Archive for the ‘Colonial America’ Category

Have we forgotten?

Thursday, April 19th, 2012

On this day in 1774, men led by members of the colonial rebel group the Sons of Liberty boarded a ship at anchor, tore apart chests of tea and dumped them overboard. This was not the Boston Tea Party – it was The New York Tea party—one of several that most people have never heard of.

Kate Dolan writes about the Edenton and other "forgotten" tea parties

Women Behaving Badly - The Edenton Tea Party as depicted by British cartoonists

The modern political “tea party” movement has inspired a resurgence of interest in the original tea party protests leading up to the American Revolution—at least in author Joseph Cummins and the publisher he convinced to release Ten Tea Parties: Patriotic Protests that History Forgot. Despite the fact the somewhat ridiculous title, (we wouldn’t have a tea party movement if people didn’t remember at least the Boston Tea Party, which is the first described in the book) it’s a pretty good read, as far as popular histories go. (more…)

Were accommodations worse in the jail or tavern?

Thursday, April 12th, 2012

On Tuesday I wrote about the museum at the 18th Century town of Halifax, North Carolina, urging everyone on the dreadfully dull I-95 corridor to stop and take advantage of the site (but not to let their children use the dugout canoe as a skateboard ramp for stuffed animals). Today, as the town celebrates the 236th anniversary of the Halifax Resolution, I wanted to share some information from the outbuildings at the site, namely, the jail and the Eagle Tavern.

Kate Dolan toured the Halifax jail with her kids

This is the third jail built in Halifax - the first two were set on fire by inmates to facilitate their escape. Finally the town fathers learned their lesson and used brick

The jail was still in the process of restoration when we toured it years ago, so the displays were limited and my kids found the most interesting feature to be the trap door in the floor. Since it wasn’t set on hinges, they couldn’t get it closed properly after they opened it, and I think they were desperately afraid the history site police would swoop in on them and lock them up in a 21st Century jail. Lest readers be kept in suspense unnecessarily, I will hasten to add that the children did accompany me the rest of the way home on I-95 and are not moldering away in a rural prison dedicated to the incarceration of those who tamper with historical exhibits.

But I did learn some interesting facts about incarceration in the 18th Century, at least. Inmates had to supply not only their own clothes, but also their own linens and bedclothes. That doesn’t sound too bad, but if they were placed in irons, they had to pay for the metal, they had to pay for the blacksmith’s labor to make the manacles, and they had to pay for his labor each time the irons were put on and removed. If a prisoner was hanged, he paid for the rope, coffin and the effort to dig a hole for it. Prisoners’ goods would be sold to meet these expenses, and if that didn’t raise enough money, only then would the state step in to pick up the tab. As a rule, long-term incarceration was not a common penalty in the 18th Century. Instead of spending years in jail, a horse thief might have his ears nails to a pillory and cut off, have both his cheeks branded, and then his back whipped with 39 lashes. It all sounded a little medieval to me, but the museum curators assured me that these penalties were on the books in the late 18th or early 19th Centuries.

Te food and drink for prisoners often came from the local tavern keeper. Taverns were much more multifunctional than they are today. A tavern was not simply a place to sample the local ale. Patrons could pick up mail, spend the night, care for their horses, buy jewelry or visit the doctor. Merchants and professionals such as doctors, dentists and lawyers frequently set up shop in the corner of a tavern. But despite all this activity, taverns typically looked just like a residential house. A 1767 law required tavern keepers to erect a sizeable sign so that passers by could distinguish between public establishments and private houses. It also enabled the government to more readily spot taverns selling liquor without a license.

In some counties, up to 20% of the tavern licenses were held by women, so it was not uncommon for your host to in fact be a hostess. About half of the license holders were widows who kept the license after their husbands passed away, and many of these women only held the licenses for a few years. But the extent of the practice shows that tavern keeping was not a disreputable trade for a woman.

The Eagle Tavern in Halifax is a confusing restoration. As near as I could tell, the building that is now restored and filled with interesting and informative (and air-conditioned) displays was a late 18th Century addition to a tavern that stood on another site down the street. Local tradition holds that George Washington dined in the tavern when he visited the town in 1791, but I’m not sure whether he dined in this addition or the earlier building or one of the eleven other tavern sites in town, all of which seemed to change names every few years. While Washington left no specific comments on the quality of the food to be found at the Halifax tavern(s), the site quotes some other patrons, who are hopefully talking about different taverns. “[A] worse meal we thought impossible to find,” writes Capt. Basil Hall “till dinner time came around and showed us the extent of our miscalculations.” Another traveler complained of provisions so bad that “even the horse would have been a fool to eat.”

