suzanneadair | Author Suzanne Adair

Emergency Grants to Help Artists During the COVID-19 Pandemic

Posted on March 18, 2020 by suzanneadairMarch 18, 2020

Since last Friday, I’ve had one upcoming author event after another cancelled or postponed because of COVID-19. Coming on the heels of the expensive repairs I had to make on my car in late January, loss of all that work is catastrophic to me.

North Carolina artists relief fund
I wasn’t going to post anything about my personal dilemma. People all over the world are dying from this wretched virus; and Artspace, Pinecone, the United Arts Council, and VAE Raleigh have created a relief fund for NC artists affected by cancellation of their events due to COVID-19. I applied for the fund yesterday and crossed my fingers.

I then received an email from the fund coordinator, asking all of us to share via social media the plight of NC artists. More than 125 of us have applied for relief, requesting a total of $144,918. Donors have thus far given $6,725.

North Carolina artists are taking a severe beating from this economic downturn. If any of you good people can contribute to this fund, please do so.

https://vaeraleigh.org/artist-relief-fund

Patreon artists relief fund
In addition, today (18 March) from 7–10pm EDT, Patreon is hosting a “Weird Stream-a-thon” to support artists whose livelihood has been compromised by COVID-19 cancellations. During this digital event, Patreon will raise money for a new artist grant—a fund for creators run by creators—benefiting artists whose creative businesses have been adversely affected.

Patreon will kick off the fund by donating $10K, adding an additional $1 for every stream-a-thon attendee. This means that even if you can’t donate, you’ll be helping creators worldwide just through attending (and sharing) this event.

In times of uncertainty and isolation, the world needs creators more than ever. Please join us. And here’s a tweet to share:

Support artists impacted by the #COVID-19 event cancellations, and come together as a community. Tune in to the #WeirdStreamathon with @Patreon, 7–10pm EDT 18 March. Fans and artists, please help spread the word! http://bit.ly/2WkWLbh

http://www.patreon.com/SuzanneAdair

Thank you!

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Anachronism, a Sundial, and the Enslaved People of Joel Lane’s Plantation

Posted on February 25, 2020 by suzanneadairFebruary 25, 2020

Joel Lane Museum House director Lanie Hubbard shows how a group of enslaved people from late 18th-century North Carolina was recently memorialized.

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Relevant History welcomes Lanie Hubbard, director of the Joel Lane Museum House (JLMH) in Raleigh, North Carolina. A native of Arizona, Lanie’s background for the position is unorthodox. An MA in literature honed her research and storytelling skills; and she spent four New Mexico summers in historic costume, teaching Boy Scouts to blacksmith and apply cattle brands to their hiking boots, while keeping the kids from getting themselves eaten by bears. Blacksmithing and boot-ruining taught Lanie to love sharing history, while camp oversight and bear-disappointment prepared her for management. After joining JLMH as a part-time docent in 2014, she became director in 2017. To learn more, follow JLMH on Facebook.

*****

On Sunday 16 February 2020, dozens of members of the Raleigh community gathered at the JLMH to dedicate a new memorial to forty-three men, women, and children enslaved by Joel Lane and his family. We talked about the history, spoke the names, and prayed. Likely descendants of the enslaved lifted the cloth, revealing the new monument. We sang “Amazing Grace.” It was a profound experience. (Check out the news story posted a few days before the ceremony.)

This site was the seat of a large plantation founded in 1769. We speak of Joel Lane as a local founding father. If we are to fully explore the history of this place and Lane’s role in founding Wake County, Raleigh, and America, we must discuss human bondage.

The memorial, cast in bronze and mounted to the granite pillar supporting the sundial in our Herb Garden, bears the name of each enslaved person our researchers have identified. For the first time, permanently installed on the grounds of Joel Lane’s former plantation, stands a physical tribute to those whose lives and labor were twisted into the warp and weave of life in this place, whose hands laid the literal foundations. The new plaque reflects a history that is factually inseparable from the other stories of our beginnings.

It also stands in memory of Florence Mitchell, longtime docent and education chair. She made a mission of researching the people enslaved by Joel Lane and added greatly to our knowledge. Florence left a generous 2018 bequest to the museum. This permanent memorial to the enslaved, made possible by that gift, honors her work and continues it.

As we began the project, space was limited. JLMH stands on about a third of an acre—land already occupied by four structures, a formal garden, and an herb garden. It was in the herb garden that we found our solution: a sundial that never quite fit in. We would turn a distraction into a teaching tool. We seem to do that a lot.

Embracing anachronism
Lately, I’ve been teaching every third grader who crosses our threshold the word anachronism. It’s our docents’ delightful job to dress up in colonial clothing and physically guide the children into the foreign world of the eighteenth century, while gently reminding them not to touch the teacups. It’s every eight-year-old’s job, contractually, to point out a smoke detector and demand, “okay, so what’s that?”—then use the distraction to reach for the forbidden teacups.

Children use the tools we give them. When I give them the word anachronism, they can contextualize not only the smoke detector, but my strange period costume. In their electrical-digital world, my apron and cap set me outside of their time—but in my world, they’re the visitors, with a tourist’s eagerness to explore. I introduce myself as anachronism, then lead them to a place where they become anachronism. That smoke detector, then, isn’t a glitch they can exploit to confuse me—it’s simply an anachronism, much less interesting than the teacup I’m showing them. This strategy lets me teach them not only the local history but a wider, conceptual notion of History. Anachronism gives us context to move past the little modern distractions to compare and contrast eras, discuss how people solved problems in the past, and find, through difference, the similarities people share across time.

The sundial
It all works until the tour reaches the sundial, which manages to disrupt tours like—well, like clockwork. By the time a class makes it to the herb garden, their docent has already shepherded them through myriad more obvious distractions. The nearby train whistle. A chaperone’s cell phone ringer. That neighbor with a big yellow hat and a bushy beard who rides a bicycle lifted like a monster truck. A squirrel.

