Scituate Christmas 1899
By John Galluzzo
At long last, the 16-week fall and winter term of the Scituate high school academic year had wound its way down to its final day. The town's young scholars, who had studied long and hard for their examinations, marched their way through the streets to congregate one final time, before taking a well-deserved one week break to fully enjoy the Christmas season.
As noontime approached, on Friday, December 22nd, 1899, and they allowed their weary writing hands some rest, the students left their desks and headed for the Town Hall for an afternoon social. Once gathered, the youngsters received recognition from the school for their achievements during the year. Superintendent Edgar Lincoln Willard congratulated Israel Barnes, Margaret Corbett, Alonzo Pratt, Albert Dalby, and Lilla Nichols for perfect attendance, and William Barnes and Ibelle Mott for perfect attendance without tardiness.
The school then presented each of the teachers- Julius N. Mallory, Effie L. Kellogg, and Lota N. Clancy- with an appropriate gift package: a gold pen with mother of pearl handle, a silver envelope opener, a silver mounted ink stand, and a fancy pen wiper. After saying their farewells, students and teachers alike bundled themselves up- not too tightly, though, for the weather had been wonderfully mild for the entire month of December- and scurried along the streets to their homes, cheerily aglow in the spirit of the season.
The next day, over at North Scituate, the foremen of Shannehan and Company smiled contentedly at the progress being made on the second section of the new seawall they had been contracted to build. The comfortable working conditions arranged by Mother Nature pushed the project ahead of schedule, so much so that the company released the workmen that afternoon, telling them to report back on Wednesday the 27th. At the quarry on Battles Hill, the workers there received the same happy news, a four day Christmas break.
Like leaves blowing unpredictably in the wind, the citizens of Scituate bustled from homes to stores to churches to homes in excited preparation for the holiday to come. Some of the town's prominent summer residents surprised the year-round population by popping their cottages open for the Christmas week. Other familiar but unexpected faces appeared as well, as the Misses Elsie E. Turner and Velma W. Morris, enrolled students at Bridgewater Normal, returned home on vacation to be among family and friends.
Shoppers pored over dozens of gift ideas at the Welch Company and the variety store of Seaverns and Spear, but many folks purchased the year's perfect gift, the new Columbia calendar, from Mr. Frederick T. Bailey. "It is a very unique affair," wrote the North Scituate correspondent to the Vining And Mathews Syndicate of South Shore Newspapers on December 29, 1899, "one exterior view and one interior view, the latter giving one an idea as to the size of the fireplace added by Mr. Barker." The Columbia, the Boston pilot boat wrecked at Sand Hills the previous year during the Portland Gale, claiming the lives of all five men aboard, remained unmoved from its disaster site, now serving as a museum.
The lifesaving crews who so valiantly served to protect the lives of the locals during the Portland Gale reflected back on the year just passed, as they watched a storm begin to brew Christmas Eve day. Keeper Frederick T. Stanley's Fourth Cliff U.S. Life-Saving Service surfmen aided six vessels between May and October, all without a loss of life, but Keeper George Brown's North Scituate crew had not been so lucky. Although they successfully floated the stranded schooner Emma W. Brown on February 7 and diverted another unnamed schooner from disaster by firing a blank cartridge from their Lyle gun on March 26, they faced the gruesome task of retrieving a decayed body from the surf and loading it onto the undertaker's wagon on May 22. On December 7, they stood helplessly by as a physician worked over the form of Nathaniel Wade for an hour before declaring him dead. The 79-year old man, caught out on the flats near the station by the quick-rising incoming tide, had struggled as far as he could towards the shore before collapsing into the arms of two brave volunteer rescuers. Although his head never sank below the level of the water, his overexertion caused his heart to give out. As the wind picked up outside, the lifesavers contemplated what surprises the rest of the winter would bring them.
The storm raged strongly enough that evening to postpone the planned concert at the Methodist Episcopal church by one week, but the Baptists would not be deterred. More than 125 plates graced the tables at the church, piled high with salads, cakes, pies, tarts, oranges, with a variety of sauces. Following the feast a series of performers delighted the audience with recitations and songs, and Deacon Henry Turner Bailey's telling of a touching Christmas story. The gathered throng then launched into an impromptu rendition of "Joy to the World," before breaking into two groups; the younger set played games, while the adults held a social hour.
Mr. Henry Merritt of North Scituate rested comfortably in his favorite chair that night, peacefully perusing the day's newspapers, happily prepared to doze off where he sat, when a knock came at the door. To his surprise, when he rose to open it, his many friends invaded his parlor, carrying armloads of ice cream and other delectable delights, and shouting choruses of "Congratulations!" all around. Fifty years ago that Christmas Day, the Reverend Ephraim Nute had pronounced Henry and Lydia Merritt man and wife, and, even amongst the confused up tempo atmosphere of the holiday season, their friends had remembered their golden anniversary. After they had all left for the night, Henry and Lydia settled their heads against their pillows, and fell peacefully into sleep with smiles upon their faces.
When the sun rose the next morning to cast its rays across the barren trees and otherwise empty landscape of a green Christmas, Mrs. Mercy B. Severn and Mr. Sereno B. Spear awoke to a pair of surprises. The clerks at their variety store presented each with a Christmas gift: for her, a handsome clock, and for him, a gold-headed umbrella.
All over town, the children of Scituate played either indoors with new dolls and trains, or outdoors, taking advantage of the still temperate weather, only wishing there had been some snow with which to build snowmen and make snowballs. Their parents, older siblings, and grandparents stoked fires, prepared Christmas dinners, and relaxingly chatted about the year's past events.
As the day wore on into night, and the Christmas holiday passed, one excitingly
ominous fact increasingly grasped the attention of every man, woman and child
in town. An incredibly magical event, even more magical than Christmas, would
soon take place. In one short week, the people of Scituate and the rest of
the world would bid a fond farewell to 1899 and a century of amazing progress,
and embracingly welcome not only a new year, but a new century.