Mosquito frets and legends

ImageSomewhere, I read (at the Cleveland Natural History Museum? the Great Lakes Science Center?) that the mouth of the Cuyahoga River was a swampy, mosquito-ridden land when Moses Cleaveland first surveyed the lots for Cleveland in 1796. When it comes to that, it still is. Enter any Cleveland woods mid-summer and the mosquito whine is sure to drive you back out.

How did 19th century denizens of Cleveland cope with mosquitoes? Window screens did not come into use until after the Civil War. Research tells me they did have mosquito nets. I also found an 1862 reference to “head-bags made of crape.” Another source mentioned a practice of wrapping one’s hands in green baize–the fabric that covered billiard tables.

A search through 19th century newspapers elicited the following:

9/8/1858 – Newark Advocate

Where Mosquitoes Come From

These pests of summer proceed from the animalculas commonly called ‘wiggle tails.’ … If a bowl of water be placed in the summer’s sun for a few days, a number of ‘wiggle tails’ will be visible, and they will increase in size till they reach three-sixteenths of an inch in length,–remaining longer at the surface as they approach maturity. … In a short time a fly will be hatched and escape leaving its tiny house upon the surface of the water. … In fact, standing by a shallow, half-stagnant pool on a midsummers day, the full development of any number of ‘wiggle tails’ to the mosquito state can be witnessed, and the origin of these disturbers of night’s slumbers thus fully ascertained. — Scientific American

8/8/1870 Daily Cleveland Herald

Sparrows and Mosquitoes

… Four years ago, 20 pairs [of English sparrows] were imported [into New York City], and provision was made for their accommodation. Now it is estimated that there are five thousand pair in the New York parks and gardens; and their active and industrious habits are believed to have materially diminished the swarms of mosquitoes which have heretofore made New York a byword and a hissing among all light sleepers who have sensitive skins. This theory is stengthened (sic) by the fact that the same experience has marked the introduction of sparrows into Jersey City–the mosquitoes having greatly diminished there even, which is mosquito land itself. If there is anything to this … then we [of Boston] go for importing one thousand, or five thousand pair at once, to be domesticated in Boston and immediate neighborhood, as a matter of more importance to the peace and comfort of our citizens than would be the addition of a hundred extra policemen. — Boston Traveler

9/3/1881 Cleveland Herald

A 15c box of ‘Rough on Rats’ will keep a house free from flies, mosquitoes, rats and mice the entire season. — Druggists

Finally, I found a reprint of this legend in the 9/7/1872 Cleveland Morning Daily Herald:

Origin of Mosquitoes

We take the following legend from the Minneapolis Tribune:

The Red River Indians have a legend respecting the origin of mosquitoes. They say that once upon a time there was a famine, and the Indians could get no game. Hundreds had died from hunger, and desolation filled their country. All kinds of offerings were made to the Great Spirit without avail, till one day two hunters came upon a white wolverine, a very rare animal. Upon shooting the white wolverine, an old woman sprang out of the skin, and saying that she was a “Manito,” promised to go and live with the Indians, promising them plenty of game as long as they treated her well and gave her the first choice of all the game that should be brought in.

The two Indians assented to this and took the old woman home with them–which event was immediately succeeded by an abundance of game. When the sharpness of the famine had passed the Indians became dainty in their appetites, and complained of the manner in which the old woman took to herself all the choice bits; and this feeling became so intense that, notwithstanding her warnings that if they violated their promises a terrible calamity would come upon the Indians, they one day killed her as she seized upon her share of a fat reindeer which the hunters had brought in.

Great consternation immediately struck the witnesses of the deed, and the Indians, to escape the predicted calamity, boldly struck their tents and moved away to a great distance.

