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Showing posts from October, 2011

Souling

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Your Regency characters might not be able to go trick-or-treating, but the next day they could go souling. All Saints' Day survived the birth of the Anglican church and was still a tradition in many rural locations. The day was dedicated to commemorating the dead. Many households would prepare soul cakes to hand out (the gifting of food was good for the soul, and traditionally the eating of them was supposed to help the soul they were dedicated to out of purgatory, and even though the concept of purgatory had been rejected, the tradition survived). They would also have apples, hot drinks, and small coins to distribute. The roving participants (mostly children) would go door to door in the village singing their souling song and partaking of the day's bounty .Some households may have chosen to bake cakes to be distributed to the poor (the local workhouse for example) rather than hosting visitors. I love putting little details like this into my books. One of my favorite sources is

Ambrose Reed

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Ambrose Reed In reading this site or through research of your own, you've no doubt realized that the history (and for the most part, the present) of Mill Creek Hundred is, not to put too fine a point on it, rather white. That's not to say that there were no non-white residents in the hundred, however. For example, in 1800 there were 85 free blacks and 82 slaves (for comparison, there were 2,027 white residents), and in 1840 there were 311 free blacks and 43 slaves (2,789 white). After the Civil War and the passing of the Thirteenth Amendment, there continued to be free black residents in the hundred, mostly working as hired farm labor, although some did own their own properties. And while it's difficult to find much information on most of the area's black residents, there is one man we do know a little about, although not as much as I had hoped. In his excellent 1976 book Hockessin: A Pictorial History , author Joseph Lake briefly mentions the story of Ambrose Reed in

George Washington's Riotous Spirits

Riotous spirits – and George Washington? Relax, I’m talking about how George Washington used his era’s relaxed attitudes toward alcohol to advance his career. Back in the eighteenth century , fresh water wasn’t always clean. In fact, it was often muddy, slimy – or worse. Drinking alcoholic beverages was healthier. Alcohol cured the sick and strengthened the weak. Women in labor received a shot or two to relieve their discomfort. Social occasions – such as christenings, weddings, funerals, trials, even craftsmen’s work – were lubricated by the delicious spirits. People drank their way through the day. John Adams started his day with hard cider, Patrick Henry smuggled wine and served home brew to guests while governor of Virginia, and Samuel Adams managed his father’s brewery. Frankly, most didn’t care what anyone else thought of how much they consumed. Social drinking was simply a necessity of life – especially when it came to elections. In Colonial America, elections were hel

Music: the Food of Love?

If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die. ~ Duke Orsino, Twelfth Night , I, i. 1-2 Hint: in the Elizabethan era, "die" was also a euphemistic synonynm for orgasm. But sometimes a banana was just a banana. And die just meant die. When it comes to a little background music, do you adore it to the point of ecstasy -- or is all that cacophony killing you? Inspiration? Or distraction? Much of the writing we hoydens do, and read, is the food of love, whether fiction or nonfiction as it relates to the lives of our characters. And each of us has our process as we work, or chill and enjoy a pleasure read. Is music part of yours, and how does it feed your creative appetite? Do you listen to music as you work? Does it have to be from the era in which your story is set in order for you to feel immersed in your narrative as you craft it, or do you have favorite symphonies, tracks, or Broadway and film scores that get

243 13th / 1763 Vermont Part I: 1884-1943

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Like the Joseph Buchanan house , 243 13th Street was built on land that was once part of the Lafferty Farm. When it was platted it 1867, it was owned by Clement Lafferty, a grandson of the farm's original French settler, Louis Vessiere dit Laferte. The house would be built on the south portion of lot 70 of outlot 1 of the former farm. On January 11, 1872, this lot was purchased by Nicholas Till for $425.00. He probably bought the parcel on a land contract, since the city directories listed him as living on Thirteenth Street since 1868. However, the house he lived in was 245 13th Street, on the north half of the lot. 243 13th--the subject of this post--would not be built for more than a decade. The vacant lot marked by the "X" in this 1885 atlas of Detroit is where 243 13th Street would be built--which it in fact was by the time the atlas was published. Note the Tappan Union School one block to the north. Nicholas Till was born in the German state of Baden around 1

