A Colonial Stove.
They had preserved the old customs that their fathers had brought with them from the mother country. The great fête of the people was Christmas. Spring had its special delights,—horse-back rides through the budding woods, with the birds singing; fishing parties down on the little rivers, with out-of-doors lunches and love-making; parties of various kinds from house to house. Summer had its pleasures,—handsome dinners, and teas with moonlight strolls and rides to follow; visits to or from relatives, or even to the White Sulphur Springs, called simply “the White.” The Fall had its pleasures. But all times and seasons paled and dimmed before the festive joys of Christmas. It had been handed down for generations; it belonged to the race. It had come over with their forefathers. It had a peculiar significance. It was a title. Religion had given it its benediction. It was the time to “Shout the glad tidings.” It was The Holidays. There were other holidays for the slaves, both of the school-room and the plantation, such as Easter and Whit-Monday but Christmas was distinctively “The Holidays.” Then the boys came home from school or college with their friends; the members of the family who had moved away returned; pretty cousins came for the festivities; the neighborhood grew merry. The negroes were all to have holiday, the house-servants taking turn and turn about, and the plantation, long before the time, made ready for Christmas cheer. It was by all the younger population looked back to half the year, looked forward to the other half. Time was measured by it: it was either so long “since Christmas,” or so long “before Christmas.” The affairs of the plantation were set in order against it. The corn was got in; the hogs were killed; the lard “tried;” sausage-meat made; mince-meat prepared; turkeys fattened, with “the big gobbler” specially devoted to the “Christmas dinner;” the servants’ winter clothes and new shoes stored away ready for distribution; and the plantation began to be ready to prepare for Christmas.
In the first place, there was generally a cold spell which froze up everything and enabled the ice-houses to be filled. (The seasons, like a good many other things, appear to have changed since that old time before the war.) This spell was the harbinger; and great fun it was at the ice-pond, where the big rafts of ice were floated along, with the boys on them. The rusty skates with their curled runners and stiff straps were gotten out, and maybe tried for a day. Then the stir began. The wagons all were put to hauling wood—hickory. Nothing but hickory now; other wood might do for other times. But at Christmas only hickory was used; and the wood-pile was heaped high with the logs; while to the ordinary wood-cutters “for the house” were added three, four, a half-dozen more, whose shining axes rang around the wood-pile all day long. With what a vim they cut, and how telling was that earnest “Ha’nh!” as they drove the ringing axes into the hard wood, sending the big white chips flying in all directions! It was always the envy of the boys, that simultaneous, ostentatious expulsion of the breath, and they used to try vainly to imitate it.
In the midst of it all came the wagon or the ox-cart from “the depot,” with the big white boxes of Christmas things, the black driver feigning hypocritical indifference as he drove through the choppers to the storeroom. Then came the rush of all the cutters to help him unload; the jokes among themselves, as they pretended to strain in lifting, of what “master” or “mistis” was going to give them out of those boxes, uttered just loud enough to reach their master’s or mistress’s ears where they stood looking on, whilst the driver took due advantage of his temporary prestige to give many pompous cautions and directions.
The getting the evergreens and mistletoe was the sign that Christmas had come, was really here. There were the parlor and hall and dining-room to be “dressed,” and, above all, the old church. The last was the work of the neighborhood; all united in it, and it was one of the events of the year. Young men rode thirty and forty miles to “help” [dress that church]. They did not go home again till after Christmas.
The return from the church was the beginning of the festivities.
Then by “Christmas Eve’s eve” the wood was all cut and stacked high in the wood-house and on and under the back porticos, so as to be handy, and secure from the snow which was almost certain to come. It seems that Christmas was almost sure to bring it in old times; at least it is closely associated with it. The excitement increased; the boxes were unpacked, some of them openly, to the general delight; others with a mysterious secrecy which stimulated curiosity to its highest point and added immeasurably to the charm of the occasion. The kitchen filled up with assistants famed for special skill in particular branches of the cook’s art, who bustled about with glistening faces and shining teeth, proud of their elevation and eager to prove their merits and add to the general cheer.
