Clarksville, TN – In the winter of 1822, the bustling streets of New York City were alive with the sights and sounds of the holiday season. For Clement Clarke Moore, a professor of literature and theology, Christmas was a time of joy and family. He lived a quiet life in Manhattan, balancing his scholarly pursuits with the demands of raising a growing family.
That year, Moore found himself particularly inspired by the festive spirit that surrounded him. The city, though not yet the Christmas capital it would one day become, was beginning to embrace the holiday in new ways. Carolers roamed the streets, children eagerly anticipated gifts, and the legend of St. Nicholas, the jolly bringer of Christmas cheer, was gaining popularity.
Moore had always been captivated by the magic of Christmas, but it was a snowy evening in December that sparked his creativity. Returning from a shopping trip in the village with a freshly purchased turkey for the family feast, Moore was struck by a vision of St. Nicholas—not as the solemn bishop of old tales, but as a cheerful, plump, and jolly figure.
That night, Moore sat by the fire in his study, pen in hand, and let his imagination take flight. He decided to write a poem as a Christmas gift for his children, something that would capture the whimsy and wonder of the season. Drawing inspiration from Dutch and German traditions, Moore reimagined St. Nicholas as a roly-poly elf who flew through the night on a magical sleigh pulled by reindeer.
The words came easily, as if guided by the magic of the season:
“‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…”
By the time the fire had burned low, Moore had completed his poem, titling it A Visit from St. Nicholas. On Christmas morning, he read it aloud to his children, their eyes lighting up with delight as they imagined St. Nicholas’ sleigh soaring across the starry sky.
Moore had not intended for his poem to leave the confines of his home, but a family friend, enchanted by the story, secretly submitted it to the Troy Sentinel, a small newspaper in upstate New York. The poem was published anonymously on December 23, 1823, and readers were instantly captivated.
The whimsical verses struck a chord with the public, and St. Nicholas, with his twinkling eyes and round belly, became the embodiment of Christmas joy. Over time, Moore’s poem, now popularly known as ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, helped shape the modern image of Santa Claus and cemented his place as a central figure of the holiday season.
Today, Moore’s poem is one of the most beloved Christmas traditions, read aloud in homes around the world each Christmas Eve. And though Moore initially kept his authorship a secret, he later embraced the legacy of his work, knowing it had brought immeasurable joy to countless families.
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas
By Clement Clarke Moore
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when 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 St. 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 the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and 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,
But 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.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I 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 clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks 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;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
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 bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right 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;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then 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 his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”