The sundial is a circle of green-patinaed bronze, mounted on a grey, rough-hewn granite block, still marked from the quarry. Green on grey stone, in a garden of green herbs and grey gravel. It’s the sort of ornament one expects in a historical garden. Adults tend not to notice it.

It’s all third-graders can see. Children flock to the sundial. “What is that?” “Is everyone late when it rains?” “What about Daylight Savings?” “Isn’t it better to have a clock indoors?” “How do they wake up if it doesn’t have an alarm?”

This is supposed to be the part of the tour where we talk about herbs. Yarrow to stop bleeding. Tansy to repel flies and as yellow dye. Rosemary for remembrance. Lamb’s ear as top-shelf colonial-era toilet paper. Medicines, flavors, chemicals, symbols; see and touch and smell. The sundial, in comparison, doesn’t offer much. It’s a technology that had existed millennia before Joel Lane’s time, but an object no more important to everyday life in the eighteenth century than to the twenty-first. (Clocks existed!) It is doubly anachronistic—unfamiliar to the children, but irrelevant to the tour.

Thus a longstanding problem became our solution, centered in a place of peace and honor, surrounded by fruits of the sorts of labor the enslaved were made to perform. We mounted the plaque on the northern face. The homes of the enslaved were probably to the north. North for hope, for freedom. North, toward an end to slavery. The once-distracting sundial will now begin a new conversation, about the most troubling anachronism of all: slavery.

Slavery has been integral to JLMH interpretation since before my time as director. It’s a troubling subject that rightfully pulls joy from docent and guests alike—it makes people sad and angry. It can be difficult to explain to children. They innately understand the unfairness and wrongness of it, but not how people could justify doing such a thing. They’ve learned of Joel Lane as a founding father, but can someone whose accomplishments relied on enslaved labor be a great man? Can he be good? These are the questions a docent doesn’t answer. We just help kids ask them. The new memorial honors the enslaved and supports this work.

*****

A big thanks to Lanie Hubbard! She’ll give away a copy of The Narrative of Lunsford Lane, an autobiography of the son of one of Joel Lane’s slaves; plus a set of four tour tickets to the Joel Lane Museum House (no expiration date), to someone who contributes a comment on my blog this week. I’ll choose the winner from among those who comment by Friday at 6 p.m. ET. Delivery is available worldwide.

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Did you like what you read? Learn about downloads, discounts, and special offers from Relevant History authors and Suzanne Adair. Join Suzanne Adair’s Patreon, and subscribe to her free newsletter.

Holding History in Your Hand

Posted on February 4, 2020 by suzanneadairFebruary 4, 2020

Historical mystery author Ana Brazil champions the visual value of vintage postcards.

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Relevant History welcomes back Ana Brazil, a longtime student of history and a voracious reader of mystery. Her historical mystery novel and short stories feature brash American heroines, the more bodacious the better. Ana’s debut novel, Fanny Newcomb and the Irish Channel Ripper, won the 2018 IBPA GOLD Medal for Historical Fiction. Her current work-in-progress features a vaudevillian-chanteuse-who-knows-too-much set in 1919 San Francisco. Ana is an active member of Sisters in Crime and the Historical Novel Society, and a founding member of the Paper Lantern Writers Collective of historical fiction writers. To learn more about Ana and her fiction, visit her web site, and follow her on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads.

*****

In an earlier Relevant History post, I shared my long-standing love of Sanborn Fire Insurance maps, which I used extensively in my research of Gilded Age New Orleans. Today I’m sharing my fascination with Turn-of-the-Century-and-slightly-beyond postcards. Or as I call them, “the best hold-it-in-your-hand-history ever.”

Many, many historians have detailed the history of postcards much better than I could ever hope to, but I will share these two first facts: the first known postcard was sent through London in 1840 and the first known American postcard was sent in December 1848.

From those 19th-century dates, postcards made a slow but steady ascent into the lives of mail-sending people across the globe. Postcards reached their Golden Age during the years 1907-1913-ish when postcards were produced, sold, sent, and collected at an astounding rate.

Fortunately for all, the Golden Age of postcards intersected with the turn-of-the-century City Beautiful movement (a concerted effort to enhance the appearance of American towns and cities) and with the advent of automobile-inspired tourism. As a result, postcards of the Golden Age showed off the best and brightest of a city’s civic buildings, parks, churches, residences, and commercial areas. And don’t forget the cemeteries! I’ve collected countless postcards of New Orleans’ lushly landscaped Metairie and St. Louis cemeteries.

A primary source you can afford to collect
Vintage postcards are absolutely one of the easiest primary sources to collect. They’re small, they’re flat, and they usually cost less than $5.00 apiece to purchase.

I purchased my first New Orleans postcards in Magazine Street and French Quarter antique shops. I quickly graduated to searching out postcards at flea markets, swap meets, and garage sales in the south. When EBay came along, my New Orleans postcard collection seemed to explode with inspiring images.

The variety of images types is vast:

Bird’s eye postcards—just like the bird’s eye maps that inspired them—provide an overview of all or parts of the city.

Streetscapes give you an idea of a manageable landscape, including these Italian Headquarters.

Blocks & Buildings. New Orleans has always been renowned for glorious residences (like this one on Esplanade Avenue), many of which were built on entire city blocks.

People, Places, & Things—I’ve always wanted to put this milk seller (and the carefree boy in the boater leaning against an electrical pole) into one of my stories, but just haven’t found the right place for either of them yet.

How to use your postcards creatively
I’ve studied each of my postcards, often with a jeweler’s loupe, for clues about life in New Orleans. The details abound—the blue and white striped awnings in the French Quarter, the statues on the lawn, the canals and palm tress in the cemetery, the six lanes of traffic on Canal Street—and go into my scenes, chapters, and stories about New Orleans.

