Category Archives: General

Musings and storytelling

19th century stereotype?

I’ll admit when I began looking into the 19th century, I had preconceived stereotypes–high-collared, long-sleeved, Victorian era prudes, bombastic orators,  a stalwart naïveté about religion, medicine, America, etc., and in general, a less frenetic pace of life. Frequently, however, my 21st century superiority has been caught up short. When the Englishwoman Isabella Bird visited Canada and the States in 1854, she made the following observations, which strike me as eerily insightful about us today:

“While we admire and wonder at the vast material progress of Western Canada and the North-western States of the Union [Ohio, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky], considerations fraught with alarm will force themselves upon us. We think that great progress is being made in England, but, without having travelled in America, it is scarcely possible to believe what the Anglo-Saxon race is performing upon a new soil. In America we do not meet with factory operatives, seamstresses, or clerks overworked and underpaid, toiling their lives away in order to keep body and soul together, but we have people of all classes who could obtain competence and often affluence by moderate exertions, working harder than slaves–sacrificing home enjoyments, pleasure, and health itself to the one desire of the acquisition of wealth. Daring speculations fail; the struggle in unnatural competition with men of large capital, or dishonourable dealings, wears out at last the overtasked frame–life is spent in a whirl–death summons them, and finds them unprepared. Everybody who has any settled business is overworked. Voices of men crying for relaxation are heard from every quarter, yet none dare to pause in this race which they so madly run, in which happiness and mental and bodily health are among the least of their considerations. All are spurred on by the real or imaginary necessities of their position, driven along their headlong course by avarice, ambition, or eager competition.” (p.222, My First Travels in North America)

I envy Bird her rigorous meanderings, which included a visit to Niagara Falls, an experience she describes in great, harrowing detail. At age eighteen, according to the Introduction ot First Travels, she had a spinal tumor surgically removed, an operation that was only partly successful, “so her young adulthood was punctuated by long periods in which she would have to spend entire mornings in a semi-recumbent position. Perhaps her doctor realized that many of her physical and emotional problems stemmed from an extraordinary intelligence and a strong personality at odds with a stultifying social enviornment; in any event, he prescribed an extended ocean voyage. In 1854 Isabella’s father gave her £100 and permission to travel as long as the money lasted. She chose to travel to North America and made it last for almost six months.”

The book jacket claims she was “a woman ahead of her time.” Perhaps. Or is this another stereotype to be rethought? To my mind, the countless thousands–many of them women–who emigrated from Europe, leaving hearth and home for places and lives unknown, speak otherwise.

How did we live?

“How did we live without cell phones?”

Recently, I’ve heard this question a lot, regarding the Hurricane Sandy disaster in New York City, managing schedules and whatnot. The question reminds me of when I was a child, listening with awe to my grandmother recite all the things that had not been invented when she was little: automobiles, airplanes, TVs. She seemed hyper-aware of the passage of time, all the changes she had witnessed over her long life (she died in 1987, at age 96).

After her death we uncovered a family scrapbook dating back to the 1800’s rife with German newsclippings I might one day manage to decipher. Pasted to one page was the following clipping. The year is not noted–I’m guessing it was circa 1950.

Blacksmiths and mythology

I just spent four days in a kind of crucible, an excellent “Story Masters” writing workshop with Donald Maass, James Scott Bell, and Christopher Vogler. Vogler, author of the well-known The Writer’s Journey, led off the sessions by talking about myth, how myths are metaphors for universal mysteries.

Which got me thinking again about blacksmiths in mythology, a subject I had not visited since first launching this project. Back in the beginning, when trying to figure out the psyche of a blacksmith, I had looked into the Greek myth of the lame smith Hephaestus (Vulcan), who on Zeus’ orders created the beautiful, yet fateful, goddess Pandora. Zeus, his father, made him do it. In The Illustrated Book of Myths (Philip) I made a note about this additional story:

Zeus and Hephaestus: to cure Zeus of a terrible headache, his son, Hephaestus, struck him with an ax; Athena sprang, in full armor, from the cut in his head.

Ouch. Reminds me of the god Thor with his hefty hammer, how in one of the Norse myths Thor kept pounding it in the head of a sleeping giant. Today, I did some more exploring, which led me to this website: PANTHEON: ARCHETYPAL GODFORMS IN DAILY LIFE. Wow, a thesis and a half. I give you two excerpts:

Hephaistos, God of the Forge, is the personification of subterranean and terrestrial fire, including human lustiness. … His dominion over primal fire ranges from the wild force of volcanic activity to the harnessed fire of metallurgy. He is the archetypal mechanic or engineer. Technological man has inherited his legacy, and his woundedness, and in this regard Hephaestos shares something in common with Prometheus who stole “fire” from the Gods. The boon carries a bane inherent within its nature — for one thing, he is preoccupied, even obsessed, with details. We see this today in the obsessive loner techno-geek type.