Time passed on without any catastrophe occurring, and game becoming even more plentiful, the Indians again began to laugh at their being deceived by the old woman. Finally, a hunting party on a long chase of reindeer, which had led them back to the spot where the old woman was killed, came upon her skeleton, and one of them, in derision, kicked the skull with his foot. In an instant a small, spiral-like body arose from the eyes and ears of the skull, which proved to be insects. They attacked the hunters with great fury and drove them to the river for protection. The skull continued to pour out its little stream, and the air became full of avengers of the old woman’s death. The hunters, upon returning to camp, found all the Indians suffering terribly from the plague, and ever since that time the red men have been punished by the mosquitoes for their wickedness to their preserver, the Manito.

Blacksmith axes and the tomahawk

Because I’m researching and writing about early American blacksmithing methods, people are always telling me: “You must go to Colonial Williamsburg.” And they’re right–it is an amazing place. But not the only one.

Here’s another place I must go: Prickett’s Fort in West Virginia. Housed in a fort built in 1774, “Prickett’s Fort State Park uses a living history style of interpretation to preserve, document and exhibit the past.”

I happened upon it while searching around for more details about blacksmithing apprenticeships. Here’s a guide published by Prickett’s Fort: Blacksmithing of the 18th Century. In it, I found useful info about apprenticeships, and, as is usually the case on these research forays, something more.

The blacksmith in the 18th century could make or repair just about anything of that time, but probably his greatest accomplishment was what is known as the American Ax. Sometime around 1700, the blacksmith added a square poll on the back of the ax, which added more weight. Then by the mid-1700s, the ears were added to the eye, the square poll was elongated, and the eye was changed from round to a triangle shape. All of this added to the stability in the swing of the ax and it has seen very little change in the last 225 years.

Another important invention, that took place in the 1740s -1750s, was the pipe tomahawk. These were highly prized by the Native Americans, for they loved to smoke and make war on the settlers. The Native Americans already had the tomahawk, beginning with the first encounters with Europeans. This version added a pipe bowl and hollowed out the handle to create one of the biggest trade items used by Native Americans as well as white settlers. These were produced until well after the Civil War.

Okay, I admit the language of the guide where it says Native Americans “loved to make war” is suspect, but putting that aside, I was intrigued. On further research, the existence of the pipe tomahawk is pretty widely known; more ornate versions are still made today. May the adventures of history research never end.

Outdated? expressions

“Where do you get all these weird expressions?” my daughter once asked me.

“What do you mean?”

“Some of the stuff you say. When I say it, my friends have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“Give me a for instance?”

“Like ‘Podunk.’ Where does that word come from?”

She got me wondering. I looked it up and found its (speculative) origins fascinating. Go ahead and check it out for yourself here: Podunk

My search also turned up something more: “Slang of the American Civil War.”

In this list, I recognized a number of phrases I still say. Expressions used 150 years ago, during the Civil War. When I think about it, most of them came from my mother, whose ancestors hailed from western Pennsylvania. At moments like these, the era of Civil War feels like the not-so-distant past. Here are just a few expressions I still use.

Time to bite the bullet.
Enough of these carryings-on.
I finagled my way in.
He was fit to be tied.
We’ll get there by hook or by crook.
If I had my druthers.
What a rigamarole!

Finally, have you ever wondered about the phrase: I heard it through the grapevine? It turns out “grapevines” were telegraph wires. By Jiminy!

Falling prey to fictional realities

I am knee-deep (p. 150) in the process of revising my novel in progress. I enjoy the revision process more than writing a first draft. It’s a chance to understand themes and cull them out, to get a “big picture” view. Also, to catch times when I may have painted a scene too sentimentally. I think of these moments as a “fictional reality,” the most realistic world I’ve been able to cobble together based on research, but where I must still dig deeper to find the truth.

At the moment I’m revising the chapter where my great-great-grandfather’s packet ship Helvetia arrives in New York harbor. The year was 1857. In the National Archives and Records Administration, as I scrolled through microfilm searching for a ship manifest with Michael Harm’s name in the first half of 1857, I encountered hundreds of lists. Three or four immigrant ships might arrive at Castle Garden in one day, from Liverpool, Hamburg, and other European ports. Diary accounts of the time note how ships hailed one another in the north Atlantic sea lanes and kept track of the sightings. As I pictured New York harbor, clotted with barges, steamships, schooners, and immigrant packets, I wondered — would any of these ships be carrying African slaves? It was pre-Civil War after all.