And I always read the Message and Address on the postcard back in hopes of coming across something useable. Should I change a character’s name to “Mrs. Lottie Ulrich?” How about “Mrs. Edgar R. Patterson?” Or should I address each married woman character as “Mrs.” more often?

And what writer isn’t intrigued by these postcard messages?

After a haircut-shave, shampoo and massage I looked so young I immediately started for Chicago. I did enjoy your visit so and can’t thank you enough.

I’m here [in New Orleans] and feeling fine as silk.

Another week and I’ll be eating real grub.

The voices of the past make the entire city feel alive to me. And hopefully that translates in my writing.

I enjoy my New Orleans postcard images so much that I’ve integrated them into blog posts and my website. I’ve also used them as swag (I give away reproduced postcards instead of bookmarks) and as book club show-and-tell.

For anyone interested in Turn-of-the-Century urban American, I cannot recommend postcards of the era enough!

I hope you have the opportunity to wander through a box of old postcards someday soon. Just find one postcard that delights you, hold-it-in-your-hand, and let the images and words of the past perform their magic.

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A big thanks to Ana Brazil! She’ll give away a packet of four reproduction postcards and one original postcard of Italian Headquarters, plus a paperback copy of Fanny Newcomb and the Irish Channel Ripper, to someone who contributes a comment on my blog this week (available Tuesday 4 February). I’ll choose the winner from among those who comment by Friday at 6 p.m. ET. Delivery is available in the US only.

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Did you like what you read? Learn about downloads, discounts, and special offers from Relevant History authors and Suzanne Adair. Join Suzanne Adair’s Patreon, and subscribe to her free newsletter.

The “Why” Behind Two Famous Witch Hunts

Posted on January 14, 2020 by suzanneadairJanuary 14, 2020

Historical fiction author Karen Perkins takes a stab at the “why” of two historical witch hunts.

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Relevant History welcomes historical fiction author Karen Perkins, author of the Yorkshire Ghost Stories, the Pendle Witch Short Stories, and the Valkyrie Series of historical nautical fiction. All of her fiction has appeared at the top of bestseller lists on both sides of the Atlantic, including the top 21 in the UK Kindle Store in 2018. To learn more about Karen and her books, visit her web site, and follow her on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Goodreads.

*****

The horror of the Salem Witch Trials in Massachusetts in 1692 is well known, especially as it involved children as accusers leading to trials and executions. But did you know that a similar scenario played out eighty years before in the north of England?

The largest difference between the two witch hunt frenzies seems to be that the Salem trials are now believed to be caused by the ergot fungus; the girls who accused their neighbours were poisoned by their bread. But why were they believed so readily, and to the point where nineteen people were hanged, and another 150 accused, harangued, and lived in fear for their lives?

The answer may well lie in Lancashire, England, wherein lies Pendle Forest. Within this area, in the shadow of the ominously looming Pendle Hill, lay a humble abode with the rather grand name of Malkin Towers. Although the witch trials sucked in many women from the surrounding countryside, this was the hub of the Pendle Witch Hunts, which led to trials at the ancient Lancaster and York Castles.

Growing up not far away in the Yorkshire Dales, I had long known of the “Pendle Witches.” I wanted to find out more and understand how and why the witch trials had happened at all, and was determined to write about them. I had already written one book set in Haworth, the home village of Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë (Parliament of Rooks), and as Haworth is literally over the hill from Pendle (Cathy and Heathcliff may well have been able to see Pendle Hill from Wuthering Heights), the Pendle witch trials became the inspiration for my second (and forthcoming) Ghosts of Haworth novel, A Question of Witchcraft.

However, as I researched the lives and trials of the women caught up in the craze of witch hunting, they drowned out the voices of my Haworth characters, and I knew I had to write their stories first. Above all, I had to do them justice.

Parliament of Rooks and A Question of Witchcraft are both dual-timeline novels and combine historical fiction with the supernatural, but I wanted to keep my books about the Pendle Witches as true to the known facts as possible. I have therefore focused on the evidence given at their trials to recreate what happened to these women and children—how they were used, manipulated, and above all persecuted—in a series of short stories, in an attempt to understand what sparked this lust for hunting “witches.”

The short answer is religious intolerance.

The European Reformation
The Reformation in Europe led to a strong divide, and even hatred, between Protestants and Catholics for more than a century. Each country’s religion was enforced without mercy. If your religion did not concur with your current King or Queen’s, then you faced horrific torture and hanging or burning as a heretic.

The notion of witchcraft soon became synonymous with heresy with the publication of Malleus Maleficarum—a guide to recognizing, catching, and punishing witches written by two Inquisitors, Kramer and Sprenger—and the craze for witch hunting began in earnest. Overall in Europe, over 80,000 people were put to death for witchcraft between 1500 and 1660. Eighty percent of them were women.

In England, King Henry VIII broke from the Catholic Church to set up the Church of England. Then the country swayed brutally back and forth between Protestantism and Catholicism with successive monarchs, plus a Puritan parliament during the English Civil War in the mid-1600s. No wonder people were keen to brave the dangers of a six-week ocean voyage aboard the Mayflower and similar ships for the freedom to practice their religion without persecution in Massachusetts Bay!

The cunning ways
But religion was only one reason why the Pendle women were accused. Just why were they singled out amongst others who managed to live safely? The only recourse to health the common man or woman had were the local “cunning ways,” and the cunning women also practiced as midwives. They saved many lives through medical knowledge of birthings passed down through generations and also made salves and potions from herbs and other natural substances to heal and cure.