I love how Miller concludes with the loner techno-geek. Below a whole lot of Tarot, Qabala, astrology, and Jungian thought, she lists additional 21st century professions that contain archetypal blacksmith characteristics.

I also happened upon a wealth of good blacksmith storytelling (for instance, The Blacksmith and the Devil) at Anvilfire! Enjoy.

The Rheinpfalz ladder wagon

A couple of years ago on the way to the Bewartstein Castle (near Erlenbach in the southern Palatinate forest), my cousin and guide Matthias got excited at the sight of this wagon sitting in a meadow by the side of the road.

“Oh look, it’s an old Leiterwagen,” he said, careening the Opel over to the shoulder. “I want you to see it. It was once very common in our region. The design is very clever– it can be used as one wagon with four wheels, or pulled apart into two separate drays. When it wasn’t in use, they would collapse it for easy storage.”

This Leiterwagen appears to be from the 19th century. Note the iron tires, iron fittings and chains, no doubt pounded into place by the village blacksmith. These wagons could haul hay or timber. With boards fitted over the side ladders, they hauled manure to the fields. This one is more elaborate for its covered top — most were left open to the air. The sleekness of the design was important for fitting the wagons down narrow village streets.

and grape rows.

At my relatives’ house in Freinsheim, they still keep their Leiterwagen, mainly as ornamentation.

In the New World, economy of space was not so important, so ladder wagons did not come into vogue. It seems the heavy-duty drays, Prairie Schooners, even the massive Conestogas (precursors to semi-trucks) were the wagons of choice.  At the Colonial Williamsburg web site, I came across this slide show about early American wagons.

A Civil War find

Who on earth? In a box of my aunt’s belongings, I found a copy of a one page letter written during the Civil War:

Chattanooga, Tennessee, jan. 1st, 1864

Dear Brother I take pen in hand to answer your letter witch come to hands on Christmas and I was glad indeed to here from someone and to here that you was all well I am well at present and I hope that these few lines ma find you all in the same state of health well Brother it will be three weaks nes Sunday since I rote home and I will tell you the reson why I did not rite ofner on the 18th of last month our Regt had to go out in frunt to gard a Bridge on the Chickamauga Creek and we did not take eny paper with ous and so we did not get to rite Enny a while we wose there and we wose not releaved until yesterday morning witch we … [end of letter]

P.S. I got the Huntingdon American News paper of dec 23rd I sane that tha is a Leatter in the paper Advertists fore Leather it is in the Huntingdon Post office

I have no idea “witch” ancestor wrote this letter, but I love it — the vernacular, the phonetic spellings. I have at least one Pennsylvania ancestor who worked for the Confederate Army, but this does not appear to be him. The Union Army suffered a bad defeat at West Chickamauga Creek in September of 1863, but by December 18, if the writer of the letter was guarding a bridge over Chickamauga Creek, he was doing so once the Union Army had regained that ground. Since the writer refers to Huntingdon, my guess is he probably came from that area, somewhere near Johnstown, PA, whence quite a few of my ancestors hail.

Election history: Lincoln and Obama

At our house, we’ve been losing sleep over the upcoming election. So much seems at stake. Education and health care and climate change. The people v. corporations. Supreme Court nominees.

Meanwhile in my writing life, I’m perpetually trawling the 19th century, fact-checking, conjuring three-dimensional imagery from dim historical records. On a recent revisit to the subject of Abraham Lincoln, some circumstances of the 16th president’s election and re-election campaigns reminded me of what we’re experiencing today with our 44th president:

–Lincoln was swept into office by a grass-roots uprising of the people, against the entrenched slavery of the Democratic Party–especially when it came to the issue of slavery in the territories and states then joining the Union. During a debate with Stephen Douglas, Lincoln put it thus: “[The issue of right and wrong] will continue in this country when these poor tongues of Judge Douglas and myself shall be silent. It is these two principles–right and wrong–throughout the world. They are the two principles that have stood face to face from the beginning of time, and will ever continue to struggle. The one is the common right of humanity, and the other the divine right of kings.” It seems to me, the “divine right of kings” is rearing its head once more in the concentration of wealth in the 2%, and in response, the Obama’s “Yes, we can” appeal to the people. Here’s a bit from Obama’s first election primary win “Yes We Can” speech: “We are looking for more than just a change of party in the White House. We’re looking to fundamentally change the status quo in Washington. It’s a status quo that extends beyond any particular party and right now that status quo is fighting back with everything it’s got, with the same old tactics that divide and distract us from solving the problems people face, whether those problems are health care that folks can’t afford or a mortgage they cannot pay. So this will not be easy. Make no mistake about what we’re up against. We’re up against the belief that it’s all right for lobbyists to dominate our government, that they are just part of the system in Washington.”

