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Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Carolina Brookgreen Gardens Venture - Part 2 by Elva Cobb Martin

As a quick review of Part 1, we shared that Brookgreen Gardens, located just below Murrells Inlet, South Carolina, is a sculpture garden and wild life preserve covering 9,100 acres that originally made up four colonial rice plantations.
In 1931 Archer and Anna Huntington bought the property and co-founded Brookgreen Gardens, using the name of one of the plantations. They began to fill the garden with all sorts of Anna’s large animal sculptures, exotic plants, live animals, and even poetry.
The Huntington’s also built a winter home on the ocean side of the property, reminiscent of the Moorish castles they had seen in Granada. They named their home “Atalaya” which means “watchtower” in Spanish. Now part of the South Carolina State Park system, the 30-room castle (South Carolina’s only castle), courtyard, and surrounding buildings are open to the public.
One of the most interesting parts of Atalaya is Anna’s studio. A twenty-five foot skylight dominates the huge room where Mrs. Huntington worked on her outsized sculptures. The studio opens onto a small enclosed courtyard where she worked on her art, often from live models, out of doors when the weather permitted.
 

Atalaya Castle at Huntington Beach State Park, Murrells Inlet, South Carolina
 
Standing in the studio courtyard one can almost see Anna at work. She used scaffolding to do her large pieces like the fifteen-foot Don Quixote astride his poor mount Racinante. The story is told that when Anna got ready to do this piece, she acquired a local decrepit horse to model Racinante. But during the period of the modeling she took such good care of the animal, its health was fully restored.                                          
During the three years it took to build Atalaya on the beach side, plans for the gardens further inland continued at amazing speed.
The first step was to put limits on the sculpture garden area. The Huntingtons chose the old home site of Brookgreen Plantation. Only the kitchen remained of the original structure. To define the grounds without setting up too great a barrier between the sculpture garden and the rest of the park, they erected an open work brick wall. Shallow curves built in the wall would shelter plants and furnish niches for sculptures.
Anna Huntington drew and planned the garden walks in the shape of a butterfly with outstretched wings.
To insure perpetuity, the Huntingtons incorporated the Gardens in 1931 with a Board of Trustees to manage them and an endowment of $l million.

Samson and the Lion by Gleb Derujinsky

Archer and Anna made the decision to acquire sculptures from other American artists in addition to Anna’s sixty-three pieces.  
After Mr. Huntington’s death in 1955, Anna continued selecting and purchasing sculptures for the Gardens. By the time of her death in 1973, she had, along with Mr. Huntington, acquired hundreds of sculptures.
Visitors to Brookgreen Gardens today will enjoy its three main features: the Huntington Sculpture Garden, the Center for American Sculpture, and the Lowcountry History and Wildlife Preserve.
Virtually every American sculptor of the past century is now represented by one or more of over 1400 works in aluminum, bronze, and marble stone sculptures displayed in 35 acres of garden and landscape settings.
The Lowcountry History and Wildlife Preserve are rich with evidence of the great rice plantations and the Gullah culture of the enslaved Africans who sustained them, as well as hosting a zoo and an embarkation point for river boat cruises
Of special interest to me as an historical writer is the Oaks Plantation History Trail which includes the cemetery of the Allston/Alston family who owned the rice plantation from the 1730’s through the early 1900’s. This plantation was home to early South Carolina Governor Joseph Alston and his wife Theodosia Burr Alston, who was the daughter of Aaron Burr, the Vice-President of the United States. Joseph’s and Theodosia’s marriage in 1801 was followed by a series of tragedies that ended with Theodosia’s disappearance at sea in 1813.


Allston Family Cemetery 1730

Last but not least, on a short list to visit with children, is the Enchanted Storybook Forest which contains a collection of storybook playhouses created by local architects and organizations. Each house is based on a classic children’s story or nursery rhyme and encourages reading. Books are available at the Butterfly ticket booth for parents to check out and read to their children.
Hope you enjoyed our visit to South Carolina’s Brookgreen Gardens which is much more than gardens. It’s a museum, art gallery, zoo and historical trail!
Thanks for stopping by. 