In their role as midwives, they were authorized under the Catholic Church to perform the rite of baptism on a baby unlikely to survive long enough to be baptized in church. This was so that the child could be buried within the churchyard; unbaptized babies were considered full of sin and were not permitted to be buried in sanctified ground! Many stillborn babies were also “baptized” to allow a Christian burial and ease the pain of the parents at least a little.

The Protestant Church of England did not approve of women baptizing babies, even in dire situations, and going against the will of the Church was dangerous. This made these women vulnerable. If a baby or mother died during childbirth, it was easy to blame the midwife, especially if that woman was disliked, poor, and willing to sell a charm or a curse on the side. Even more so if she was crossed and the man or woman that did her wrong then fell foul to disease or loss.

So they must be witches, they must be tried as such, and they must be put to death.

If only humanity would learn from history…

Sources:
https://www.history.com/topics/colonial-america/salem-witch-trials
https://www.history.com › topics › folklore › history-of-witches

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A big thanks to Karen Perkins! She’ll give away either a Kindle ebook or Audible audiobook of her historical fiction short story, Murder by Witchcraft, to three people who contribute a comment on my blog this week. I’ll choose the winner from among those who comment by Friday at 6 p.m. ET. Delivery is available worldwide.

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Did you like what you read? Learn about downloads, discounts, and special offers from Relevant History authors and Suzanne Adair. Join Suzanne Adair’s Patreon, and subscribe to her free newsletter.

What was That Anniversary Date Again?

Posted on December 3, 2019 by suzanneadairDecember 3, 2019

LAPD Common Council minutes from 21 Dec 1868 meeting

Historical mystery author Anne Louise Bannon reveals why L.A.P.D. personnel aren’t really sure how old the department is.

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Relevant History welcomes back historical mystery author Anne Louise Bannon, who writes the “Old Los Angeles” mystery series set in the 1870s and featuring Maddie Wilcox, and the “Freddie and Kathy Roaring ‘20s” series featuring Freddie Little and Kathy Briscow. Her most recent title is Death of the City Marshal. She and her husband live in Southern California with an assortment of critters. To learn more about Anne and her books, visit her web site and blog, and follow her on Facebook and Twitter.

*****

One of the most fun things about diving into the Research Rabbit Hole is that you never know what you’re going to find. Or not find.

For example, the founding of the Los Angeles Police Department. You’d think that it would be pretty straight-forward to identify the actual date of the department’s founding. The L.A.P.D. Museum cites 10 March 1869 as the date. The problem is there are no city council minutes with that date. There are minutes from 1 March 1869, which do not mention the police at all. There are minutes from 15 March 1869, which mention disciplining a couple police officers for “cruelty to a squaw.”

Even more interesting, there was a police committee dating back to 1855, and there is also a council minutes record from roughly the same time, designating the City Marshal as police chief, in addition to his other duties (which included collecting city taxes).

Even L.A.P.D. historians don’t seem to know where that 10 March date comes from. I know because they were emailing my husband to find out, and my husband forwarded the email to me for the fun of it.

Let me explain how my husband, Michael Holland, happens to be part of this. He’s the archivist for the City of Los Angeles. We never intended that he would become my personal research assistant, but, dang, it’s convenient. It was kind of his fault that happened. You see, his lecture on L.A.’s Zanja system (which was how they irrigated the city’s farms and vineyards before Mulholland raped the Owens Valley) got me started on my Old Los Angeles series, which I set in the 1870s for a lot of reasons I won’t go into here.

When is the real anniversary?
What this all boils down to is that the L.A.P.D. is celebrating the 150th anniversary of its founding this year—and we don’t really know when it was or what they’re counting from. There were police in L.A. before 1868, but we have reason to believe that they were volunteers. And we have a record in the City Council minutes from 21 December 1868 in which the mayor was to appoint “a City Police” made up of four men who would be employed by the city. So, my personal guess is that the mayor took his sweet time doing the official appointing and that whatever paperwork, if any there was, did not end up in the city records.

One of the men that the mayor recommended to be appointed as an officer, J.F. Dye, would play a part in a drama almost two years later that would result in the first officer killed in the line of duty. That victim was also the first person to be chief of the paid force, City Marshal William Warren. One thing that does make this so confusing is that the terms “Police Chief” and “City Marshal” appear interchangeably in the council minutes from 1855 on. This event became the basis for the second mystery in my “Old Los Angeles series,” Death of the City Marshal.

A rough place
Los Angeles was a pretty rough place from the 1850s on. The pueblo was founded in 1781, while California was still part of Mexico and under Spanish rule. When Mexico finally gained independence from Spain in 1821, it still controlled Alta California. Americans started arriving in the late 1840s and by 1848 had gained control of the state via the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo.

In 1849, gold was discovered up north, and that brought even more Americans to Los Angeles. These were mostly failed miners and other transients, resulting in a lot of violence, mostly bar fights. By the late 1860s and into 1870s, it was still very violent, but families were moving in, and that meant things were starting to calm down, alas, not by much.

By the fall of 1870, the police force had been expanded to six men. No surprise, the single most common petition made to the Common Council (as it was known at the time) was to request more police officers. The population had grown to around 5,700, still mostly men. Murders were down, but not by much, and one of the guys doing a fair amount of the killing was none other than City Marshal Warren. The other guy was probably Deputy Joseph Dye.

Warren and Dye had started out as friends. Warren needed someone especially tough to patrol the worst parts of town. The problem was that both were hotheads, prone to shooting first and asking questions later. They had a falling out and, on 31 October 1870, got into a gunfight over who had the rights to the bounty on a prostitute.

I did massage the history a little in Death of the City Marshal. In the novel, Warren does not die of the wounds sustained in the gunfight, although in real life, he did. You can’t really have a whodunit if you know whodunit. We know what really happened because the court records are a lot more complete, and there were a lot of witnesses to the affray, which was thoroughly covered in the newspapers of the day.