The Robinson-Highfield House

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Once in a while, we get really lucky and we'll have a great deal of information about a particular site -- who built it and when, who lived there, and a nice pile of background information about the residents. This ain't one of those sites. The Robinson-Highfield House (AFART note below) , located on the northwest corner of Lancaster Pike and Loveville Road, has several very frustrating holes and ambiguities in its story. Instead of continuing to bang my head against this particular wall, I'll just lay out what I have been able to figure out about it, as well as what I haven't. And while we do know a good bit about this property, this is one of those instances where I'll have to accept that this is just a starting point for investigation into the house and its owners, and not a comprehensive history. The first of the mysteries surrounding the Robinson-Highfield House is also the most basic -- When was it built? A 1999 DelDOT survey, which included information from

Lolita Fashion

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Lolita fashion is a fashion subculture originating in the 1970's in Japan and is based on Victorian-era clothing as well as costumes from the Rococo period. The style has expanded greatly. There are Gothic Lolitas, Sweet Lolitas, Punk, Classical-Aristocrat Lolitas etc., but what I find most interesting is the decidedly historical flare to the outfits AND and that the Lolita look began primarily as one of modesty. That's right, modesty. The whole looks seems to have little to do with the literary Lolita theme revolving around a middle-age man falling in love with a 12 year old girl. Or does it? The original Lolita fashion silhouette is of a knee length skirt or dress with a 'cupcake' shape assisted by petticoats, but has expanded into various different types of garments including corsets and floor lengths skirts. Blouses, knee high socks or stockings and headdresses are also worn. Lolita fashion has evolved into several different sub styles and has a subculture that is p

The Magic of Masquerades

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It's autumn - rose gold light, pumpkin spice lattes, cuddly sweaters (well, maybe not yet in the San Francisco Bay Area, where we're having some of our warmest weather of the year). And Halloween is just around the corner. It was always one of my favorite holidays growing up, not for the candy but for the magic of masquerading as someone else (inevitably a favorite historical or fictional character) for the day. Thinking about Halloween made me think about masquerade balls. I've always loved them in books. Costumes allow characters to highlight their personalities or to masquerade as someone quite different. And masks allow for all manner of intrigue, romantic or otherwise. My mind tens to run to suspense when it comes to intrigue. My idea for my book The Mask of Night began with the image of a masked man floating, stabbed to death, in a fountain, and my masked heroine reaching into the water to examine the body. Masked balls were a frequent form of entertainment at the Co

Hoops, False Rumps, and Other Padding

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Most people know what “panniers” are (the wide skirt supports we all think of when we picture Marie Antoinette in her WIDE formal gowns). During the Georgian era in England, they were simply known as “hoops” and they took many forms, from the full, round hoops of the 1730s (very Scarlet O’Hara, though 100+ years earlier) to the wide, but flat hoops of the 1760s (which are collapsible, so the lady could lift them, tuck them under her elbows, step through the doorway, and then let them back down), to the smaller “pocket hoops” of the 1770s. To the left, you can see a pair made of bent willow cane. What a lot of people aren’t familiar with are the false rumps of the 1780s. These could be stuffed, like a cushion, or they could be made of cork. The use of cork led to some rather amusing cartoons of women being used as shuttlecocks or racing down the Thames balanced on them like tiny boats. To the right is my favorite, The New Rigatta. In the late 1790s, when gowns go Grecian, there was stil

Origins of the Name "Kiamensi"

This won't be a particularly long post, but I figured I'd address the subject now, since Bill Harris' recent comment got me thinking about it. There have already been two separate sites featured on this blog that contain the name "Kiamensi" -- the Kiamensi Woolen Mill and the Kiamensi Spring Water Company . On top of that, Kiamensi was adopted as the name of the community that sprung up around the woolen mill, as well as the B&O Railroad depot nearby. And of course, it survives today as the name of the road that goes through the area, and in the name of several neighborhoods. But where did this sometimes tricky to spell and pronounce word come from? If you said, "From the Indians," you'd be right. It does in fact derive from a Native American word, one of the few still to be found in Mill Creek Hundred ("Hockessin" being another). However, like much associated with the region's first inhabitants, some of the details are not quite c