A search for 1857 slave ships, turned up an official reality stating that the importation of slaves into the U.S. was outlawed in 1808. According to an article in Wikipedia, the last documented slave ship to arrive was The Wanderer, in November of 1858. Hmm. A fictional reality? It seems it was hotly disputed, the article elaborates, as to whether or not undocumented slave ships were continuing to reach American shores after that year. Either way, it was The Wanderer, with its 409 slaves, that received all the attention:

The slaves who arrived to the United States on the Wanderer gained a celebrity status, that spread beyond the south to newspapers in New York, Washington, and London. They were the only group of slaves who were frequently identified with the ship which they arrived on.

Here is another discovery, a link to an 1857 interview with a Captain James Smith, who describes New York’s South Street as being “the chief port in the world for the Slave Trade.” The interview continues:

My vessel was the brig ‘Julia Moulton.’ I got her in
Boston, and brought her here, and sailed from this port direct for the coast of Africa.
But do you mean to say that this business is going on now?
Yes. Not so many vessels have been sent out this year, perhaps not over twenty-five. But last year there were thirty-five. I can go down to South Street, and go into a number of houses that help fit out ships for the business. I don’t know how far they own the vessels, or receive the profits of the cargoes.
But these houses know all about it.

1857 was also the year of the Dred Scott decision, which denied citizenship to all slaves, ex-slaves, and descendants of slaves and denied Congress the right to prohibit slavery in the territories. According to this PBS Timeline, the last slave ship to bring slaves into the U.S. landed in Mobile Bay, Alabama in 1859. I’m thinking there were probably others.

Mythic Palatines in America

I did not realize this book was so rare. My relative Angela gave a copy to me–Pfälzer in Amerika (Palatines in America) by Roland Paul and Karl Scherer–to help in my thesis research. Searching out a link to it for this blog, I notice it sells for a high price. I can see why.

It’s not such a big volume, but it’s packed with cross-cultural historical info. Published in 1995 by the Institute of Palatine History and Folklife, it offers articles about 18th and 19th century immigration to America from the Palatine region. Most of the text has English translations. Included are  maps and explorations of the “waves” of immigration and their causes, bios of notable personalities, and letters written by immigrants to America (only in German).

I find the bios especially intriguing. I had not realized that Thomas Nast (b. 1840), “cartoonist, moralist, and ‘president-maker'” was a contemporary of Michael Harm (b. 1841).

When in Germany, I visited Villa Ludwigshöhe above Edenkoben, and walked through that town, but missed the part of Edenkoben with the Johann Adam Hartmann fountain. Born in Edenkoben, Johann Adam Hartmann emigrated in 1764 to America, finishing his days in Herkimer, NY. A neighbor of James Fenimore Cooper, many claim the main character of Cooper’s most famous series (Last of the Mohicans, The Deerslayer, The Pioneers, etc.) is in part based on Hartmann. Pfälzer in Amerika states:

[After arrival in America in 1764], Hartmann became a woodsman and hunter on the Indian frontier. When the War of Independence began in 1775, he had already had ten years of hunting and fighting experience which he now put to use. In particular, he is said to have been instrumental in winning the Oriskany battle against the British troops and their Indian allies in the Mohawk Valley on 6 August 1777.

A memorial plaque has also been installed in the village. “In Edenkoben and elsewhere, it is firmly believed that next to Daniel Boone, the man from Edenkoben formed the most important model for J. F. Cooper’s character, Leatherstocking.”

Pictures of other days

A couple of weekends ago, I had the opportunity to attend the Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP) Conference in Chicago . I picked up so many literary journals at the book fair I had to make a trip to the post office to mail them before flying home. On my return to the hotel, I passed the Art Institute of Chicago and made a mental note to return.