I’ll be diving into the Research Rabbit Hole again soon. It’s always so much fun to see what I can find. But sometimes, it’s what I don’t find that makes things fun.

*****

A big thanks to Anne Louise Bannon! She’ll give away an ebook copy of Death of the City Marshal to someone who contributes a comment on my blog this week. I’ll choose the winner from among those who comment by Friday at 6 p.m. ET. Delivery is available worldwide.

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Did you like what you read? Learn about downloads, discounts, and special offers from Relevant History authors and Suzanne Adair. Join Suzanne Adair’s Patreon, and subscribe to her free newsletter.

A Subtle Symbol of Tyranny and Patriotism

Posted on November 19, 2019 by suzanneadairNovember 19, 2019

Historical nonfiction author Kimberly Walters provides a window into the social and political life of 18th-century America—via tea.

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Relevant History welcomes back nonfiction author Kimberly K. Walters, who started reenacting as a hearth cook in 2009 as the Washington Headquarters housekeeper, modeled after Mrs. Elizabeth Thompson. A Book of Cookery by a Lady (2014) is a tribute to Mrs. Thompson. An avid horse woman, animal lover, and historian, Kim is a member of the Fincastle Chapter, the National Society Daughters of the American Revolution in Kentucky. At K. Walters at the Sign of the Gray Horse, she sells reproduction and historically inspired jewelry to care for her rescued and Colonial Williamsburg retired horses. Tea in 18th Century America was released on 17 July 2019. To learn more about her and her books, visit her web site, and follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

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Tea in 18th Century America focuses on the beverage in the American colonies during the eighteenth century. The only other person to write about this topic was Rodris Roth in the 1960s. Tea in 18th Century America is an expansion of a chapter of A Book of Cookery by a Lady, published in 2014.

In America, tea was much more than just a drink, and the book gives the reader insight into the importance of tea in the Colonies and early Federal eras. The book begins with an introduction to the history of tea, its journey to the shores of America tracing its ebbs and flows in popularity, and the cultural meaning attached to its use. Then, while giving credit to the research done by Rodris Roth, I added extensive research utilizing period newspapers, historic texts, period portraits, and prints to immerse the reader in their world.

Tea in pre- and post-revolutionary America was a symbol of tyranny or patriotism and helped create an American identity. At first, I did not want to go in-depth on the explanation of the legal acts and taxes on commodities that set the stage for Americans’ outrage over the monopoly held by the East India Tea Company on tea. However, I felt it an essential and necessary part of this story. The acts and taxes led to the drop in popularity of tea as revolutionary sentiments grew. To drink tea became a political act, although that seemed only to be the case for imported tea. The tea ceremony was still being practiced, albeit with herbal tea as a substitute. Also tea was still being ordered for import, but we do not know if it ever made it to those who ordered it.

Enjoying tea required all types of “material culture” items: teapots, spoons, tea chests, cups, saucers, slop bowls, specialized spoons such as “mote spoon” and “tea scoop” specifically for the tea caddy, and various other items that were markers of class and financial status. Taking tea was often a performative act in social settings, with rules to be followed and customs to be learned. Tea was so much more than a delightful hot beverage, and it was not only “taken” with sweets as a side dish.

I included chapters on when during the day people in eighteenth-century America drank tea, and the types that were popular. There are instructions on understanding eighteenth-century recipes as well as identifying foods that are perfect to prepare and eat when having your own tea party. From breads and small cakes to dessert collations—there are notes for each recipe to help prepare them. I have also included descriptions of how food was given color and even how medicinal teas were used to cure an ill.

A bonus chapter focuses on the life of Margaret Tilghman Carroll, widow of Charles Carroll “the Barrister.” While living at Mount Clare in Baltimore, Maryland, Mrs. Carroll kept an account book that included an inventory on tea items she owned, and she wrote recipes within it. That book is preserved in the Maryland Historical Society library.

*****

A big thanks to Kimberly Walters! She’ll give away one hardcover copy of Tea in 18th Century America to someone who contributes a comment on my blog this week. I’ll choose the winner from among those who comment by Friday at 6 p.m. ET. Delivery is available worldwide.

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Did you like what you read? Learn about downloads, discounts, and special offers from Relevant History authors and Suzanne Adair. Join Suzanne Adair’s Patreon, and subscribe to her free newsletter.

The Matrilineal Culture of the Algonquian Peoples of Eastern North Carolina

Posted on October 22, 2019 by suzanneadairOctober 21, 2019

William Denton discusses a major source of the culture clash between Algonquian people and the first Europeans in North Carolina.

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Relevant History welcomes William Denton: historian, author, and blogger. Born and raised in Eastern North Carolina, his areas of study include ancient and classical history, North Carolina history, education, and politics. William attended North Carolina State University, Liberty University, and Unicaf University, holds a BS in Religion, an MA in History, and a Ph.D. in Humanities. He is a member of the American Historical Association and the Association of Ancient Historians. His historical nonfiction, A History of Eastern North Carolina: Indigenous People, Colonization, and the Birth of a State, will be released next week on 28 October. William and his wife live in Nash County, North Carolina with their son. To learn more about him and his books, visit his web site.

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The coast of Eastern North Carolina was once home to an abundance of Algonquian tribes. The Iroquoian Tuscarora tribes were more influential within the Upper and Lower Inner Banks and Coastal Plain regions. These various Algonquian-speaking peoples occasionally formed loose affiliations and alliances, which, when paired with their overlapping cultural practices, sometimes blurred the lines of individual tribal identification.

For example, the historical mentions of the Weapemeoc Nation can lead to some confusion, as the nation consisted of an association of subdivided tribes named the Pasquotank, Perquimans, and Poteskeet. The Weapemeoc were also often referred to as the Yeopim Indians, presumably from the English’s difficulty in pronouncing the tribe’s Algonquian name.