Elva Cobb Martin is a freelance writer and president of the Upstate SC American Christian Writers' Chapter. Her research for this article was collected for an inspirational novel she has just completed set in the Colonial/Pirate era of Charleston. She has been published in The State Magazine, Decision, and Charisma. She blogs on the Golden Age of Piracy and other topics at  http://carolinaromancewithelvamartin.blogspot.com  She lives in Anderson, South Carolina with her family. She can be reached through her web site  www.elvamartin.com

Monday, October 28, 2013

Cordwainers and Cobblers

If ever I Saint Crispin’s day forget
may my feet be never free from wet,
But ev’ry dirty street and lane pass through
Without one bit of sole to either shoe.


        Saint Crispin is the commonly recognized patron saint of shoemakers, though there have been others. Since medieval times, October 25 has been celebrated as St. Crispin's Day feast day and the shoemakers’ holiday. Boot and shoemakers would close their shops on this day in celebration.

        In colonial times, a cordwainer was the name for a shoemaker as opposed to a cobbler, who was a shoe repairer and who had as much as five years less training than a cordwainer. Cobblers were often prohibited by law from making shoes.
        Shoemakers had arrived in Jamestown, VA, by 1607, and were flourishing by 1616.

        Christopher Nelme, a British shoemaker, was the first known shoemaker to arrive in America, which he did in 1619. In Plymouth, the first shoemakers to follow the trade there arrived in 1629.    
        Before leaving England, each colonist was allotted four pairs of leather shoes called “Well-Neat Leather” shoes. Working shoes were fully welted and made from heavy leather on the top and bottom.

Lady's shoe (Los Angeles Museum of Art)
        The earliest shoes did not have buckles but were secured with overlapping straps. They were made on straight form, which means that there was not right or left shoe, and a shoe could be worn on either foot. To ensure an even wear and to make the shoes last longer, men and women would shift the shoes from one foot to the other.
        Boot making was the most sophisticated and prestigious branch of the trade. By tradition, the making of boots and shoes for men and the making of shoes for women were separate pursuits. Dancing shoes had lighter soles and were usually made out of material.
        The shoemaker’s tool kit included items with names such as “helling sticks,” “petty-boys,” and “St. Hugh’s Bones.”
There’s an interesting story about St. Hugh, a prince of Britain in 300 AD, who fell on hard times and became a shoemaker who preached the gospel. He fell in love with a woman who was arrested and condemned to death for her devotion to God. He too was condemned because of his association with her. It is said that his fellow shoemakers held a vigil while he was made to drink poison. He was so destitute, all he had to leave were his bones. After his death, his friends pulled his body from the gibbet and distributed his bones. These were made into shoemaking tools. Hence, the name “St. Hugh’s Bones."
        Cordwainers in New England set up small shops, sometimes in their homes, where they made shoes on request. For custom made shoes, models were made of people’s feet. These models, called lasts, were carved out of wood and kept for subsequent shoe orders. Large plantations usually had a shoemaker to maintain the families’ shoes.
Cordwainer's tools
(The Trade Museum of Suhlendorf)
        Cobblers travelled from town to town, exchanging shoe repair for room and board, and circulating news and gossip. They sometimes used a unique shoemaker’s lamp, an oil lamp with water-filled globes that amplified the light at the work area.



Susan F. Craft

I am a historical fiction writer with a novel, The Chamomile, released in November 2011. The Chamomile won the Southern Independent Booksellers Alliance Okra Pick Award. I'm represented by Hartline Literary Agency
       

Friday, October 25, 2013

Ahoy, the Boat!

The Battle of Trafalgar 1805

This week, on October 21, Britain observed Trafalgar Day, celebrating the 1805 Battle of Trafalgar, a monumental clash between the British Royal Navy and the combined French and Spanish fleets. The victorious British ended the threat of Napoleon's invasion of England. 