Why? Because I love art. But also for historical research. Photography did not appear until the mid-19th century, and then, only in its crudest forms. Painters of the 19th century, with the advent of realists like Millet and Courbet, focused on capturing real people in real life settings. Above is a painting in the Art Institute by William Sidney Mount called “Walking the Line.” Painted in 1835, during the era of the Andrew Jackson presidency, it depicts clothing and entertainment of the time, as well as the antebellum racial divide. (Classroom guides and resources related to this painting and others by Mount can be ordered from the Art Institute of Chicago here.)

And check out this painting called “Lights of Other Days.” A still life of snuffed out lanterns? What is John F. Peto trying to tell us with this artwork about the second half of the 19th century? By 1906, the light bulb was all the rage, but here one gets a forlorn sense of old ways being left behind.

Below is the painting that most captured my imagination, which I post here for Angela, who has helped me so often and so long with research and translations for Harm’s Way. “The Ghost Dance” was painted by Ralph Blakelock in 1895, five years after the Sioux massacre of 1890 at Wounded Knee. Simon Kawitzky has written an entire thesis on the subject. He writes: “.. in The Ghost Dance, Blakelock distinctly melds the ether of the dancing spirits into the matter of the forest as they disappear into oblivion and are lost forever.”

Cleveland and its Germans: 1897-1898

At the Western Reserve Historical Society in Cleveland I picked up a book with bios on many early German-American residents of Cleveland. The original was in German, written by Jacob Mueller, and this translation is by Steven Rowan.
The book begins with a quote by Goethe:

America, you have it better
Than our continent, the old,
You have no fallen castles
And no basalt.

The old master Goethe, when he directed the verses above to the United States in his “Delicate Zenias,” could add, “And you do not have great cities with their bustling life and striving, with their splendor and misery, with smoking chimneys and unhealthy tenements.” Much has changed in the meantime. Today, to be sure, one may still look in vain in America for picturesque castle ruins such as decorate the banks of the Rhine, but it is certainly possible to find decayed, ruined cities whose founders and inhabitants once believed their new settlements would be numbered among the most populous in the land in a few decades. On the other hand, there are little places whose names were barely known by any European, at least in the year Goethe wrote that verse (1827), that have grown to great cities. One of these is Cleveland, the Forest City.