As English incursions into native territory increased, social disruptions created various cultural shifts within the local tribes, further complicating the issue of identity. One of the most interesting aspects of Algonquian culture, however, has to do with the role that women played in the political and social structure of the tribes.

The role of women in Algonquian villages
The Algonquian nations of Eastern North Carolina possessed a beautiful and well-preserved culture that differed from that of the Europeans in key aspects. Some native tribes in the area were matrilineal, meaning that familial relationships and organization were centered around the mother, as compared to the Western patrilineal culture wherein family lineage was reckoned along the father’s ancestral line.

One of the best examples of this is the case of Manteo’s mother, who was said to be a leader within Croatoan society before being inadvertently killed by English colonists during a confusing conflict between the Croatoan and Roanoke tribes.

Even in tribes without strict matrilineal practices, women wielded considerable power and influence within the native Carolina populations. In the family unit, individual homes were owned by women, with a man marrying into a woman’s home and joining her family. Clan names were often passed down through the mother, as opposed to the Western tradition of paternal surnames.

The matrilineal customs of the native peoples perplexed the European colonists, as they frequently attempted to deal with only the male members of tribes in matters of trade and diplomacy. Sometimes this confusion over internal tribal power structures led to treaties and land agreements being delayed or misunderstood as the English insisted on dealing only with the men from native settlements, even though some tribal leaders were female.

It would be inaccurate, however, to label these native tribes of Eastern North Carolina as matriarchal. Though influence often passed along maternal lines, men also exercised political influence and tribal control. Hunting and fishing rights passed from father to son, and many tribes recognized a paternal line of authority within their village.

The founding of many villages centered around a common male ancestor. Shamans were almost always men and had considerable influence over chiefs and elders. If anything, the native populations had relatively balanced gender roles, especially when compared to the European society of the time.

The village homes were owned by women who helped manage affairs within the village, including cultivating crops and gathering resources. Men hunted and protected the settlement. Both men and women contributed to governing their villages.

The communal nature of indigenous political organization
In matters of politics, the native tribes were characterized by communal leadership rather than a formal system of government. While chiefs led local villages within a tribe, the majority of decisions were made by mutual consent of a council of some sort, usually made up of elders and well-respected members of the tribe, though decisions were made in the best interests of the entire village.

While the exact power structure varied from tribe-to-tribe, all Algonquian tribes shared common elements and traits. For example, unlike their Iroquoian counterparts, the Algonquians did not form strong alliances or political bonds with other Algonquian tribes, though they did collectively respond to military threats at times. The Algonquians were more interested in village-based relationships, with many clans who claimed a common ancestry gathering together in a local settlement.

The Algonquian tribes of Eastern North Carolina held time-honored customs and beliefs that predated the arrival of Europeans by centuries, if not millennia. As the English colonists began to expand into Native territory and establish trade relationships with the various tribes, the native populations began to suffer irreparable harm.

Disease, warfare, slavery, land theft, and the disruptive nature of the colonists’ technological advancements quickly reduced the Carolina Natives’ populations within a century of initial contact with the Europeans. Their cultures were also forever changed, with many tribes assimilating into the newly encountered European way of life and disappearing from the pages of history. The important role that women played in the social structure of the Algonquian people, however, is one historical element that must not be forgotten.

*****

A big thanks to William Denton! He’ll give away a copy of A History of Eastern North Carolina to someone who contributes a comment on my blog this week. I’ll choose the winner from among those who comment by Friday at 6 p.m. ET. Delivery is available within the U.S. only.

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The Historical in “Historical Fantasy/Steampunk”

Posted on October 8, 2019 by suzanneadairOctober 7, 2019

Historical fantasy/steampunk author Jeri Westerson describes the depth of historical research she used for her series.

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Relevant History welcomes back Los Angeles native Jeri Westerson, author of twelve Crispin Guest Medieval Noir Mystery novels, a series nominated for thirteen national awards from the Agatha to the Shamus. Jeri also writes two paranormal series: “Booke of the Hidden,” and the “Enchanter Chronicles Trilogy,” the first of which is The Daemon Device. (Watch the trailer here.) She has served two terms as president of the Southern California Chapter of Mystery Writers of America, twice president of the Orange County Chapter of Sisters in Crime, and as vice president for the Los Angeles Chapter of Sisters in Crime. To learn more about Jeri and her books, visit her web site (plus Enchanter Chronicles), and follow her on Facebook, Instagram, and Goodreads.

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It’s fantasy, you say. Why does it need to be historical? Can’t you just make it all up?

Not on my watch, missy.

Since I come from a background steeped in historical research for my Crispin Guest Medieval Noir Mysteries, it was natural to do the research needed for a Victorian setting for my fantasy/steampunk venture, The Daemon Device, book one in the Enchanter Chronicles Trilogy.

Having a foundation in the real history gives the magic system I’ve created a certain weight. It grounds the reader in the familiar before it branches off into its fantasy realm, a place where even fantastical machinery is powered by steam (hence the “steampunk” aspect) as well as a certain level of magic.

Steampunk is one of those “speculative fiction” sub-genres, usually tied in one way or another with a smattering of science fiction and sometimes a supernatural aspect, as well as alternate history.

My history is just a smidge “alternate” with Prince Albert surviving his brush with pneumonia to live a long life with Queen Victoria, and the fact that dirigibles are commonplace, chugging through the sooty skies of London. It’s all matter-of-fact, don’t you know. That’s just the backdrop to the fantasy part, the part with my magician, Leopold Kazsmer, the Great Enchanter, with his Jewish/Romani heritage he is none too proud of. A man who has learned through his study of the Kabbalah to summon Jewish daemons to help him perform real magic. “Daemons” as in the helpful kind as opposed to “demons”, the evil kind.

