Missouri History Museum
Thanksgiving Towne, c. 1900
Thanksgiving has been celebrated in St. Louis since the 19th century, but the holiday didn’t become popular until the decades after the Civil War. Originally, it was very much a religious affair, as well, and residents streamed into churches before the meal on Thursday. President Ulysses S. Grant had originally signed into law the Holidays Act on June 28, 1870, creating Thanksgiving, and the day increased in popularity in the decades afterward. Newspapers from the 19th century give us a window into how the people of St. Louis observed the holiday.
In 1879, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch published the sermon of Rev. W.W. Boyd at Second Baptist Church. It revealed that the annual service on Thanksgiving often turned to temporal and non-religious matters. Rev. Boyd lectured about the current military and political environment in Central Europe. The German Empire, fresh from unification and its great victory against France in 1871, was now in direct competition with the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Second Baptist’s pastor believed there would be more conflict. The Reverend also took a swipe at the Protestant leader Martin Luther, describing him as “violent and bitter, perhaps as bigoted and intolerant as the [Roman Catholic] monks with whom he fought.”
One wonders what this all had to do with Thanksgiving, but nonetheless, it is all preserved for posterity.
In 1890, due to a scarcity of turkey, St. Louisans turned to other animals for their Thanksgiving meals. Roast pig, duck, and goose proved to be competent replacements that year. That year, the Post-Dispatch incorrectly predicted that the pumpkin pie would fall out of favor forever. English plum pudding would usurp it as the most famous of Thanksgiving desserts. The newspaper also described a popular game children played in the 1890s called “Pin the Head on the Turkey.” The players would be blindfolded, turned around three times, and then would attempt to pin a paper head back on a drawing of a decapitated turkey. Tableaux, which could be best described as live-action paintings using actors standing or posing as if they are in a composition, were also popular as reenactments of the traditional Thanksgiving story.
An article from 1892 in the Globe-Democrat gives us a window into how city government and its various branches operated during the holiday. At The Workhouse—which at the time was located along South Broadway and featured a huge quarry in the river bluffs—the inmates received the day off. No turkey was served, though the men and women each received an extra portion of meat. The inmates could play card and craps, and visitors could bring food that was first carefully inspected by guards. At the Insane Asylum on Arsenal Street, roast chicken was served but otherwise the daily routine stayed the same. At the Poor House, no celebrations or change in the cuisine occurred at all. At the jail attached to the old Four Courts Courthouse, the inmates only received an extra hour of exercise time and were not even notified that it was Thanksgiving.
St. Louisans in 1892 managed to buy all the turkeys in the city, exhausting the inventory suppliers had purchased that year. After dinner, people headed to movie theaters, as many Americans did until this year. For those without the money to buy their own Thanksgiving meal, the Bethel Home and Colman Mission provided free dinners.
In 1897, an interview with the wife of Mayor Henry Ziegenhein reveals how members of St. Louis high society celebrated Thanksgiving. The meal, like at Christmas, began promptly at noon, as was the German custom, and then entertainment would follow for the rest of the afternoon. Guests were limited to close friends, but numbers were not capped. The Ziegenheins owned a large mansion on the site of the former Adam Lemp beer garden, so the parties must have been large affairs. Later in the evening, light snacks were served. While Mrs. Ziegenhein drank wine, her husband insisted on drinking beer. Interestingly, there was plum pudding for dessert, topped off with coffee.
A certain Mrs. Johnston, however, had a different take on Thanksgiving:
“‘Can one pray on compulsion or be joyful at a fixed date?’ inquires Mrs. Maria Johnston. ‘When the President of the United States or the Governor of the Commonwealth of Missouri proclaims that we shall return thanks for value received, I have no objection to going down on my knees with the crowd. It seems rather premeditated, however, and I suggest that stereotyped forms of expression be used.
“The dinner? Could we procure for the first course a smile on toast? The next might be a dish of herbs with a garnishment of contentment. The conversation of a pretty girl, with sauce piquant, would take well with the gentleman.”