The following is a list of people whose biographies were written up in Cleveland and Its Germans: 1897-1898:
Franz Adler
John Aenis
Rud. von Ahlefeld
Hermann Anhäusser
Daniel Appel
Georg F. Arnold
Friedrich Axel
Michael Baackes
Wm. Backus Sr.
Gustav A. Balzer
Benjamin R. Beavis
W. H. Beavis
Jakob Beckenbach
Fred Beilstein
Edward Belz
Joseph Beltz
Wilhelm Beutel
Emil Bierfreund
Jacob A. Blodt
Ed. H. Bohm
Heinrich Born
H. Brockhausen
Frank Büttner
Stephen Buhrer
Karl Burkart
Carl Claussen
Karl J. Cobelli
Georg J. Dahler
Leopold Dautel
Hans Demuth
W. Dertinger
Wm. Dewald
J. S. Dickle
F. H. Dietz
Friedrich Dietz
Kilian Egert
Ferdinand H. Eggers
Leopold Einstein
Adalbert Ernst
John J. Ernst
Franz V. Faulhaber
Jon Feihl
R. H. Fetterman
W. F. Fiedler
O. H. Franke
Christ. Frese
Albert Friedl
John Friedl
Godfrey Fugman
Philip Gänsslen
Albert Gehring
Carl Ernst Gehring
F. W. Gehring
John A. Gehring
Christ. Geiger
Georg Gernhard
John Götz
Amalia L. Groll
Georg C. Groll
John C. Groll
Georg F. Gund
M. Hablützel
Joseph Hackman
Hermann Hamm
Louis Harms
G. L. Hechler
G. Heidenreich
Chas. Heiser
Chas. Herrman
Ed Hessenmüller
Dr. Rudolph Heym
Simon Hickler
C. R. Hildebrandt
Jacob Hiller
Martin Hipp
Jacob Hirt
Joseph L. Hitz
Heinrich Hoehn
W. F. Hoppensack
Bishop Ignatius Horstmann
C. F. Hunger
Friedrich Jampen
David Jankau
Chas. L. Jaster
John Jaster
Nikolaus Jung
Herman Junge
Ernst Kappler
Gustav A. Kärcher
August Kimmel
John Koch
Chas. Koebler
Joseph Krug
Georg Kühn
Theodor Kundtz
Julius Kurzer
Rudolph Lack
Franz C. La Marche
Georg Lambert
H. G. Lambert
John B. Lang
Joseph Lang
Dr. George F. Leick
Isaac Leisy
Otto Leisy
Johann Lendy
Robert Lenz
Rev. Theophil Leonhardt
Henry Leopold
Jul. H. Leppert
Moritz Liebich
August Loew
Carl Lorenz
H. W. Luetkemeyer
Chas. W. Maedje
Christian Maedje
Wm. E. Maedje
F. W. Maier
Jackob Mall
R. B. Martinetz
Friedrich Mattmueller
Adolph Mayer
Edward S. Meyer
Dr. Edward S. Meyer Jr.
Franz Joseph Meyer
John C. Meyer
Dr. Wm. Meyer
Karl Michel
Charles Miller (of Holzhausen)
Chas. Miller (of Baltimore)
John Miller
Conrad Mizer
Arnold Moser
Antoinette Muhlhauser
F. Muhlhauser
C.A. Müller
Gottlieb Müller
Jacob Müller
Jacob G. Mueller
Johann Müller (of Weinigen)
Johann Müller (of Königheim)
C. A. Muerman
Georg V. Muth
Wm Neracher
Franz Neubauer
Felix Nicola
J. H. Niemann
W. Noville
Isidor Nunn
John J. Nunn
Ed. M. Oerl
John Olderman
Robert Opitz
Albert Petzke
Otto Petzke
August Pfaff
Rev. Nicolaus Pfeil
John Piper
John L. Piper
Leonhard Platt
F. Rannacher
John Reich
Daniel Remelius
Friedrich Ries
Emil Ring
Rev. J. H. C. Röntgen
Dr. W. L. Rosenberg
H. G. Rudolph
Herm. Jul. Rütenik
Chas. Sältzer
Johann Schaber
Philip Schäffer
Bernhard Schatzinger
A. B. Schellentraeger
C. C. Schellenträger
E. A. Schellenträger
Dr. J. D. Schenk
Adolph Schildhauer
John Schlitz
F. von Schluembach
F. W. Schmidt
Friedrich Heinrich Schmidt
Johann Schneider
Philip Schreiber
Fred P. Schröder
John Schröder
Christ. Schüpbach
Dr. H. C. Schwan
F. C. Seelbach
Louis Seelbach
Henry g. Slatmyer
George B. Solders
Georg J. Sommer
Jacob Stein
Rev. J. H. Steppler
Gustav Stern
John Stofft
Gottlieb Strasser
August Thieme
Rev. C. A. Thomas
B. Villwock
Chas. W. Voth
H. B. Votteler
Jacob Wageman
John Wagner
John C. Wagner
Fritz Walter
Dr. Gustav C. E. Weber
John c. Weideman
G. A. Weitz
Henry Welf
Joseph Welf
Albert Weske
Rev. Franziscus Westerholt
Friedrich Wick
Carl L. F. Wieber
Jacob B. Wieber
John Wilhelm
Lorenz F. Wilhelm
Hermann Woldmann
Dr. S. Wolfenstein
Wm. Woltman
Philip Jacob Würtz
John A. Zängerle
Dr. Karl Zapp
Jacob Züllig
August Zwierlein

Electric Edison

Thomas Alva Edison built his winter estate in Ft. Myers, Florida in the 1880s, before the train even came to the region. His house was built with pre-cut timber shipped from Maine, delivered to this pier on the Caloosahatchee River.

