Santas waiting to speak to Debra Schimdt Bach of the New-York Historical Society. Before the talk, a poll asked participants how many of them use “A Visit from St. Nicholas” in their role as Santa. Of the 10 who answered, 60% work with the poem and 40% do not.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK, April 22, 2020—Debra Schimdt Bach, curator of decorative arts at the New-York Historical Society, said she wishes all of her Zoom conferences ended with a group ho-ho-ho with 20 Santas.

Entitled “Sit (Virtually) at the Desk of Clement Clarke Moore,” the talk was tailored to educate the New York City Santas, a new chapter of the International Brotherhood of Real Bearded Santas (IBRBS). 

During the pandemic, the NYC Santas have organized other virtual meetings open to Clauses throughout the nation. This 30-minute program was the first dedicated to Moore, who is credited for writing “A Visit from St. Nicholas,” better known as “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.” 

To illustrate, Bach showed archival photographs of the “secretary/chest of drawers” that most likely belonged to Moore and most likely was the very piece of furniture on which he wrote his famous poem. 

“We believe it belonged to Moore and we believe that he wrote the poem,” Bach said.

The poem first appeared anonymously in the Troy Sentinel in 1823. Moore was not publicly attributed as the writer until 1837 when it was included in the New York Book of Poetry. He acknowledged authorship in 1838 and published it under his name in 1844.

So this time lag between when it first appeared and when he took credit has led to debate.

Moore was an Episcopalian minister and professor at the General Theological Seminary in Manhattan. Moore donated some of his inherited estate, called Chelsea, to the seminary. Other pieces of his property eventually formed Chelsea, the West Side neighborhood that still bears its name. Could Moore really have authored this beloved piece of American literature? Or was it someone else? According to Bach, most scholars believe Moore wrote the poem based on the syntax of his other writings.

Legend has it that Moore first recited it at his Chelsea home on Christmas Eve 1822 to entertain his many children. A theory is that a young Harriet Butler from Troy, New York, was also at that reading and recorded it in her personal copy book. Her father and Moore were close friends and fellow ministers. One of Harriet Butler’s brothers was named Reverend Clement Moore Butler, making her a leading candidate as the one who submitted the poem to the Troy Sentinel the following year.

“She was very much enamored with the poem,” Bach said of Harriet Butler, adding that the desk was donated to the New-York Historical Society in 1956 through Butler’s family. She never married. The item was handed down the family line through a cousin.

Bach also showed a handwritten black and white copy of the manuscript signed and dated by Moore in 1937 as a gift to the New-York Historical Society. Also in the society’s collection is an 1837 painting by Robert Walter Weir, entitled St. Nicholas, that depicts a fireplace and an elfin figure with his finger alongside his nose. One of the Santas in the talk noticed a broken clay pipe at the figure’s feet, which Bach attributed to a Dutch tradition of breaking pipes on St. Nicholas Day (December 6).

The painting reveals a “merging of ideas and influence” that developed a “public legacy” of a jolly character rather than the dour religious image from Europe. It also reveals a cultural movement meant to preserve New York’s Dutch heritage. Weir may have been inspired by Moore. Moore was certainly friendly with writer Washington Irving. Irving’s Knickerbockers History of New York first depicted a comedic version of St. Nicholas. In 1835, Irving founded the St. Nicholas Society, a social club for male ancestors of Dutch colonists. 

“Despite the fact that St. Nicholas was a Catholic saint, it appears that early Dutch New Yorkers really stayed true to celebrating St. Nicholas and revering him as a patron of children, as a patron of New Amsterdam,” Bach said. “I’ve also read that he was the patron saint of the greater colony of New York, although I’ve only read that in one place.”

In her research for this talk, Bach discovered that St. Nicholas is also the patron saint of her place of employment, the New-York Historical Society. 

“I think certainly St. Nicholas as we know him was a New York invention,” Bach said during the Q & A. “So, yes, it does appear that the whole idea of celebrating St. Nicholas in a very whole-hearted cultural way may have originated in the United States in early colonial New York.”

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You may go to YouTube for a recording of the talk that took place April 22, 2020.

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Photo by Kevin Hagen of the Wall Street Journal. Taken Dec. 3, 2019 and appearing in the publication on Dec. 10 online and Dec. 11 in print.