Daemons vs demons
And that, too, led to some research into what the interpretation of demons has been between the Judeo and Christian sides of scriptures. Jewish mysticism goes in some surprising directions. In Judaism, for instance, there is no Hell as Christians have defined it. No pitchfork Devil in charge of tormenting souls for all eternity. Instead, Jewish belief is that there cannot be eternal punishment for a finite life of sin. God just isn’t that vindictive. The writings talk of Gehenna—a place of waiting and working out one’s remorse for past sins (like purgatory)—and was the dwelling of the daemons. Its partner in another locale but Gehenna-adjacent is Sitra Achra, the place where all evil comes from.

The word “daemon” itself is a Latin version of a Greek word for benevolent spirits. It starts to get complicated from there between the Kabbalah (Jewish mysticism), the Talmud (commentary on Jewish civil and ceremonial law and legend), and translations between languages.

Mysticism meets magic
History sure gives you a choice of protagonists as well as antagonists, and plenty of real-world events to draw into your fiction, including Imperial Germany’s gearing up for the first run of the Master Race in World War I. It wasn’t hard to conjure up a Germanic order of world domination. Using dirigibles to do it? Hey, why not?

Added to that, is the world of the nineteenth century magician. If you look at some of the posters from the era, there is plenty of use of demon imagery, where even the magician Carter “Beats the Devil.”

In the mid-1800s in the United States, Ouija Boards were coming into vogue with a huge upsurge of interest in spiritualism (possibly due to the many deaths in the American Civil War). It was touted as a wholesome activity for the whole family! And why not? If Aunt Effie kicked the bucket before you could visit her deathbed, you could always call her up on the Spirit Board and say your good-byes then. By 1891, the first few advertisements hit the papers for “Ouija, the Wonderful Talking Board.”

I’ve always been fascinated by this time period of magicians, spiritualism, ghosts, and ectoplasm, where séances and the investigation into the next world compelled and enthralled, and science was still crossed with a certain level of mysticism, where maybe magic was a real possibility. Ask Sir Arthur Conan Doyle of Sherlock Holmes fame, a séance fancier, and who was gullible enough to believe a couple of little girls took pictures of fairies in their garden.

It’s a time where anything could happen. And anything can…with a little magic.

*****

A big thanks to Jeri Westerson! She’ll give away an ebook copy of The Daemon Device to someone who contributes a comment on my blog this week. I’ll choose the winner from among those who comment by Friday at 6 p.m. ET. Delivery is available worldwide.

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Regency England’s “Shampooing Surgeon”

Posted on September 24, 2019 by suzanneadairSeptember 24, 2019

Historical mystery author Libi Astaire describes how entrepreneur Sake Deen Mahomed took Regency England by storm with his exotic, Indian-ambiance vapor bathhouse.

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Relevant History welcomes back Libi Astaire, author of the award-winning Jewish Regency Mystery Series in which a wealthy widower, Mr. Ezra Melamed, turns sleuth to solve a series of crimes affecting Regency London’s Jewish community. In addition to her historical mystery series, Libi is the author of The Latke in the Library: Other Mystery Stories for Chanukah, a Chanukah-themed modern-day spoof of Agatha Christie mystery novels. To learn more about Libi and her books, visit her web site and follow her on Facebook.

*****

The words “Regency England” often conjure up an image of demure Austenesque young ladies dressed in muslin gowns, eyeing eligible young gentlemen across the dance floor. But the era had its share of colorful characters, too—and it was more diverse than people might suppose. My Jewish Regency Mystery series, for example, revolves around London’s thriving Jewish community. Another example can be found in the fourth volume of the series, The Vanisher Variations, where one of the characters, Sake Deen Mahomed, is from India.

Sake Deen was a real person. His rise to fame, if not fortune, followed a pattern typical of many outsiders who wished to partake of the many pleasures that 19th-century England had to offer. In the early 1800s, he opened an authentic Indian “vapour bathhouse” in Brighton, a watering hole that had become fashionable thanks to the Prince Regent. The future King George IV was so enamored of these vapor baths that he had one installed at the opulent residence he was building, the Brighton Pavilion. With the Prince Regent as a patron, Sake Deen’s success was assured.

“A cure to many diseases”
Mahomed first arrived in England in the late 1700s. Orphaned when young, he learned to be a surgeon while serving in the East India Company’s army. There he found a patron in the British army officer Captain Godfrey Evan Baker; when Baker returned to England, Sake Deen went with him.

During a brief stay in Ireland, he fell in love with a young Irish woman named Jane Daley. Jane’s parents opposed the marriage. So did the Anglican Church; marriages between Protestants and non-Protestants were illegal. To satisfy the church, Mahomed, a Muslim, converted. The Daley family was harder to appease, so the young couple eloped.

Mahomed’s initial business venture was the Hindoostane Coffee House, the first Indian restaurant in England. The food was praised, but the restaurant wasn’t profitable. The Mahomeds therefore moved to Brighton, where they opened a commercial bathhouse.

In addition to offering steam baths fragranced with exotic oils from India, one of Mahomed’s specialties was giving his clients a “shampoo,” which in those days meant a massage. In typical Regency medical style, he boasted that his shampoos were “a cure to many diseases”—rheumatism, gout, and even lame legs, among other ailments. Part of the establishment’s décor was a display of discarded crutches; their former owners had given them to Sake Deen as a gift, after they were cured and no longer needed them.

The vapor bathhouse was a great success. Soon, the wealthy and influential were flocking to the seaside resort to visit “Dr. Brighton, the Shampooing Surgeon,” as Mahomed was called, to take one of his famous shampooing cures.

Jewel in the crown
Although he had converted to Christianity and settled in England, Mahomed took pride in Indian culture and his role in introducing it to the British. He was lucky in that interest in all things Indian was on the rise, thanks to the expansion of the British Empire. The Brighton Pavilion, whose final design was heavily influenced by Indian architecture, was perhaps the most striking example of the craze.