The Edison and Ford Winter Estates are a window in time, with inventions and living spaces dating back to the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The light bulb, the phonograph, the motion picture and the storage battery are only a few of Edison’s inventions. In the museum, I was taken with this interpretive sign:

Edison and the Storage Battery
1872 to 1931
When he applied for his first storage battery patent in 1872, Edison believed travel by horse was doomed. An electric car would soon serve the nation’s transportation needs. Thus, he sought to perfect a storage battery to propel such a vehicle.

Two decades later, Edison’s vision of the future began to emerge. Steam and electric vehicles first appeared on the scene in the 1890s (the internal combustion, gasoline-powered engine would not enter the fray of the automotive era until the 20th century). Another display in the Edison & Ford Winter Estates Museum reads as follows:

Advantages of Motor over Horse Vehicles
I. ECONOMY
(a) OF MONEY
1. Cheap upkeep.
2. Consumes nothing while idle.
3. Requires less stable room, permitting smaller housing.
4. Requires fewer men to care for, or groom.
5. Longer life.
6. In light small package delivery it does the work of two or more wagons, reducing force of men to deliver same, because it carries more load and goes twice faster than a horse.
(b) OF TIME
1. Delivers in much quicker time than a horse.
2. Return trip to distributing centre at high speed.
3. Can work unlimited portion of day.
4. Requires no days of rest.
5. Easily handled in congested traffic, at good speeds.
6. As garages are permitted where stables would not be, it permits more convenient and nearer stabling, nearer to distribution centre.
7. Develops power despite weather and road conditions.
8. Can be worked overtime for holiday trade.
(c) OF SPACE
1. In stable.
2. In street.
3. In loading space at warehouse, permitting mroe wagons to load at same time.

II. OTHER ADVANTAGES
(a) INTENSIVE
1. Fewer wagons, on account of higher speed, will do work.
2. Fewer men will take care of same delivery unit.
3. Consumes only when in actual service.
(b) EXTENSIVE
1. Permits larger radius of delivery, meaning possible extension of free delivery limits, yet at low cost.

III. AND SOME GOOD REASONS
1. Motor transportation would go far to solve traction and congestion traffic problems for everybody.
2. Less damage to roads.
3. Dirt, dust and manure would disappear.
4. Permits the accurate and easy determination of costs.

At the museum as I ogled this display, a gentleman beside me chuckled. “Aha, I too see the advantages. No more horse apples.”

Leafing through old books

When my father downsized from his house into a retirement center, he sent my brother and me a list of books, and from afar, we chose which ones we wanted.

Years have passed, and I hardly remember what I picked out, except that I had an eye for old books. The other day I came across an especially old one, dated 1867. I know it came from my childhood home due to the bright orange bookmark tucked inside, Dad’s code for “Claire.”

Old books can be like treasure hunts. In The Psalms of David In Metre I was captivated by the subtitle: With Annotations explaining the Sense, and Animating the Devotion, By John Brown, late minister of the Gospel at Haddington. This John Brown was an Anglican minister who lived from 1722 to 1787. It turns out he was a self-made man, a shepherd in Scotland who taught himself to read Greek, Latin and Hebrew. In the songbook in my possession, each Psalm of David begins with Brown’s notes about content and meaning.

But there’s more. Tucked in the pages was also a postcard from 1911 advertising the celebration of the 100th anniversary of the First Presbyterian Church of Cleveland, founded in 1811.








In the heat of a big move, or at the end of a parent’s life, we might find ourselves in a hurry to get things squared away, to shuttle boxes off to the donation center without a second glance, oblivious to the treasures inside. Moral of the story: leaf through those books, including the ones you hang onto. You just never can tell what you’ll find inside.

