The Great Snowball Assault of 1892

The weather was right for packing good snowballs. The targets were a plenty. Nobody stopped them.

February 5, 1892, as reported in the Phoenix:

The heavy fall of damp snow, which came on Tuesday and Tuesday night, was followed Wednesday by the worst exhibition of hoodlumism ever seen on Brattleboro streets.

In the early morning the boys began snow-balling in an entirely proper and legitimate way, but at noon this had degenerated into a wanton and indiscriminate attack upon every passerby, and upon every team, person and object which chanced for any reason to furnish a target. 

Grown-up people who went through the streets for any reason, minding their own business and paying no attention to the boys, were constantly assailed. Many horses were hit, one serious runaway was caused, that of Mr. Stickney, and other horses were only saved from running by good luck or skillful management. 

(Mr. Stickney was driving with his bakery cart near the town hall when the young hoodlums threw snow balls at his horse, causing the animal to start suddenly. In hastily making the change from wheels to runners, the hold backs were not used, and the cart went forward against the horse, causing renewed fright. On rounding the Elliot street corner the cart was overturned and Mr. Stickney fell under it, but he managed to stop the horse. He was taken home in a coupe and it was thought at first he was seriously injured about the hip and back, with bruises on the head. The injuries, however, are not as bad as feared and he will probably be about in a few days.)

Old men were repeatedly singled out for these attacks, and in one case a man was driven into a Main street store, while half a dozen lads “laid” for him outside with their hands full of snow-balls, and remained there until the proprietor came out and drove them off. This man was hit in the head several times, and one boy even opened the store door and fired a shot at him while he was inside. 

Other cases equally flagrant took place.

It was a time when the village bailiffs and police were conspicuously at fault for not giving the boys prompt warning to stop such proceedings, following this up with arrests, if the warning was not heeded. The indignation felt by all who witnessed the day’s performance was great and outspoken.

The effervescence of youthful spirits is well enough in its place, but when it becomes a menace to the public safety it is time for the law to take its course.

…

In retrospect, we can laugh about what must have been quite a disorienting day for downtown visitors. At the time, it was a chaotic and downright dangerous situation, especially when horses are out and about.

But that’s often the case with a snowball attack. Of course it isn’t a smart thing to do. Of course someone may get hurt. Of course the snowball throwers are being stupid. 

As a former thrower of snowballs at improper targets, I can say that Jimminy Cricket doesn’t have a chance of talking you out of a well-lobbed snowball. His concerns can only be heard after it is thrown and makes successful impact. Then and only then does the snowballing brain say “uh oh, maybe I shouldn’t have thrown that,” or “uh oh, I am going to be in trouble now.”

So, in that spirit, I forgive the boys of 1892 for their outburst.