British naval hero Admiral Horatio Nelson was mortally wounded aboard his ship Victory, but went on to be their most celebrated naval hero. Much like our U.S.S Constitution, H.M.S. Victory is an amazing walk-through 'living' museum in Portsmouth, England.
H.M.S Victory- Horatio Nelson's Flagship during the Battle of Trafalgar
During the 18th and 19th centuries, it would be hard to imagine an American Navy that did not take its lead from the mighty British Navy, yet it was that same foreign navy that twice pushed the building up of ours.

In the years leading up to the Revolutionary War, states relied on their sea-going merchants to keep an eye on activity along our borders and across the seas.  When Independence was claimed, some states created their own navies with the help of privateers. The first U.S. Navy was established on October 13th 1775. Benedict Arnold ordered twelve ships built to slow the British’s plan of invading from Canada but by the end of the war, nearly all Continental ships had been destroyed by the superior British Navy. The bulk of the work was done by Privateers who carried “Letters of Marque” allowing them to act on behalf of the American Navy. It is estimated that nearly $66 million dollars worth of property was seized from British merchant ships.

After the Treaty of Paris, the navy was demobilized until the Naval Act of 1794 which once again created an official U.S. Navy. This time, it was to deal with pirates in the Mediterranean.  With tensions in Europe, especially between Britain, France and Spain, the neutral United States still had her hands full trying to maintain free trade.

By 1805, Britain and France and Spain were years into two officially separate wars. On October 21st, twenty-seven British ships fought thirty-three French and Spanish ships off Cape Trafalgar on the southwest coast of Spain. Despite their lower numbers, most of the British ships were ‘ships of the line’, the largest and most powerful.  Led by Commodore Nelson's  spectacular battle strategy, the British gained a decisive victory. War went on with Napoleon on land for years, but never again did France or Spain challenge the British Navy in any large contingent.
British Press Gangs
Struggling to keep their massive war ships going, on a global basis, the British Navy continued to press (detain and force into labor) American seaman. This was one of the reasons cited for the U.S' second declaration of war against Great Britain in 1812.

This time, the U.S. Navy was prepared with better ships, and better-manned and were often equally matched with the British Navy. Despite hostilities, the two navies were birds of a feather and again it came down to strategy of commanding officers.   
the U.S.S Constitution out for a celebratory two hundredth anniversary sail 2012
Three American naval officers still bear the highest respect for their War of 1812 defeats of the powerful "Nelson's Navy".

Captain Isaac Hull of the U.S.S. Constitution for multiple sea battle wins,
Captain Oliver Perry for his win on the U.S. Brig Niagara in the Battle of Lake Erie, and Captain Thomas MacDonough aboard the U.S. Saratoga for the war’s last major U.S. win, the battle of Lake Champlain. 
The Battle of Plattsburgh on Lake Champlain, near Chazy NY
Without glorifying war, we are still able to marvel at the beauty of tall ships and the skill of the men who sailed them in the golden age of  sail. I admit to being a bit obsessed with these ships and this period in U.S and British history. Thank you for stopping by!

(all images from Wikipedia)

For more on the Navy, see

Hammocks, a Sailor's Bed

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

The Bettering House and the Manufactory

by Roseanna M. White

Who should be responsible for the poor? For the needy? Whose job is it to feed the hungry and clothe the naked?

And if one takes that responsibility...how should one go about it?

To the Quakers of Colonial Philadelphia, the answer to both was simple: this was a task that ought to fall to them, not to the government, and they were not going to feed mouths without feeding souls. More often than not, they felt, people arrived at low circumstances because of their own choices--often bad ones, morally speaking. And so, they needed to be taught. They needed to bettered.
A Quaker almshouse

Quakers ruled the merchant class of Pennsylvania, and they had come up with an idea on how to at once raise the impoverished of Philadelphia from the murk and put them on a path of hope. The Bettering House was run by these merchants, with the goal to improve them in both body and spirit. Families moved into the House, where they were separated by gender. Once there, they received food, clothes, sermons, and gainful employment in the form of spinning, weaving, and dyeing cloth.

Up until this time, the city had been responsible for the poor, but their efforts were small--they provided a bit of food, what firewood they could. The Bettering House took this burden off the city's shoulders.