So if they didn’t come for the food, or the deluxe accommodations (we’ve all heard the stories about tavern patrons forced to share a bed with four strangers and countless lice), why did they come? Well, some taverns advertised “a show of cocks.” But it was not the colonial red light district. These were gamecocks, because “sports of the pit” were quite popular. In addition to betting on fighting poultry, patrons bet on dice games such as hazard, billiards, draughts (checkers), backgammon, chess and skittles (I don’t know what these are, but presumably they are not fruit-flavored little candies). Playing cards of the time look much like they do today, except that there were no little numbers printed at the corners and the cards were printed o a thinner paper than the laminated stock used now. The Eagle Tavern had a card press on display, used to flatten cards after use. I thought that was pretty neat, and it looked portable and yet heavy enough to be considered a possible murder weapon in a game of Clue.

Can you tell what my daughter’s favorite game has been this summer? (I guess Captain Hall, in the billiard room, with the card press. And the victim? Well I guess it would have most likely been the chef.)

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Most of the above information was first published on my website in 2006, but after we made a brief stop at Halifax last weekend, I decided to re-run the article because the site deserves more attention than it’s getting. Even if you stop by after the museum has closed for the day, you can still pick up a detailed map at the Visitors Center and stroll around the grounds reading about life in the old town. It’s a quick detour from the interstate, yet untold miles away in atmosphere. We strolled through fields of wildflowers where the only sounds were the hum of crickets and the chirp of birds.

And we played “Clue” on this last trip, too. Halifax isn’t the only place where things haven’t changed much in the last six years. Happy Halifax Day!

Here’s some information on the day’s events at Halifax:

Mark the 236th Anniversary of the Halifax Resolves, the first official call for independence from England by any American colony.  Tours of the site’s historic buildings will be held from 10 am-4 pm.  A formal program will be held at the Visitors Center at 2 pm.  The guest speaker will be Dr. Carole Troxler, who will present “What was the ‘Enfield Riot’ in 1758, and how did it relate to the Regulator Movement?”  The Annual Halifax Resolves Awards will be presented during the porgram.  The Halifax Resolves Awards are presented to individuals, groups, or businesses recognizing excellence in the field of historic preservation or restoration.  A reception will be held in the Tap Room following the program.  A permanent wayside exhibit will be featured at the Tap Room.  Visitors may also learn about the area’s history through a self-guided museum tour and a 13-minute audiovisual presentation in the Historic Halifax Visitor Center.
To learn more about the site, visit http://www.nchistoricsites.org/halifax/halifax.htm

A welcome detour

Tuesday, April 10th, 2012

I’m always on the lookout for something to take the monotony out of a day’s drive along I-95, so I was very excited to discover the town of Halifax, North Carolina. This historic site is just six miles off the interstate near the border of North Carolina and Virginia, has things to explore indoors and out, and is free. The place should be mobbed.

Instead, it was more or less empty when we first visited eight years ago and a brief stop last weekend indicated that things hadn’t changed much, if at all. So I’m going to repost the two articles I wrote in 2006–the first one today (obviously) and the second on Thursday, April 12 when the site holds its annual Halifax Day celebration. It is a great site and deserves more attention.

Kate Dolan writes about Halifax North Carolina

Halifax Day Celebration in 2003, men in colonial garb marching a few blocks away from the actual colonial buildings of the town

On our first visit, we arrived just after the Visitor’s Center had shut for the day, but some very thoughtful person had placed detailed maps in a box on the gate so we could take our own walking tour. (They still do this) When we paid a return visit two years later, we were able to view a presentation about the site, tour a small museum and visit some of the outbuildings.

The museum was just the right size to visit with two children who were tempted to use the 18th Century dugout canoe as a skateboard ramp for a stuffed bunny, even though they are old enough to know better. Although the town advertises its political history as the home of the Revolution, most of the exhibits in the museum and other buildings focus on social history — everyday life in the 18th and early 19th centuries. One facet that I found refreshing was the site’s frank acknowledgment of slavery and the treatment of free blacks. The subject is discussed openly but without sensationalism or the attempt to vilify the upper classes that is prevalent at so many other sites these days. Visitors are left to draw their own conclusions.

Halifax is subtly memorialized on the North Carolina flag, which bears the date of April 12, 1776. That is the date of the Halifax Resolution, when the North Carolina Provincial Congress voted to empower their delegates who would be attending the Continental Congress in Philadelphia to concur with the other colonies’ delegates if they voted for independence. This is taken to mean that North Carolinians, at Halifax, were the first colonists to officially recommend independence from Great Britain. But it actually sounds more like they agreed to second the motion if someone else brought it up first.

