Mormon pioneers in central and southern Utah. The rest of their lives were a struggle to survive. They lived for many years in Cedar City, where Ane served in the Relief Society. They later moved to Hatch, where she would be for the rest of her life. While there she was the postmistress — and the Relief Society president.

Ane passed away on July 23, 1906 – leaving a remarkable family legacy.

I’ve only provided a very small glimpse into Ane’s history. I strongly encourage to visit her profile on Family Search and read the many histories of her there.