Michele Stanush wrote this article for the Austin American Statesman on December 25, 1991. It could be found in the lifestyle section.
The headline
‘Twas a rip roarin’ Christmas
Yuletide a century ago wasn’t all quiet family dinners, homemade gifts and neighborhood church services. Many welcomed the holiday with a bustle and a bang.
Christmas Day has dawned in the state’s capital city, a spirited town of 28,000 citizens. It’s 1891 in Austin, a village of statesman and cowman, of students and gamblers, of proper women and painted ladies. Today it’s a town celebrating a religious holiday, which is now a national celebration.
On the eve of this holy day, some townsfolk went to church. Others slugged nog and are walking with heavy heads. Some raced around town buying fat Christmas turkeys and wooden children’s toys. Many thronged onto Congress Avenue and in the tradition of the day, shot off firecrackers.
Shooting of crackers, rockets and Roman candles was in order last night, and for a time pandemonium reigned on the avenue, reports today’s. Newspaper, adding, it reigned too long, and the police were severely criticized.
Austin is still a young place, full of spit and spirit. Indeed, a few folks among the Christmas crowds still can remember the birth of this Riverside hamlet. It was only 52 years ago that Austin was laid out in a frenzy as the capital of the Republic of Texas. Not all the Christmases of yesteryear have been bountiful. But many have been lively.
In 1841,, for example, when Texas was poor but swaggering, a Congress of a ‘Rounders of the Republic’ met in Austin on Christmas Day, arriving from places like Screamersville, Hyena Hollow, and toenail.
It was expected to be a jovial event and the Daily Bulletin reported the following rules., “If a member is too drunk to rise from his seat to speak, the chair shall appoint a committee of 3 to hold him up. No Member shall absent himself from the House, unless he have leave to be sick.
As the century marched forward, Christmas celebrations adapted as new immigrants imported customs from their homelands and the country experienced its own changes. On Christmas Eve 1866,, in the shadow of the bloody Civil War, a concert band of Yankee soldiers played near the capital. An icy silence fell over listening townfolk as the band struck up Yankee Doodle. But, as the audience waited tensely for the next song, expecting a new insult, the band swung into a lively rendition of Dixie. And after a moment of stunned silence, someone let out a rebel yell and the crowd erupted, shouting and tossing hats into the air.
Now, 25 years after that, Austin is a different town in a different era. Reconstruction is over, The Industrial age is in full swing, and Austin is scrambling to lure new manufacturing.
There is good reason. The town’s economy has been sluggish for years, crippled through much of the 1880s by crop failures, drought and depression. Now, Austin is building a huge 60-foot-high dam across the Colorado River, hoping it will entice industry, immune to the whims of Mother Nature.
This Christmas Eve, crowds of locals paid 10 cents to pile into dummy railcars and rattle to the dam site, where workmen building the dam were positioning huge blocks of pink granite. Quite a large number of people went out to the work site last afternoon, reports this morning. Statesman, Continuing, a ride out to the dam today will be pleasant and interesting. Take your wives and children out.
It’s likely that many folks will take this advice, probably after opening presents and eating a huge Christmas dinner. Indeed, it’s been a busy season for Austin merchants and grocers. The markets have been bustling, and although holiday decorations aren’t as abundant as usual this year, the stores are well stocked.
The union market for one, is boasting 152 pound spring lamb, probably the fattest mutton in the state.
And one market in town has Bear meat, Frank Murray’s on East 6th Street. Throughout the holiday season, Austin markets have been hawking their wares.
EB Robinson’s has been advertising fruitcake. Crescent figs and ginger preserves. RE Capterton and Company has proudly announced its venison hams, smoked tongues and plump Christmas turkeys. And for those who overindulge, it’s reported that Dr Biggers huckleberry cordial is a sure cure for all bowel troubles. At the same time, local merchants have been timid about suggesting gifts for loved ones. JA Jackson’s has been advertising diamond rings and lace pins. Irvin Daniel has a handsome line of Christmas cigars. And JC Petmecke’s has a wide range of gift items, pistols, lawn, tennis goods, French harps, and razors.
Dear girls, writes Mr Petmecke in one advertisement, if you are in doubt as to a Christmas gift for your sweetheart, call and inspect my line of razors and strops. Young beards, like herbs, require careful treatment and you may be able to aid him in cultivating a regular Daisy. For younger folks, those bare of facial hair, nothing will make a boy happier than will a gun or bicycle, he wrote. Call at Petmecke’s and get prices.
Many a Santa Claus was seen scuttling along home loaded down with bundles to make bright eyed little children happy this morning, says this morning’s paper.
That wasn’t all, however, that news reporters observed on Christmas Eve. Some town folk weren’t scuttling home at all, but flooding salons and pool rooms or firing off fireworks. And, Unfortunately, not all the fireworks went up. Roman candles were fired indiscriminately into the crowds of people and large cannon crackers were thrown under moving horses, the Statesman reported. Several persons were struck by the balls from the Candles, and four or five men were painfully injured. Up to one o’clock, there had been a half dozen scrapes. The police made numerous arrests.
Not everyone is enjoying the holiday. Many townfolk, according to the newspaper, have large “la grippe”. And, in an isolated incident, 10 men playing a cheerful game of Christmas craps have found themselves in jail today and no longer cheerful.
But that is the exception. Most Austinites are celebrating the day in fine form, rattling around the town’s dirt streets in buggies, hacks and wagons, and many are even remembering the origins of the holiday. Over at St David’s church, for one, a special Christmas choir is singing It Came upon a Midnight Clear. And this morning’s newspaper reminds townsfolk to be generous today and remember your poor neighbor over the way.
Also in today’s newspaper, under the heading Christmas 1891, an anonymous newspaper columnist ponders the season:
Last night, in millions of homes, little children stood tiptoe to hang the stocking against the wall, and could scarcely sleep for thinking of what would happen, the author writes. But all night long, the whole world round, have deeds of kindness been done. May they go on, with the growth of the day, and continue going on until there is joy in every childish heart and a good dinner on every table in the land. And so, in the language of Tiny Tim, “God bless us everyone”.