Anyway, they’re pretty proud of that resolution, as evidenced by the state flag. And for that reason, I give the museum curators at Halifax a lot of credit for not making the site an overblown rehashing of that historic document. Instead, it is much more interesting, giving information on basic life of local citizens of the period, from what they wore and ate to the situations they faced during the Revolutionary War. In 1781, the British took revenge of sorts against the “birthplace of the Revolution.” Part of Cornwallis’s army occupied the town under the command of the infamous Col. Banastre Tarleton, and the soldiers behaved so badly that Cornwallis had two of them court-martialed and hanged.

I liked Halifax so much that I decided it deserved two articles, so next month I will share pearls of wisdom about 18th Century law and order (the jail) and the high life (the Eagle Tavern). For this month, I will close with a poem that I copied down by George Moses Horton, a slave who lived from 1797 to 1883 and who wrote and published three books of poetry.

“Is it because my skin is so black

That thou shouldst be so dull and slack

And scorn to set me free?

Then let me hasten to the grave,

The only refuge for the slave

Who mourns for liberty.”

A reminder that not every North Carolina resident was able to declare independence in 1776.

 

Enigmatic Eggnog

Saturday, December 24th, 2011

As I was celebrating Christmas Eve-Eve with a glass of eggnog I wondered how long people have been drinking this stuff to celebrate the holidays.

I started my research with a book on “Colonial Christmas Cooking,” partly because it’s relevant to the season and mostly because it’s one the rabbit pulled off the shelf so I had to pick it up anyway before she ate it. Eggnog certainly seems like it could have been consumed in the 18th Century, when milky drinks like syllabub and posset enjoyed great popularity. Syllabub is a mixture of wine, sugar, spices and milk that was sometimes squirted directly from the cow to give a bubbly effect. In fact, my Christmas cookbook says the strange name of the drink derives from the town in France from which the wine was imported (Sillery) and “bub” which is an Elizabethan word for bubbly drink. Posset is a similar drink served warm.

in the colonial Gunshop at Jerusalem Mill

"What is this? Posset? Syllabub? Eggnog?"

My colonial Christmas book discusses syllabub, posset and eggnog, but the footnote for the recipe for eggnog refers to a book written in 1958. So we’ve got a lapse of a couple centuries and I need to dig a little more if I want to find early references to eggnog. (more…)

Colonial Humbug

Tuesday, December 6th, 2011

Christmas in colonial Williamsburg? Bah, humbug!

But wait, you say. That’s Scrooge’s catchphrase. Written by Dickens. So it’s Victorian.

Ah, but so are most of the holiday traditions of “Colonial” Williamsburg.Popular but probably anachronistic decoration in colonial Williamsburg

Several people told me they’d always wanted to see the recreated colonial village decorated for Christmas. And I considered myself fortunate that we had the chance to spend a day in December enjoying the sights of the old rebuilt colonial town before moving on to the real purpose of our visit – a day at the indoor waterpark. But while Colonial Williamsburg was quite festive, it was not really colonially festive. (more…)

Hair Care in the Toilet

Wednesday, November 16th, 2011

Obsession with hair care is nothing new. Before there was Rogaine and Clairol, women made their own concoctions to “prevent baldness” and “die the hair.”

Ladies elaborate hair in the 1770s

If you had hair like this, would you be worried about losing it?

 It’s no secret that women frequently color their hair, but the subject of hair loss is one that women rarely talk about and would never dream of ridiculing the way that men do. But our sex probably spends more money than men on products designed to camouflage or reverse hair loss, and that trend is not at all new, as recipes from a 1772 beauty book demonstrate. (more…)

What day is it?

Tuesday, September 6th, 2011

September 6 – if you’d been alive on this date in 1752, it would be have been September 14. And so would yesterday and tomorrow and, well, most of next week, really. September was a really messed up month in 1752, at least for Protestants.

Let me back up a bit.

This all has to do with something we take for granted – the calendar. We look at it to see what day it is, but we don’t question whether it’s accurate (unless it has pictures of pet rocks and Mr. T on it, in which case we might want to check the year).Kate Dolan writes about the evolution of the calendar

Mankind’s earliest calendars predate most other forms of writing. They were pretty accurate, which is good since they were carved in stone and not real easy to change. But they could never be completely accurate because they were based on two natural phenomena with conflicting numbers- the cycle of the seasons and the phases of the moon. (more…)

New Years in Maryland Not What it Used to Be

Thursday, December 30th, 2010

New Year’s Day is often considered a day of change, but there was one year that the change was a bit bigger than usual for Great Britain and her colonies. The change had nothing to do with New Year’s resolutions and the fact that eleven days went missing had nothing to do with excessive drinking on the part of King George or anyone else. It was a calendar correction, like shifting to daylight savings time in hyper-drive.