But by the mid-1760s, unemployment was on the rise, and the weaknesses of the Bettering House became glaring. Families were separated, the work was hard, the pay was little, and the residents often resented getting "preached to."

In 1775, a new idea formed, not by Quakers, but by well-educated but monetarily bereft men who shared a passion for bettering the plight of working men in general. With the ultimate goal of earning the common laborer a voice and a vote, James Cannon helped found a rival to the Bettering House--the United Company of Philadelphia for Promoting American Manufacturers...also known as the American Manufactory.

The Manufactory employed a radical new method--since British imports had been banned and the need for domestic-made cloth was on the rise, they saw a new way to provide fair, steady income to families without taking them from their homes and each other. Women could now work from home under the Manufactory's authority, spinning and weaving at their own levels, and then delivering the cloth to the Manufactory for dyeing. The overhead for the company was low, so profits were high for all involved in the process. Families remained intact. 

Though the Bettering House had a fine and noble goal, it's no great surprise that its numbers started tapering off while the American Manufactory boomed. I love the idea of bettering the soul while tending the physical needs, but perhaps the elite misunderstood what those souls really needed--the love of their families, and the assurance that their voice was heard.

~*~

Roseanna M. White pens her novels under the Betsy Ross flag hanging above her desk, with her Jane Austen action figure watching over her. When she isn’t homeschooling her small kids and writing fiction, she’s editing it for WhiteFire Publishing or reviewing it for the Christian Review of Books, both of which she co-founded with her husband.

Monday, October 21, 2013

HOG KILLING TIME

The first time I heard the expression “hog killing time” was in northern Virginia in the late 80’s. I was facilitating a Bible study fellowship luncheon, and posing a question to the ladies just to get the conversation focused.  Given that it was November, I asked them what their Thanksgiving traditions were. The answers were varied, but for the most part they spoke of sumptuous meals, family football forays, and shared spiritual traditions. One lady changed the course of the luncheon topic when she smiled and said, “Thanksgiving, with the extra days off, is hog killing time.” After a minute or so of stunned silence, the ladies piped in with all sorts of questions, and she proceeded to tell us what her Thanksgivings were like.

Virginia has long been famous for its smoked pork and hams, and the procedure for processing this tasty meat has not changed much over the centuries. Open range hogs feasted on all sorts of things, while the domesticated swine’s diet was likely vegetation from the farm or remainders from the kitchen.  In both cases, farmers might alter their diet to corn for a few weeks before they were killed, since it would improve the flavor of the meat.

There are no pictures here of pigs being slaughtered, butchered, or cured. I never recovered from what I had to do to that piglet in my high school physiology lab. Besides, these critters are known to be some of the cleanest and smartest domestic animals. Use your imagination.

Hog killing took place in colonial times from late November through mid December since they needed to be butchered and cured once cold weather could be assured. Even now, with refrigeration, the tradition has remained.

Once the animals were killed, large kettles of boiling water were prepared for scalding the animal, a process that facilitates scraping the hair from the hide. Then the swine would then be cut into pieces that were more manageable. It has often been said that no part of the pig is wasted – enough said!

There are basically two steps to cure meat.
  1. The fresh meat is packed in coarse salt for about six weeks so that the salt can draw out all the water from the meat. The water is discarded.
Peyton Randolph House,
Smokehouse, Williamsburg, Va
2. The meat is then hung in tightly constructed wooden sheds with steep roofs, without windows or chimneys while a fire smoldered for up to two weeks to dry it and give it that wonderful smoky flavor. It will remain there for another two years to age.

One can see smokehouses all over Colonial Williamsburg behind houses. If you were to visit practically any 18th century home, other than a city house, you will probably still find a smokehouse nearby. Smokehouses had to be replaced periodically as the salt and smoking broke down the composition of the wood. You may see brick smokehouses on some estates such as Shirley Plantation, but they also need replacing occasionally due to salt damage.

For those of you unfamiliar with country hams, this is not your canned or grocery store ham. (Smithfield hams or Edwards hams are two well known brands) Let me warn you, take seriously the directions to soak the hams before preparing your meal. Serve smaller servings; say as you would Italian prosciutto.

