Christmas at Fort Edmonton 1846

Does your family serve Christmas dinner oddly early? In this article, from the December 1927 issue of The Beaver magazine, dinner is served at 2 o’clock in the afternoon. Originally, the following is from “Wanderings of an Artist Among the Indians of North America," by Paul Kane, writing of 1846; book published by Longman, Brown, Green, Longmans & Roberts, London, 1869. 




Edmonton, 1867 (H.B.C Fort).

On Christmas Day the flag was hoisted, and all appeared in their best and gaudiest style to do honour to the holiday. Towards noon every chimney gave evidence of being in full blast, whilst savoury steams of cooking pervaded the atmosphere in all directions. About two o’clock we sat down to dinner. Our party consisted of Mr. Harriett, the chief, and three clerks, Mr. Thebo, the Roman Catholic missionary from Manitou Lake, about thirty miles off, Mr. Rundell, the Wesleyan missionary, who resided within the pickets, and myself, the wanderer, who, though returning from the shores of the Pacific, was still the latest importation from civilized life.

“The dining hall in which we assembled was the largest room in the fort, probably about fifty by twenty-five feet, well warmed by large fires which are scarcely ever allowed to go out. The walls and ceilings are boarded, as plastering is not used, there being no limestone within reach; but these boards are painted in a style of the most startling barbaric gaudiness, and the ceiling filled with centre-pieces of fantastic gilt scrolls, making altogether a saloon which no white man would enter for the first time without a start, and which the Indians always looked upon with awe and wonder.

“The room was intended as a reception room for the wild chiefs who visited the fort; and the artist who designed the decorations was no doubt directed to ‘astonish the natives.’ If such were his instructions, he deserves the highest praise for having faithfully complied with them, although, were he to attempt a repetition of the same style in one of the rooms of the Vatican, it might subject him to some severe criticisms from the fastidious. No tablecloth shed its snowy whiteness over the board; no silver candelabra or gaudy china interfered with its simple magnificence. The bright tin plates and dishes reflected jolly faces, and burnished gold can give no truer zest to a feast.

“Perhaps it might be interesting to some dyspeptic idler who painfully strolls through a city park to coax an appetite to a sufficient intensity to enable him to pick an ortolan if I were to describe to him the fare set before us to appease appetites nourished by constant outdoor exercise in an atmosphere ranging at 40° to 50° below zero. At the head, before Mr. Harriett, was a large dish of boiled buffalo hump; at the foot smoked a boiled buffalo calf. Start not, gentle reader, the calf is very small, and is taken from the cow by the Caesarean operation long before it attains its full growth. This, boiled whole, is one of the most esteemed dishes amongst the epicures of the interior. My pleasing duty was to help a dish of mouffle, or dried moose nose; the gentleman on my left distributed, with graceful impartiality, the white fish, delicately browned in buffalo marrow. The worthy priest helped the buffalo tongue, whilst Mr. Run- dell cut up the beavers’ tails. Nor was the other gentleman left unemployed, as all his spare time was occupied in dissecting a roast wild goose. The centre of the table was graced with piles of potatoes, turnips, and bread conveniently placed, so that each could help himself without interrupting the labours of his companions. Such was our jolly Christ- mas dinner at Edmonton; and long will it remain in my memory, although no pies or puddings, or blanc manges, shed their fragrance over the scene.

“In the evening the hall was prepared for the dance, to which Mr. Harriett had invited all the inmates of the fort, and was early filled by the gaily dressed guests. Indians whose chief ornament consisted in the paint on their faces, voyageurs with bright sashes and neatly ornamented moccasins, half-breeds glittering in every ornament they could lay their hands on; whether civilized or savage, all were laughing, and jabbering in as many different languages as there were styles of dress. English, how- ever, was little used, as none could speak it but those who sat at the dinner table. The dancing was most picturesque, and almost all joined in it. Occasionally I, among the rest, led out a young Cree squaw who sported enough beads round her neck to have made a pedlar’s fortune, and having led her into the centre of the room, I danced round her with all the agility I was capable of exhibiting to some highland reel tune which the fiddler played with great vigour, whilst my partner, with grave face, kept jumping up and down, both feet off the ground at once, as only an Indian can dance. I believe, however, that we elicited a great deal of applause from Indian squaws and children, who sat squatting round the room on the floor. Another lady with whom I sported the light fantastic toe, whose poetic name was Cun-ne-wa-btim, or “One That Looks at the Stars,” was a half-breed Cree girl; and I was so much struck by her beauty that I prevailed upon her to promise to sit for her likeness, which she afterwards did with great patience, holding her fan, which was made of the tip end of swan’s wing with an ornamental handle of porcupine’s quills, in a most coquettish manner.”




Edmonton Today, 1927.  (Courtesy R.C.A.F.)