There was a time when most Americans over the age of 12 despised cold weather and looked upon snow as something to be shoveled or simply endured. This was not the case over one hundred years ago, particularly in Bethlehem.

No sooner had the excess of Christmas culinary treats threatened Victorian waistlines, Bethlehem residents anxiously awaited the time to have fun between New Year's Day and Jan. 6 - the "Winter Carnival."

Residents adapted themselves to an old European custom, the "Winter Carnival" which included ice-skating on the frozen Lehigh canal. But more fun could to be had at the foot of Market and Main streets as reported by Bethlehem Globe, when "merry coasters packed like sardines on bobsleds, halloaing to warn anyone who was in the way, [gave] vent to their excited enthusiasm."

Winter Carnival activities eventually evolved into the social "Sleighing Season" in which anyone who owned a horse-drawn sleigh or a lowly bobsled qualified for enjoyment on the ice and snow.

From the 1870s to the turn of the 20th century, adults and children enjoyed traditional sleighing parties in which large groups of friends and relatives wrapped themselves in robes and furs and were whisked away by teams of thoroughbred horses attached to beautifully crafted sleighs. Those who stayed home recalled the tinkling sound of sleigh bells fade into the darkness, muffled by the snow-covered countryside.

Residents in "society" had a greater advantage - they afforded the fast sleek horses and brightly varnished sleighs built for snow-covered roads and lanes. In 1876, the Allentown Daily Chronicle recounted the sleigh ride of E.P. Wilbur of Fountain Hill. In celebration of Wilbur's 40th birthday Jan. 31, his wife Stella with a band of jolly friends took a nighttime sleigh ride up Broadway. When they reached the top of Gauff's Hill, Wilbur's sleek, high tempered four-in-hand team (four horse power, to be exact) dashed down the new pike (Susquehanna Street) toward Allentown and eventually galloped down snow-covered Hamilton Street. In great fanfare, the team rushed the sleigh up to Hotel Allen in billowing clouds of snow as the horses' nostrils snorted steam into the frigid air.

By the 1890s, sleighing parties developed into an annual event attended by local residents who lined the curbs of Main and Broad streets. The real show stopper took place on snow-covered Market Street where people lined the curbs dressed in warm woolen hoods that covered their ears and heads from the biting cold. From this curbside vantage point, they easily observed lucky belles and beaux of "society" who experienced first-hand the speed of sleighing on the street of ice and snow.

In January 1893, the Bethlehem Times also gave accounts of notorious Market Street sleighing parties … seated in a speedy pacer, an enthusiastic young lady bundled in warm robes exclaimed, "This is simply grand, superb, delightful! I never knew all this pleasure was to be obtained from a snow flake," and clapped her plump-gloved hands to her dainty ears, red from the sharp blasts from the northwest.

She gushingly continued, "I'd like to ride a million miles in the snow. The gusts that drive it in your face are horrid, but how beautiful it looks when the electric lights shine on the earth's white cover. Then it is as though all the diamonds in the world are illuminated by its rays, and respond by radiating forth glints and gleams of dazzling brilliancy. I think it's a pleasure to live as long as we can to enjoy this magnificent sleighing."

The account continued to describe how her horse became restive as the gay young lady chattered on and on, when her brother who was driving could no longer hold him. The horse suddenly bolted, determined to overtake those already ahead and threw out volumes of snow against the crowd when his sharp hoofs struck the packed frozen surface.

Elsewhere on Market Street, a sedate Harry Weiss held the reins over his black blue-ribbon winners - his turnout was pronounced one of the most stylish on the street. The horse's rich silver mounted harness was decked with plumes of grey foxtails and silver chimes, while his passengers in the speeding cutter were warmly snuggled within Russian robes.

Drawn by a greatly admired team of Vanderbilt bays, Robert H. Sayre's family sleigh held a merry party of boys and girls hidden up to their ears in rich robes. Onlookers watched the fast-paced team easily slide his sleigh over the snow.

The crowd cheered on T. M. Dodson's silver-tail sorrel and black team with a pair of coachmen attired in "swell" livery. Inside Dodson's sleigh, lady passengers were almost entirely concealed and beneath a mass of warm sealskin and sable robes. Mrs. Weston Dodson's pretty matched team of blacks drew a sleigh filled with a party of charming young ladies, while former Burgess, Charles M. Dodson's handsome matched team of iron grays and dazzling sleigh were considered one of the prettiest sights on Market Street.

Drawn by a team of disciplined bays, Robert Packer Linderman's sleigh glided effortlessly along the street while his brother, Garrett Brodhead Linderman's big bays cut through the snow at a high rate of speed - the envy of many sleigh drivers.

Mr. and Mrs. Harry E. Taylor, seated behind one of the finest matched pair of bays in the Lehigh Valley, "Dick" and "Daisy," traveled at a three-minute gait with great panache. Warren Abbott Wilbur's black and bay roadsters named "Euchre" and "Dandy" earned marks of 2:35 and 2:45 respectively and sped along the snow at an admirable gait. Friends along the curb waved to Mr. and Mrs. Albert Kemerer seated in a dashing Portland cutter drawn by the famous cross-match team named "General" and "Buster."

Some adventurous sleighing parties sojourned outside of Bethlehem to Coopersburg, Moorestown and Bath. On their return home at midnight, parties of famished passengers stopped at the Wyandotte Hotel in South Bethlehem or the Eagle Hotel in Bethlehem for midnight snacks of creamed chicken and waffles - while a few even enjoyed elaborate banquets.

At the conclusion of many cold afternoon outings, Robert P. Linderman's steeds and sleigh returned to the stable on Brighton Street behind his mansion. Winter's chill may have prompted him to imbibe in a pre-dinner "stiffener" or aperitif. "In a room beneath the staircase in the hall," recalled Robert P. L. Frick, "he kept a personal little leather-boxed 'bar' with four decanters - brandy, port, cognac and whisky - and a solitary glass."

Describing this forgotten, vanished way of life, especially winter sleighing parties, historian W. Ross Yates wrote, "Who could want anything more?"