All these years later, I sometimes wonder if that family in northern Virginia is still spending Thanksgiving killing and processing hogs. If so, there must be some relieved turkeys smiling nearby.



Friday, October 18, 2013

Adventures in Historically Accurate Costuming, Part Two

So, picking up the saga from my first post on sewing an 18c outfit ...

I decided I needed a shift (the sleeves on my cotton medieval chemise were far too full to fit inside the very fitted ones of an 18c gown), basic stays (I planned to make a cardboard mockup as phase one of fitting for “real” ones, and I’d heard of at least one person wearing the mockup to an event, so that couldn’t be so bad, could it?), an under-petticoat made over from an old linen skirt, and a basic gown and matching petticoat. I’d purchased some linen, both white and natural, on sale a few months ago. I was working from plans I’d found online at a source recommended by those experienced in the hobby of period reenacting. This meant no pattern as such, just measurements taken on myself and then translated to lines, angles and curves on a folded length of fabric. (I found the shift instructions on marariley.net. Great site overall for information on period dress!)

First attempt at cutting out the body of the shift
I’ll spare you the bulk of the story, but my first attempt at a shift resulted in a garment that was absolutely HUGE. A fellow seamstress very kindly gave me a piece of linen she’d purchased then found unsuitable for what she’d wanted, so I tried again. Much better—the neckline is still too wide, but I realized the directions are intended for use of a drawstring, which I didn’t plan on doing. (There’s actually less provenance for a drawstring neckline than a plain, flat seam.)

Coming up with a workable cardboard stays mockup was also interesting. Using a JP Ryan pattern for mid-18th century stays, I cut each piece separately, minus seam allowances, the boning lines parallel with the corrugation, then taped them together.

First stays mockup, taped and ready for laces
The first stays mockup--so long! So awkward!
 (See how the tabs stick straight out, especially along the back and sides?)

My second mockup, shift, and petticoat
Wearing them was both easier and harder than I expected. Easier, in that I expected the support aspect but they weren’t as constricting as I was afraid they might be. I could move around easily, although they certainly make you sit up and pay attention to your posture, which was their intended purpose. Harder, in that I experienced some cramping across my hips after wearing them for longer than 20 minutes. I kept reminding myself I only had to be able to wear them for a couple of hours, and that real stays would, by all accounts, be much more comfortable. In search of a better fit, I cut new pieces—shorter this time, and made them front-lacing with a stomacher (a separate, roughly triangular piece for the front), which didn’t work very well. In desperation, I reinforced the front sections, which had buckled a little in the fitting, and made it more closely laced in front, then with lots of tape reinforcement across the tabs to make them lie down, called it mostly good.

Finally, it was time to take the plunge on the gown. Using the JP Ryan pattern for a gown l’anglaise, I first did a bodice mockup in unbleached muslin (right now it doubles as the lining—I might redo it later in linen). The fit was decent enough, so with much fear and trembling, I began cutting on the fabulous lightweight worsted wool suiting I’d found online. It’s described as “maroon” but depending upon the light, it looks cranberry or claret. Regardless, it was wonderful to work with. The bodice went together fairly well ...
Pleating the skirt before attaching

That point is awfully bunchy ...
   ... and then came the skirt, with its yards of hand pleating, and eventually sewing—by machine, because it’s an area that won’t show. I did have to redo a bit of the seam, near the point of the back, since it puckered and bunched the first time.

Once I had the lining mostly in and put together the matching petticoat, I had to try everything on again. I pinned the front with a few long florist’s pins, and my daughter helped me mark a hem. That was just a couple of days before the conference ....
Separate skirt and matching petticoat

The gown wouldn’t really be “finished,” but I did manage to get white linen sleeve flounces put in. At the last minute I decided to go with pinning the front closed, and guess what? It was also easier than I expected to weave the pin in and out, and make it secure. I felt a strange new fellowship with the women of the eighteenth century ...