Carriage history collaboration: An Interview with Thomas A. Kinney

I first learned of Thomas A. Kinney‘s research on horse-drawn carriages when roaming around the The Encyclopedia of Cleveland History. In the section on the Wagon and Carriage Industry, I discovered a fascinating write-up about the prevalence of German carriage-makers in Cleveland, Ohio in the 19th century. Dr. Kinney had written the article. The information supported what I was learning from the letters of my ancestor, Michael Harm, once a carriage-maker in Cleveland, and so I emailed Dr. Kinney to share with him my photos of Harm & Schuster Carriages. We have been in correspondence ever since. Recently, Thomas A. Kinney spoke at the International Carriage Symposium in Williamsburg, VA.

INTERVIEW WITH THOMAS A. KINNEY

Thomas A. Kinney is Associate Professor of History at Bluefield College in Virginia and author of The Carriage Trade: Making Horse-Drawn Vehicles in America (Johns Hopkins University Press). He earned a B.A. in History from the University of Maine, then went on to Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland to earn his M.A. and Ph.D., also in history.

How did you first become interested in the wagon and carriage industry?

My research specialty was the history of technology. I came from Maine, a state with deep roots in the timber industry, and from a family with some involvement in that as well as in woodworking. I wanted to research something to do with logging, the woodworking trades—something like that. Acting on a chance conversation with a fellow graduate student, I began investigating wagon and carriage making. This was a woodworking trade, which like most crafts, underwent the process of industrialization. I became interested in the craft-to-industry transition, and it appeared horse-drawn vehicle manufacture would be a good candidate for such a study. I wasn’t disappointed.

No doubt you found a whole lot more than you bargained for. The Carriage Trade does such a great job of exploring more than woodworking: blacksmithing, painting, trimming, the growth of the industry on the eastern seaboard and in the midwest. But you started with Cleveland?

Yes, my dissertation “From Shop to Factory in the Industrial Heartland” looks at the industrialization of wagon and carriage manufacture in Cleveland. I focused on Cleveland partly because that was where I was living, but also because it was an iconic Midwestern industrial city—-one I hoped would have sufficient sources for my study. The end result, my dissertation, explained how the craft of wagon and carriage making became a full-fledged industry there.

The thesis was not published in book form, but my research attracted the attention of Johns Hopkins University Press. On the basis of their interest, I ended up taking my dissertation’s interpretive structure and expanding the focus to include the entire United States—-in other words, several more years of research, in this case in Washington D.C. and New York. Johns Hopkins University Press published The Carriage Trade: Making Horse-Drawn Vehicles in America in 2004.

And you had a best seller on your hands …

Well, that would have been nice, but that usually doesn’t happen with research monographs. It was well-received–co-winner of the 2005 Hagley Prize in Business History, and I’ve received numerous compliments from readers and fellow historians since then. Most books on wagons and carriages concentrate on the vehicles themselves, an artifact-based focus. The Carriage Trade is the first to focus exclusively on how they were actually built, a manufacturing-based focus. I think this fills some significant gaps in our knowledge of horse-drawn vehicles, but also in our understanding of nineteenth-century crafts and industry. So I’m pleased with it.

It filled in significant gaps in my knowledge. I was delighted to come across it in my research about my great-great-grandfather. Now, about the Third International Carriage Symposium, held at Colonial Williamsburg last month. What is this, and how did it get started?

The Carriage Association of America (CAA) is an organization of horse-drawn vehicle enthusiasts—-people who collect, restore, and drive wagons and carriages. Established in 1960, the association has sponsored driving events, competitions, tours of public and private collections, in addition to publishing an informative illustrated journal. They’ve always had an historical focus, but in 2008 they decided to try hosting a scholarly symposium where professional historians and museum curators could share new research on horse-drawn vehicles. Working in conjunction with the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, they held the first such event in 2008 at Colonial Williamsburg. They even started a journal, “World on Wheels,” to publish the papers. It’s become a well-attended event, held ever other year.

Who attends? Scholars? The general public?

The Carriage Symposium is a venue for scholarly research, and while some like myself are professional historians teaching at colleges and universities, others are museum curators, vehicle restorers, preservationists, and the like. But it is also open to the general public, whoever has an interest.

