Lou’s View: THREE NIGHTS AT RATTLESNAKE: A CHRISTMAS STORY
By Lou Bernard
It’s the holiday season! I’ll admit that we’re celebrating Christmas, or trying to, at the end of one awful year. Nobody has had such a great time this year, including myself. But in the interest of trying to stay upbeat, I thought I’d share some lighthearted Christmas folklore with you, compiled by one of my idols, Henry Wharton Shoemaker.
Shoemaker was known for writing down old legends of ghosts, curses, and creatures. He did a few Christmas stories along the way, too: In the past, I’ve written about the story of the mannequins in Sugar Valley who came to life every Christmas Eve, and the story of the devil visiting Clinton County to deliver a Christmas present to an evil man. Shoemaker didn’t exactly tell typical, heartwarming holiday stories.
I’ve recently come across one I didn’t know before. His story “Three Nights At Rattlesnake” is from his 1931 book “Some Stories of Old Deserted Houses.” And though it doesn’t sound as if it should be a story for the holidays, I assure you that it is, more or less, and I wanted to share it with you.
The story takes place in a tavern by Rattlesnake Run, in Grugan Township. Though today this is not the easiest area of the county to get to, once upon a time it was a big lumbering area and a spot for travelers to stop and stay over. There was a tavern there, run by a landlord named Emanuel Gunsalis, and one Christmas Eve he received some important visitors. They were said to be French royalty in exile, and they stopped by on a very busy night.
“Gunsalis was clever enough to note that his newly-arrived guests were quality, and made special efforts for their comfort,” said the story. A Revolutionary War veteran named Henry Mizner was playing the fiddle for the guests, and bartender John Clingman was busily serving everyone. The famous local puppeteer Philip Hauntz was at the end of one table, performing with a Santa puppet, while a Native American named Big John did magic, and a beautiful woman named Anne Hennegrave sang and assisted them both.
One of the royal visitors, a man named Palmatier, admired Anne, and wanted to get to know her better. That night as he slept, he had a dream about her. (For purposes of brevity, I am condensing here. Shoemaker’s stories were always so rich in detail that I don’t have the space to tell it the way he did.) After the place was snowed in that night, he decided to make the most of the opportunity. In the morning, he asked her if she’d like to go out for a walk with him.
As they walked, he told her about the dream. She confessed that she’d had a similar dream. Then he asked if she would marry him.
Anne confessed that she was already engaged to a sailor who had been away at sea for two years. She told Palmatier that if the sailor wasn’t back by next Christmas, she’d meet him back at Rattlesnake, and marry him.
Over the next year, Palmatier received a letter from Anne. Her sailor had returned, and she was marrying him. Palmatier chose to settle in the forests of Pennsylvania, building a cabin to live in, and it was there some years later when he learned that Anne’s husband had been killed at sea.
He wrote a letter to Anne, asking if she would like to meet him for Christmas back at Rattlesnake. Anne accepted, and the two of them were married at the tavern on Christmas Day.
Shoemaker told some interesting stories—Some involving holidays, and some involving romance. This one was both. For this holiday season, I wanted to share it with you.