So, I wore my gown for the ACFW conference and had a fabulous time, but after about three hours, my hips and lower back were in some moderate pain. I sadly exchanged the ensemble for a hot shower and comfy modern clothes. By the time I left the conference, I’d decided to get at least the skeleton of a pair of real stays finished by the time my book launch party rolled around—they couldn’t be any worse than the cardboard mockup—but that’s a tale for another segment!

The lovely Beth Goddard & I at ACFW

(Since I came home from conference to the news of a job offer out of state for my husband, and an impending move, my attending the author signing at the November reenactment is currently in question, but I promise to finish with either a recap of that or a review of what I’ve learned about this particular brand of research! Thank you all so much for your patience.)

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

The 18th Century Printing Press by Amber Perry

18th century printing press

Oh, the glories of modern technology. Information is everywhere, and we can access it as easy as turning on our phones!

Well, back in the 18th century they did not enjoy such luxuries. To produce books, newspapers and other such means of education and information, the work was long, tedious and often backbreaking. On a recent visit to Colonial Williamsburg I took particular interest in the printing press. I am truly amazed at what people did day-in and day-out to make sure that the people of the colonies were well informed.

This was no cake walk! Typically a print shop would employ two to three men, but if it was small, the work could be done with one person--it just would take a very long time. The "compositor" gathered the type and arranged it in composing sticks and then into galleys, the "beater" would spread the ink--a mixture of varnish and lampblack--over the galleys, and the "pressman" would pull the lever once the carriage (the place where the galleys were secured) was ready to go. A lot more work than just sitting at a computer, huh?

Still want to know more? Or perhaps you think you could do this "easy" job, huh? OK! Let me show you what it takes to print only ONE page using 18th century technology, and when we're through, tell me if you still want to take up this all-important trade!



Step 1: Gather your letters

Ever wonder where we get the terms "upper case" and "lower case"?
Well, in the top case are the capital letters and in the lower are, well, the
lower letters. *grin* Once you have the letters you need, you can fill your composing sticks.
Remember to put all the letters in backwards so you can read it correctly when the print is done. 



Step Two: Fill the composing sticks and set them in the galleys. 
This job often took hours. A printer's day was not easy and often lasted up to 14 hours or more.

So, you've filled all the composing sticks and placed them securely in the galleys. Good work!

Step Three: Get your paper. 
Now, the paper a printer used had to be damp--not dry--to allow the ink to adhere properly. So, the printer had to wet all the paper before he used it. It needed to be just damp, not dripping, so he would wet the papers in a large vat of water, take out the stack and let it sit, until the papers reached the right dampness. Just another step in the process that seems insignificant, but is very important.

Hold your paper carefully. Since it's wet, it is more likely to tear--and we don't want to waste.
 Next, secure it in place.



Step Four: Cover the galleys in ink.
As stated, there were different types of inks used, but the ink of choice was typically varnish and lampblack.
Inkballs were used to adhere the ink to the galleys--this was the "beater's" job.


Make sure when you apply the ink, to cover all the letters evenly.



Step Five: Move the carriage under the platen and pull on the lever.
What's a platen? Oh, that's the thingy that goes up and down and presses the paper to the ink-covered galley. *wink*

Close the paper over the galleys, then move it under the platen and pull!! You will
need a strong upper body to do this all day long.



Step Six: Remove the paper
Wow! Finally, a printed page. Now, you get to do this over and over again until your newspaper is finished . . . 14 hours later. *yikes*

You should be very proud of yourself!



But, your work is not yet done. The paper--not to mention the ink--is still damp and needs to dry so it won't smear.

Step Seven: Hang the paper over the ropes near the ceiling (make sure the fire is roaring nicely during cooler months) and wait until its dry to remove it.

These are the ropes for you to hang your finished product on. Just make sure
that the fire in your fireplace is roaring nicely. That will help the drying go faster.


So, what do you think? Would this have been your trade-of-choice? Personally, I would have loved it! (And yes, woman were known to work in print shops, though not as a general rule. In case you were wondering . . .)

I hope you have enjoyed your tour of the 18th century printing press. Thank you for joining me!

What did you think? If printing isn't your forte, what trade would you have chosen?