–For his first term of office, Lincoln inherited from President Buchanan a country in a world of hurt–many Southern states had seceded even before the Lincoln inauguration. Obama did not exactly inherit a Civil War from President Bush, but he did inherit wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, a recession, a major budget deficit, and a House and Senate divided.

–When it came time for re-election, in spite of Lincoln’s perseverance in the face of adversity, his party members did not have the same fervor and glee as the first time around. It had been a rough four years. In fact, they were nervous and worried, so worried some broke ranks, holding their own convention, nominating General Fremont instead of Lincoln (a position from which they later backed down). This time around for Obama, Democrats also seem less zealous, more nervous and apologetic. Where are all the bumper stickers and yard signs we saw during the first campaign?

On the other hand, a major difference between the Lincoln era and the Obama era has to do with the judicial branch of government. While in office, President Lincoln had the opportunity to appoint Salmon P. Chase, former Governor of Ohio and the Secretary of the Treasury, as the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. But the days of non-lawyers on the Supreme Court are long gone. At recent Seattle Arts and Lectures event, Jeffrey Toobin spoke about the Democratic/Republication balance on the Supreme Court. Toobin pointed out that the president of the next term in office will get to choose one, if not two, justices for the Supreme Court. Toobin said if Obama is the president, we might see the first Asian American justice on the Supreme Court. He also noted that Romney’s chief Supreme Court advisor is Robert Bork, an arch conservative who did not pass muster with Congress when Reagan named him to the Court in the 1980s.

As I said, we’re losing sleep over here. After all, I’m a nervous Democrat. In the interests of the people, and this bipartisan Union, Barack Obama has my vote.

“Like” Isabella Bird

“I am looking for books about women of courage in the 19th century,” I tell Roger Page of Island Books.

“Have you heard of Isabella Bird?” he asks.

I had not. Reading her book My First Travels in North America, I must agree that Isabella L. Bird (1831-1904) is a woman of courage and tenacity. On this first adventure of many, she traveled alone with little fear. She kept up her enthusiasm even after being nearly drowned in a storm on Lake Ontario–a wave swept her overboard, then another came along and swept her back onto the boat. And so on.

Her colorful descriptions are offered through the lens of a traveling Englishwoman who keeps her entertained wits about her. In the “Introduction,” Clarence C. Strowbridge phrases it thus: “Isabella’s book is one of the very best there is for giving an accurate, vivid picture of life in rural and urban areas of the northeastern part of the United States and eastern Canada in the mid 1850s.”

Personally, what I like best is Bird’s conversational tone. The book was compiled after her return based on notes and letters she wrote to her sister during her travels. For the researcher of history, historic accounts of this era are typically dry as dust. But the writing on these pages feels three-dimensional, conjuring clear images and experiences.

It’s not the first time I’ve felt refreshed by the perspective of a woman in the man’s world of the 19th century. I am the archivist for a 159-year-old church, and our “History of Woman’s Work,” a female account of our church history, stands in vivid relief to the history written by the men. The offical history of a pastor’s term of service notes that under the Rev. I. Dillon rallied the Ladies Aid to pay the church mortgage in full. The women’s account reads thus:

The church had a mortgage. Where to get the money was placed before Ladies Aid. Lumber in huge beams was being sent to San Francisco as well as salted salmon in good barrels, and any woman not doing her own bakery was denominated as shiftless. So, how could these church women make enough to clear the mortgage? … One woman with promoter’s vision said, as she addressed the chair: “Let’s have an excursion.” [So the Ladies Aid decided to organize a tour from San Francisco to the northwest.] … the excursionists came, looked and admired the huge trees that stood far up the hillsides of Seattle and loved Victoria, a quaint replica of an English town. When income and expenses were settled the Ladies Aid Society had
$900.00 net, which was promptly used to clear the mortgage on the white church.

—Mrs. Lulu Hall, History of Woman’s Work Vol. I

Talk to me, Lulu and Isabella. I’m all ears.

German Unity Day celebrated October 3

I am studying the German language online with the Goethe Institute. My tutor mentioned on a recent homework reply that this week is der Tag der Deutschen Einheit, the holiday of German Unity, and provided this link to a classroom site that gives a simple description (albeit in German, but there’s always Google Translate).