Most of Europe, and therefore most European colonies, had been using the Gregorian calendar since 1582. But because this new calendar was the creation of a Roman Catholic pontiff, proudly Protestant Great Britain ignored the change and continued to use the Julian calendar developed during the reign of Julius Caesar. Under the Julian calendar, each year was about eleven minutes longer than a solar year. While this doesn’t sound like much, over the course of the centuries it added up. The vernal equinox was occurring in real life about 10 days before it showed up on the calendar. Something had to be done. (more…)

Gourd ‘n Plenty

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

I don’t really like most Thanksgiving decorations, but after all the Halloween decorations come down, something needs to fill the void until I’m ready to look at reindeer and shepherds. What to use? I’ve never been terribly enamored of the turkey image as a decoration, in part because I was a vegetarian for many years and could see nothing thanks-worthy  from either the turkey’s perspective or mine. So I settled on the image of the cornucopia, the horn of plenty, overflowing with vegan alternatives to the traditional poultry-centric feast.

Thanksgiving Cornucopia

Better than a turkey

I don’t actually like to eat the squashes any more than the turkey, but the colorful gourds looked better to me than a corpulent condemned bird. Anyway, we all know the association of the turkey with Thanksgiving comes from the pilgrims who landed at Plimoth in 1620.  But where does the cornucopia image come from? (more…)

Potato Rocks and Ice Houses

Wednesday, March 25th, 2009

Not too long ago, as part of my continuing series of “quick detours to get away from the monotony of I-95,” the kids and I visited Shirley Plantation, southeast of Richmond, Virginia. The kids now profess to hate anything associated with history because I have dragged them to so many historic sites. So although the detour off the interstate was not too far, it seemed to take a very long time. The roads were narrow and winding with a shaded seclusion that gave me the sense that we were about to become the unnamed victims at the start of a horror film. Yes, the mood coming from the back of the minivan was that bad.

But as soon as we stopped, everything changed. That’s because someone decided the rocks in the parking area looked like potatoes.

Okay, whatever. I’ll take it. So the kids liked the rocks in the parking lot. There was one other thing at Shirley Plantation that captured their interest and that was the ice house. I thought it was cool that they had made it out of the foundation of an old wing of the house that had burned down. The kids just liked it because it was so deep and dark. They couldn’t see the bottom. When they dropped rocks (only the ones that did not look like potatoes) down inside, they couldn’t hear them hit the bottom.

So I thought of the kids when I visited Hampton Plantation a few weeks ago. Hampton is north of Baltimore and though it was once a two-day journey from town, I can now get there from my house in just about twenty minutes, so the kids can stay at home. But they might have liked the ice house. It reminded me of a Celtic burial mound. Up on top of the earthen mound was the hatch for putting the ice in. On the opposite side there was a walkway tunneling into the mound. It led to a door at a lower level where servants (slaves for much of the plantation’s history) could enter to extract ice when it was needed.

My next question was “just when was it needed?” Obviously the ice was stored in winter and used sometime during the warmer months. But what was it used for? The guide at the plantation said ice was used to chill wine and make ice cream. Okay, that seems reasonable. But the ice house at Hampton is 33 feet deep. Even allowing space for insulation, that’s a lot of ice if you’re just using it for ice cream.

The natural thing to us would be to use the ice for food preservation. But I’ve never run across any evidence that it was used for that more mundane purpose. Everyone, rich and poor, tended to preserve food by smoking, salting, drying or pickling it. Only the wealthy had access to ice, and they seemed to use it to show off, to enjoy luxuries unable to common folk. Is it possible they did not realize that they could keep food fresher longer with ice? That seems unlikely, given that they must surely have noticed that meat and cream keep better in winter than in summer.

In any case, this is an area I’d like to explore more, so I’m going to start looking closely for references to chilled beverages, desserts and other things involving the use of ice. I’d also like to find out more about where the ice came from. Plantation homes in the deep south had ice brought down by ship from New England. But here in Maryland, we might have had enough of our own native ice that it could just be cut from a local pond.

Incidentally, to keep the ice cream season lasting through the summer, the ice house apparently had to be packed with ice, not snow. George Washington wrote to a friend complaining that the snow he packed in his ice house at Mt. Vernon had melted too soon. He blamed the design of his ice house and asked for building instructions for a different type. But the friend, Robert Morris of Philadelphia, said that the problem was not the structure but the snow itself. “”I tried snow one year and lost it by June,” he wrote. “The ice keeps until October or November.”*

But you know, I’m not so sure the ice house wasn’t to blame after all. Maybe it wasn’t deep enough. I think the next time I go to Mt. Vernon, I’ll have to try dropping a rock in the ice house to see if I can hear it land.

Of course, first I’ll have make sure it doesn’t look like a potato.

Until next time…
–K

* Quote taken from “The Papers of George Washington” http://gwpapers.virginia.edu/articles/news/icehouse.html