
(Ed note: I wrote this several years ago. It is copied with changes from Clement C, Moore’s famous Poem. I love Charles Town and can at times picture it at its beginnings. Merry Christmas to all and to all a Happy New Year. Pictured Left is Santa by Thomas Nast 1890
James P. Whipple
Editor of the Charles Town Crier.)
James P. Whipple
Editor of the Charles Town Crier.)
Twas the night before Christmas and all through Charles Town not a creature was stirring not even a horse.
The stockings were hung by the merchants with care, in hopes that Santa would soon be there.
The children were all snuggled warm in their beds with dreams of presents spinning their heads.
Ma in her wool nightgown and I in my cap had just settled down for a short winters nap. Out on Washington Street there rose such a clatter that I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash to open the shutters and through open the sash.
The snow covered streets were bright from the moon light and there standing by Charles and Washington Streets was a sleigh with eight reindeer. There was a little old man who was lively and quick who jumped from the sleigh, I knew in a moment it must be Santa.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his feet. His clothing was all tarnished with ash and soot. A bundle of toys he had on his back, he looked like a peddler just opening his sack. His face was broad with a beard that was as white as the snow; his belly was round and shook like a bowl full of jelly whenever he laughed.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know that I had nothing to fear. He went straight to work, flying from rooftop to rooftop; disappearing in one chimney and climbing out another, quick as a wink his work was complete.
With a nod of his head and a pipe in his teeth he seemed to be saying “I’ve done a good job.”
Suddenly he sprang to his sled and whistled and shouted “On Dancer, Donner and Blitzen.” The wind from the sled caused the new fallen snow to swirl.
I herd him shout as he flew out of sight “Merry Christmas to Charles Town and to all a good night.”
James P. Whipple
This poem is borrowed from The Night before Christmas by Clement C, Moore.
The stockings were hung by the merchants with care, in hopes that Santa would soon be there.
The children were all snuggled warm in their beds with dreams of presents spinning their heads.
Ma in her wool nightgown and I in my cap had just settled down for a short winters nap. Out on Washington Street there rose such a clatter that I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash to open the shutters and through open the sash.
The snow covered streets were bright from the moon light and there standing by Charles and Washington Streets was a sleigh with eight reindeer. There was a little old man who was lively and quick who jumped from the sleigh, I knew in a moment it must be Santa.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his feet. His clothing was all tarnished with ash and soot. A bundle of toys he had on his back, he looked like a peddler just opening his sack. His face was broad with a beard that was as white as the snow; his belly was round and shook like a bowl full of jelly whenever he laughed.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know that I had nothing to fear. He went straight to work, flying from rooftop to rooftop; disappearing in one chimney and climbing out another, quick as a wink his work was complete.
With a nod of his head and a pipe in his teeth he seemed to be saying “I’ve done a good job.”
Suddenly he sprang to his sled and whistled and shouted “On Dancer, Donner and Blitzen.” The wind from the sled caused the new fallen snow to swirl.
I herd him shout as he flew out of sight “Merry Christmas to Charles Town and to all a good night.”
James P. Whipple
This poem is borrowed from The Night before Christmas by Clement C, Moore.