The Kiamensi Spring Water Company

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 Kiamensi Spring Water Bottling Plant, 1908  One of the most heavily mocked (at least, by me) business models of the past few decades was bottled water. Only in late 20th Century America, so I thought, could a company expect people to pay good money for something they can get almost free at home. As it turns out though, bottled water is now a nearly $10 billion industry in the US alone (although sales have sagged a bit the last few years). It also turns out that it was far from a new idea -- our area was ahead of the curve by almost a century. In 1907, a new company was formed -- The Kiamensi Spring Water Company -- and began shipping its product from its source on the east bank of Red Clay Creek. As one might expect, there are, in the vicinity of Brandywine Springs Park, quite a few natural springs. One, a chalybeate spring, was the impetus for a resort hotel , and later, an amusement park . Most of the springs in the area, though, are clear, clean, and fresh (or at least, they were

Curricles, with Candice Hern

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Many thanks to the History Hoydens for allowing me to guest blog today. I don't have a blog of my own (not sure I want one), but sometimes I just like to talk history with like-minded folks.  So here I am. I have a thing for carriages. I don't know why.  I assume they were uncomfortable and bone-rattling, no matter how well-sprung.  I would not particularly like to have to rely on one to get around.  And yet, somehow I love them.  I love picturing my characters seated in them, or driving them.  Especially the sporting vehicles.  The sports cars of their day. A couple of years ago I had the opportunity to visit the Carriage Museum in Maidstone.  Greg and I were the only ones there, with the caretaker at our disposal, patiently answering all my questions.  I was in hog heaven.  I *so* wanted to be able to climb into various carriages, to know what it felt like, to imagine myself in a Regency gown trying gracefully to get in and out without showing too much leg.  As accommodating

Home Sweet Home

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As I write this, the exterior of my house is being power-washed. Streams of water are flushing down the cobwebs from under the eves, washing away insect trails, swooshing away ten years’ accumulation of dust that muddies the pristine blue paint. Yesterday, my housekeeper scrubbed the sinks, vacuumed the carpets, dusted the bookshelves, and generally blew a cleansing air through the place. She does this once a month, and inbetween times I am careful not to stain the kitchen sink with blueberry juice or let grease accumulate around my gas stove burners. I have an easy life. My mother, however, and my grandmother and my great-grandmother worked like slaves to keep their houses clean. This wasn’t easy on ranches and farms, and even in town there was always cleaning to be done. Each year in the Fall, the cleaning got serious. Mrs. Caroline Dunwoody was the cleaning expert of the 19th century, and this is what she recommends for Fall Cleaning: 1. Clean and clear out cellar and attic. 2

Hollywood and Shakespeare

Has anyone else been watching the edgy trailer for a new movie about Shakespeare? But this time, Hollywood isn't thinking about his private life and romances. Oh no. The movie, Anonymous worries about his qualifications as An Author. "Was Shakespeare A Fraud?" Hmm. As an author myself, this topic makes me nervous. As a historian and a reader, I'm totally fascinated. What if William Shakespeare didn't write all the plays that still grip millions of people? What if he was only the front man for a far better writer? Why would that more talented man choose never to claim ownership of such brilliant work? This movie suggests one answer, based on the era's politics. (Vanessa Redgrave as Elizabeth I? Wow!) Plus, the sets and costumes look awesome, something I'm always a sucker for. I'll definitely be in line to see this movie. You can watch the trailer here . Readers, is there an author whose life you'd like to see made into a movie? Authors,

The Adventurous Hettie Dickey

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Sometimes I think we develop this picture of Victorians as being very staid, never-step-out-of-line, do-what-they're-told kind of people, especially Victorian women (the occasional Lizzie Borden notwithstanding). And while that certainly was not always the case, it probably was more often than not, which is what makes a story like Hettie Dickey's newsworthy at the time, whereas now she would just be that weird cousin that no one wants to talk about. The first time I ran across Hettie Dickey was this newspaper article from 1895 , which details the young Stanton woman's trek halfway across the country to Chicago earlier in the year. You can read the article in its entirety, but I'll try to briefly summarize it here. In the early afternoon of March 24, the 26 year old Hettie donned her brother's suit (which she had stowed away in the woodshed), and walked from her house in Stanton towards the B&O station at Kiamensi. From there, she walked westward along the tracks