Oh, adrenaline has been pumping through my 500-year-old veins these past few weeks. Last Wednesday, the Wall Street Journal’s Anne Kadet profiled Mrs. Claus in a lovely Metro Money piece called: “‘Ring Your Bells, Sisters!’ Mrs. Claus Says.’" The column appeared online Dec. 10, but the same article took up an entire half page on Wednesday. On that morning, friends and acquaintances emailed me photos from their point of views above their morning papers. I could almost see their collective spray of coffee and hear their gasps of surprise.

That night, I met State Senator Robert Jackson in his offices in Inwood.

I got to meet a woman named Carmen Rojas, who was honored for her community activism on asbestos-related issues. The party happened on the same day the article came out, so I was better able to show and explain what Mrs. Claus does. I’m not Santa, but I can reach an audience in a different way.

Carmen Rojas was the evening’s person of honor. She is in the yellow scarf. So much positive energy in this line-up.

Since then, I have connected to the gorgeous Mrs. Claus mentioned in the piece. She calls herself Aurora Claus, and she is from the so-close-yet-so-faraway Lower Hudson Valley. I hope the WSJ story raises the visibility of female Clauses in NYC and around the country. And Aurora and I must must must meet.

This week, I wore my gorgeous new dress for a volunteer function in Upper Manhattan. To my surprise, two women asked if they could get men for Christmas. This is a new one for me. I told them that some things don’t fit under a tree. But had I been more nimble-minded, I would have said: “Oh, darlings. They have so many instructions. Are you ready for all that responsibility?”

Stay tuned for more about my new suit and the woman who made it for me.

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Dancing keeps us youthful! #westchesterwinterwonderland #mrsclausnyc #santa

18 Likes, 1 Comments - Mrs. Claus NYC (@mrsclausnyc) on Instagram: "Dancing keeps us youthful! #westchesterwinterwonderland #mrsclausnyc #santa"

In Vaudeville days of the late 1800s and the 1930s, music and steps were in a constant state of evolution as acts traveled the country. Amid all the change and transience, actors used time steps to communicate tempos to band leaders they had only just met.

In my third year as a single Mrs. Claus without a regular Santa, I have tried to get everything “right,” by attending Santa Claus school and paying for webinars produced by seasoned Kringles. With my dancer’s desire to be perfect and obedient, I took vigorous notes about how I should have a “backstory” about how I met my Santa (of the moment). We should call each other on the phone and talk about our favorite vacation spots or our courtship.

Over the weekend, I met “my Santa” for the evening in a freezing trailer behind a circus tent in an upstate New York winter wonderland. We shared this trailer with a clown, three dogs, various novelty acts, and the event’s manager. I had no idea what was expected to me—I had taken the job via text—so soon after my arrival by train, I wandered into the Santa Experience tent and learned I would be working near the photo Santa. This isn’t a criticism of the venue but a reality of being a performer. We use a lot of brains to navigate new situations.

With barely a chance to exchange basic pleasantries, my temporary hubby and I dug in. He sat in the big chair. I assumed the role of line manager, chatting with nervous kids and taking photos of families with Santa. Not a single child asked how I met Santa or how many elves we had together. And no one seemed to care for such a short meeting with St. Nick.

During a rare moment alone with no guests, Santa stood up and did a soft shoe essence, one type of time steps from the Vaudeville era. (Tap purists may argue that soft shoe dances were performed with leather soles instead of metal taps and therefore not capable of being time steps. Yet this syncopated combination is commonly considered a time step.) I joined getting a sense of how my partner moved and breathed. Soon the elves in the tent were laughing, and parents began taking videos of us as they headed into the tent. “Do it again,” they said, with iPhones cued to “video.”

Within minutes, we were married in the only way it counted for the evening: through fun and companionship.

So the point of this post is: How important is “backstory” when presence and a few shared tricks might mean more? In badly written novels, the exposition is the boring part while a story and scene make the characters hum. I can’t remember all that biographer anyway each time I work with a different Santa; it bogs me down and makes me nervous.

In Santa school, a few Clauses taught me the Reindeer Macarena, another fun number that Claus teams can do together.

As we branch out as independent performers, we need more easy bits to develop a common North Pole language.