Colonial Williamsburg is an important contributor in a number of ways, not least of which are staff members who present on eighteenth-century carriages and related subjects. The CAA aims for an even mix of American and European presenters, the latter including historians and curators but also those in charge of horse-drawn vehicles owned by various royal families. The latter have fascinating hands-on experience with working vehicles in addition to a deep knowledge of carriage history. So the presenters come from a wide background, the common denominator being serious research on the history of horse-drawn vehicles.

There are also “horse people” who participate in competitive equine events, horse-drawn vehicle collectors both casual and advanced, and just ordinary individuals with an interest in historic transportation, horses, farm wagons-—that sort of thing. It’s a really worthwhile experience: first-class researchers from around the world, an engaging assortment of attendees, a marvelous conference setting, and the opportunity to not only see Colonial Williamsburg but also to take a behind-the-scenes looks at that vast operation.

And you spoke at this year’s Carriage Symposium, drawing from your research on commercial carriages? Business wagons and such?

Yes, I had the privilege to be invited to speak. I say privilege because it’s such a delight to speak to large audiences of people who are really interested in your work, and because both the Carriage Association and Colonial Williamsburg are such generous hosts. I spoke on horse-drawn commercial vehicles, focusing on their increasingly forgotten role in American cities. “Looking Back at Horse-Drawn Commercial Vehicles” draws heavily on my Cleveland research, both old and more recent, and I was pleased to include newly-identified photographs from the Smithsonian Institution as well as images from private collections. The Carriage Association will be publishing the conference papers as well as a summary of the event in their journal, but they’ve meanwhile posted some photographs on their blog.

I understand my great-great-grandfather made an appearance.

That’s right! One of the pleasures of publication is the unexpected letters one receives from readers who have something to share. I can’t say enough how thrilled I was to hear from you, a descendant of one of those Cleveland carriage makers I researched in graduate school. In the course of that project I studied more than a hundred small firms, and it’s funny, but the names still rattle around in my head: Jacob Hoffman, Kredo & Ott, J. J. Eberle, Schoonard & Dulin, Gustav Schaefer, Griese & Deuble, Jacob Lowman, Stoll & Black—-a veritable lexicon of European names. So when you said “Harm & Schuster,” not only did I recognize it, I knew I had a file on it—-just like I do on dozens and dozens just like them. But while I had information from the trade literature, the only visuals I’d managed to locate were fire insurance maps. To see photographs of the outside of the shop and of the men who worked therein—-well, that’s just priceless. Like putting a face to a name you’ve known for a long, long time. Since Michael Harm made commercial vehicles as well as passenger carriages, I used two of those images in my presentation: one of the workmen and proprietors holding representative tools of their trade, the other showing the shop hands around an express wagon. It looks like they’ve just finished resetting the tires and are about to remount the wheels. Great stuff, and a perfect example of the things that can happen when collectors and ordinary people share their resources with scholars. I spent years combing libraries and archives for material on the Cleveland trade, but I never found anything quite like what you shared with me.

Nice to hear. So what’s next? Are you working on another book?

I’ve been accumulating material on the Brewster companies for several years. In fact, at the first Carriage Symposium in 2008, my presentation was “Beyond the Builder’s Plate,” a look at Brewster carriages from a manufacturing standpoint. Carriages built by a couple of different firms of that name were some of the leading luxury brands in the trade, and they retain an avid collector interest today. I’m in the process of researching them for a second book. However, in order to write that I need to get back to New York to finish researching some important sources there. It’s a matter of obtaining grant money and such.

In the meanwhile, I continue to write on related subjects. I’ve just completed an article on the history of ready-made paint; that contains some information about the wagon and carriage industry as well.

Well then, you’ll want to hear about my grandfather, who worked at Sherwin Williams in Cleveland for fifty years — haha. Seriously, thank you for taking the time for this interview.

You’re most welcome. Thank you for taking an interest in my work and for sharing your rich family history. I think we all benefit from such collaboration.