He was also lucky that he had a flair for business and marketing—a skill that many of his fellow Indians living in England lacked. Indian women often came to England as house servants; when they were dismissed without pay from their position, they had few skills and nowhere to go. The men were often lascars, Indian sailors, escaping from the hardships of serving under cruel masters and a life at sea. They too found it hard to adjust and quickly fell into poverty.

Mahomed, though, came from the educated class and so he had an advantage; although unlike the British upper class he had no qualms about promoting himself. He savvily made sure his bathhouse was exotic enough to suggest the East, while respectable enough to appeal to a British dowager duchess. That’s why Lady Lennox, the rich noblewoman in The Vanisher Variations who disappears while taking a vapor bath, could visit the bathhouse without raising eyebrows. While Sake Deen took care of the male visitors, his wife Jane oversaw the shampooing of the women.

But by the end of the 1830s, Mahomed’s star was fading. As the flamboyant Regency years transitioned into the staider Victorian era that was to follow, some objected to his overly enthusiastic marketing tactics. Others whispered that he had committed the gravest sin of all; his bathhouse was woefully outdated and boring.

When he passed away in 1851, having reached his ninth decade, few noticed. But for those interested in Regency England, Sake Deen Mahomed remains a prime example of the unexpected diversity that existed during this always entertaining era.

*****

A big thanks to Libi Astaire! She’ll give away a Kindle ebook copy of The Vanisher Variations to someone who contributes a comment on my blog this week. I’ll choose the winner from among those who comment by Friday at 6 p.m. ET. Delivery is available worldwide.

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Did you like what you read? Learn about downloads, discounts, and special offers from Relevant History authors and Suzanne Adair. Subscribe to Suzanne’s free newsletter. And look for my Patreon, coming soon!

Pedestrianism: Fad Sport in Victorian America

Posted on September 10, 2019 by suzanneadairSeptember 10, 2019

Historical mystery author Steve Bartholomew reveals a peculiar Victorian precursor to Olympic speed walking.

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Relevant History welcomes back Steve Bartholomew, who grew up in San Francisco but has lived other places such as Mexico City and New York. Now he holes up on the shores of a lake in northern California, away from crowds. He’s been writing since about age nine, published science fiction and some non-fiction, but now is mainly interested in history and historical fiction. He’s always loved history, but only began writing about it when introduced to a sidewheel steamship that sank in 1865, loaded with treasure. The more history Steve looks at, the more treasures he finds. To learn more about him and his books, visit his web site, and follow him on Facebook.

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I write fiction because I like to tell stories. I read about history because I like to read good stories. I don’t mean official history texts, of course. I often dig through old magazines and newspapers. Sometimes I find old neglected books in used book stores, maybe books no one else has read for a hundred years. The Internet has made it possible to scan thousands of newspapers and books published a century ago. Now and then I start looking for something in particular and find something else altogether. That’s how I discovered the walking game.

I was researching streetcars for my latest book, The Driver, set in 1877 San Francisco. It’s a murder mystery; the hero and prime suspect is a streetcar driver. Thus, I was looking through an 1877 issue of the Daily Alta California for information about crime news, robberies, murder, and so on. The Alta is a great source for that sort of thing. My eye was caught by the following clip:



New Advertisements

Pedestrianism Extraordinary!

Miss Kate Lawrence

will walk

100 Miles in 28 hours,

at

Pacific Hall, Bush Street,

Beginning at 8 o'clock on

Tuesday evening August 21,

and ending at midnight on the 22nd.

admission 50 cents

“Pedestrianism extraordinary?” What the heck was that? Admission fifty cents? That would be a high price in 1877, when you could buy a good restaurant meal for a dime.

Naturally, I had to investigate further. My first thought was to wonder if Miss Kate Lawrence was allowed to take bathroom breaks or refreshment during her 28 hours of walking. I don’t know what Pacific Hall was like, but I assume it had some sort of track, either curved or rectangular. Why would anyone want to do this, anyway? And why pay money to watch?

I checked out other papers for various dates and from different cities. Here’s one from the Sacramento Union, 1879:



Weston has succeeded in walking 550 miles, and has won a bet and a belt, and the questionable honor of having the particulars of his feat telegraphed all over the world. The passion for pedestrianism which this affair illustrates is neither more nor less respectable than any other of the popular fancies which succeed one another in an interminable procession. The fact that Weston has walked so many miles is an utterly useless fact. It has no bearing upon anything which can improve the condition of the human race. As an amusement pedestrianism is of the mildest. We do not believe that these spasms of athleticism produce any permanent good in the world, even in encouraging bodily exercise...

Newspapers in those days often drew a thin line between reporting and editorial. This fellow named Weston was apparently a leading athlete in his sport, which the above writer found to be “utterly useless.”
Some athletes achieved the feat of walking a thousand miles without stopping. I wonder what brand of shoes they were wearing? A wonderful opportunity for product placement. But of course no one had yet thought of that.

“Pedestrianism” was a real thing in the 19th century. There were efforts to revive the sport (if you can call it that) as late as the 1920’s. Apparently it was replaced by something called race walking, or speed walking, which became an Olympic event. So those of us in these modern times are deprived of the opportunity of paying fifty cents to watch a lady walk around in circles for 28 hours.

Of course, there were a lot of other things going on in San Francisco in 1877. It was the year of the city’s worst race riot, when a few malcontents tried to burn down Chinatown. There were murders and bank robberies. Black Bart was robbing Wells Fargo stagecoaches. There were bank failures and threats of war. Watching a lady walk around in circles might have seemed like a nice way to get away from it all. It could have been almost as exciting as watching paint dry. Maybe we should consider bringing back the walking game.

*****

A big thanks to Steve Bartholomew!

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