At which point I remembered–I was in Berlin during this holiday, in 2010. My friend Wolf took me to Glienicke Bridge, the bridge spanning the Havel River, a key place for the exchange of secret agents taken prisoner during the Cold War.

When I visited Berlin in 1988, I crossed the West-East boundary, traveling underground to enter to East Berlin for a brief day. In 2010, it felt a bit dizzying to be able to roam freely across a bridge once heavily guarded. Wolf and I strolled around the Schlosspark Glienicke (castle grounds) with its beautiful old trees, statues and gardens. It felt almost like a dream, and I’m so glad it wasn’t. Here’s wishing my friends and relatives in Germany a Happy German Unity Day.

Oh, the calliope

Reading David Yost’s “The Carousel Thief” in The Cincinnati Review‘s Summer 2012 issue (*great* story), I came across the word “calliope” again, triggering a vague memory from my research about life in Ohio in the 19th century. The reference occurs in Yost’s story thus:

She glanced around the carousel house with distaste, and for a moment I saw what she probably saw: her friends pacing the orange polyester carpet, staring out at the maples and sweetgums of Washington Park as the calliope played and they snacked on caviar and quail brains or whatever rich people serve to other rich people to impress them.

In context, you get the idea of what “calliope” signifies — not the Greek muse of epic poetry, but that flutey, jangling music that accompanies rides on historic carousels. In the 21st century, to our refined ears that sound is enough to make one cringe, but in the mid-19th century, the music of the calliope was a brand new wonder, a triumphal herald of the modern steam age.

Circa 1858, this 44-pipe Calliope announced the arrival of the Nixon & Kemp Circus in town. The instrument could be heard for ten to twelve miles, was drawn by a team of 40 horses, and cost a fortune ($18,000) to build. It also cost a fortune in upkeep (all those horses to stable and feed, for one thing) so the Calliope was not practical in the long run. But while it lasted, making its circuit through Ohio and other of the U.S.’s 31 states, it created quite a sensation.

Tobacco tales

This summer, we lost the iconic historical novelist Gore Vidal. During my research, I have appreciated his books on the 19th century, but, upon learning of his death, remembered I had not yet picked up Vidal’s Lincoln, a novel highly recommended to me by a writer friend, not only for its excellent writing and complexity, but because one of the main narrators is Salmon Portland Chase, former governor of Ohio.

It is a thick book, not only in page count, but in political and subversive machinations among key personalities of the Lincoln era. Reading it has jogged my memory on a number of subjects. Regarding the emancipation of slaves, for instance, I was reminded again it was an act instituted for less than altruistic reasons. Vidal underscored this point with his inclusion of information that the entire presidential cabinet felt the right thing to do, once the slaves were freed, would be to send the “Africans” back to Africa, or Granada, or some place. The only cabinet member against the idea was Chase, then Secretary of the Treasury, as he thought it would cost too much. It was all guesswork, as Lincoln learned when he asked for support for such an endeavor from freed black men. The powers that be really had no idea what they were doing.

Another minor detail that pinged my memory banks had to do with tobacco. For the better part of the nineteenth century, cigarettes did not exist. The use of tobacco consisted of pipes, cigars, snuff and chew. At the time, no doubt inhaling and the less harsh smoke from cigarettes seemed a marked improvement over the nasty practice of chewing and spitting.

“Chase looked about his half-furnished office and was half-pleased. The pearl-gray carpet of his first days as Secretary had long since been drowned in tobacco juice; and removed.” (p. 594, Lincoln, Gore Vidal)

The passage reminded me of something I’d read in Dickens, as he was describing the habit of tobacco chewing in the U.S. Capital in his American Notes.

In the White House, as just about everywhere he went in America, Dickens was appalled at the American male passion for chewing tobacco. He gives this account of a visit to the Capital (sic) building:

“Both Houses are handsomely carpeted; but the state to which these carpets are reduced by the universal disregard of the spittoon with which every honourable member is accommodated, and the extraordinary improvements on the pattern which are squirted and dabbled upon it in every direction, do not admit of being described. I will merely observe, that I strongly recommend all strangers not to look at the floor; and if they happen to drop anything, though it be their purse, not to pick it up with an ungloved hand on any account.”

(quoted from David Perdue’s Charles Dickens Page.)

It makes sense that the popularity of tobacco would be so ubiquitous. The cash crop, native to the Americas, once a cure for toothache and a symbol of peace, drove much of what followed — global trade, slavery, war. At Kouroo Contexture, I discovered an excellent compilation of “everything they could find on the subject” of tobacco, a.k.a. the Sot Weed, in history.