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photo by Kitt Creative

I admit I am a sidekick in the Christmas pantheon, at least here in the city. But as the world craves female voices, my image evolves. As a Santa friend reminds me, Lois Lane has had several makeovers to stay relevant. Likewise, Mrs. Claus is like a comic book character who experiences updates each decade. I definitely feel a change in my own folkloric DNA that is both exciting and scary. Who am I? Am I old? Am I young?

Some female peers want me to break all the rules and be a feminist warrior. Others are shocked I dare wear anything other than an apron and traditional mob cap, the ruffly hat preferred by Martha Washington. One Santa wanted me to add wrinkles to my youthful complexion, which I might do only in his company. I respect him that much, even though this feels like age-ism in reverse.

Then another St. Nick told me—gasp—that my youth makes Santa look like a “pervert,” his words in the beginning of the #MeToo era. Fellas, I love you so much I’m asking you to put your right hand on the screen and promise me you will never say this to a woman, or ANYONE, ever, especially when that person is trying to be the best version of herself. Banish this thinking from your brains forever, or at least bury it in your inner monologue. I did speak up on that one, and this influential Santa did apologize, as he should.

Yet every choice I make will be wrong in someone’s eyes, so I have to be myself and listen, listen, listen to what feels right. And I have to cheer on other Clauses to do the same. One gorgeous woman I know calls herself Ms. Santa. She is absolutely stunning and in the driver’s seat when it comes to who she is. Oh, how I admire that.

It is still hard to get work in NYC, even though I’m getting promising feedback early in the season. Here is an example through email:

Thank you for contacting us to become part of the [company name deleted] family! I have added you to our database so that we can begin to contact you for jobs in your area. But, if you have some photos, I would love a couple. Could you email some to me? Or, if there are some online somewhere, please let me know where. Also, I let all of our Mrs Claus' know that unfortunately we do not get a lot of work for Mrs Claus. But, we do get some and are getting more every year.

This is WONDERFUL news! One day, we will be trending.

Here’s a thoughtful rejection from a GigSalad client based in Tudor City in Manhattan:

I’m so sorry! We were really just looking for a Santa Claus.
Thank you though!

The 2018 gig called for a St. Nick to hand out presents and pose in pictures, in only 15 minutes. I felt sorry for the poor Santa who took that rushed job. There’s no way a human being can perform such stunts in such a short period of time. A half hour would do the trick, but candy canes! I am grateful to get a response at all.

Here’s another email through GigSalad that was for Christmas Eve 2017 on Christmas Eve 2017 in the Village:

Hi - is this for Mrs Claus or Santa Claus?

The client, whose name was Jonah, was confused. Sweet, sweet Jonah. He couldn’t figure why a silver lady like myself was writing to him instead of a gentleman with a beard. This made me smile. He seemed very stressed. I should have counseled him not to plan a major event with a costumed character on the day of the busiest night of the universe. But I never heard back.

Last week, I finally found the right number to an appropriate office at the New York Stock Exchange. The gentleman on the other end answered with a simple “hello,” nothing else. That’s a sign I found the inner sanctum.

I said, “Is this the New York Stock Exchange?”

“Yes.”

“How do I get on the schedule to ring the bell?”

The gentleman provided an email address. Before I hung up, I quickly introduced myself. “The financial world needs Mrs. Claus to ring the bell,” I said. “For better PR.” He laughed. Isn’t that glorious?

Here is my bull-market pitch to the NYSE through email:

Mon, Sep 9, 12:17 PM

to nysetv

Hi there,

My name is [deleted to maintain the magic]. I am [a] tall, confident Mrs. Claus NYC who dreams of ringing the bell for the New York Stock Exchange during the holiday season. Santa will never lose his place as the king of Christmas, but I am just as nice, if not more efficient and less well paid.

Last year, I won a scholarship to the Charles W. Howard Santa Claus School in Michigan, considered the Harvard of Christmas universities. I was also featured on Page 3 of the New York Post, Marie Claire, and Huffington Post. As a new Mrs. Claus, I have entertained the Clinton family. Here is my website.

I love getting rejections, if that is what is to happen with the NYSE. If people didn’t care, they would ignore me altogether. As you can see, I’m getting very gracious pseudo-“no’s” with honest explanations. I deserve another five cookies.

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