It's almost that time of year again! The 19th annual Art in the Garden will be held on September 9, 2012 (it's a Saturday) from 2-6 pm. in Madeleine's Garden at the LeMoyne House! Tickets are $20 and can be purchased at the gate or ahead by calling 724-225-6740. This year we'll showcase original artwork by 60 renowned artists for affordable prices. Each artist will feature three pieces and countless bins of their prints.
This casual event is a unique blending of art, music and nature. Guests will enjoy strolling through our lush garden while viewing art, listening to music and enjoying yummy refreshments! Children under 12 are admitted for free! They are able to visit the Kid's Korner while parents can enjoy the rest of the festivities.
Art in the Garden is our most successful fundraiser for the Washington County Historical Society. Proceeds from the sold artwork will be donated back to the historical society. We really hope you can make it out!
Friday, August 17, 2012
Thursday, August 16, 2012
The Wyit Sprowls Bridge
Our public relations intern, Kelsey Bradley wrote this piece for the upcoming Focus. From East Finley Pennsylvania, she is very familiar with the covered bridges in the area.
The Wyit Sprowls Bridge is one the of the better-known covered bridges in Washington County. In fact, it is one of Claysville, Pennslvania's crown jewels, making the list of the few attractions to visit while in Claysville. The bridge is 43 feet long and 11.6 feet wide, a little larger than most covered bridges built during that time. This particular bridge was built with a "Queen Truss," to accommodate the larger length. While it is unknown who built the bridge, the bridge was named after Wyit Sprowls, the man who owned the surronding property.
The Wyit Sprowls was originally built in 1886, but was torn down and reconstructed in East Finley park in 1998, over 200 years later! Construction ended in 1999 and was completely renovated which ensured the construction of the bridge was safe enough for cars to pass over. When it was rebuilt, the bridge was constructed with two windows on each side, rather than the original three. The bridge was built with the same truss style and as a result of keeping the design the same, it is one of the only covered bridges left in Washington County that can still be driven over.
Covered bridges were built with the similiar design and color scheme because most towns did not have experienced builders, and this design was simple enough for almost anyone to complete. Another reason the design stayed the same is because the bridges resembled a barn, making it easier for animals to want to cross it. A roof was placed over the bridge because it kept it from caving under the rain, snow and ice, which made them last much longer than regular bridges.
The Wyit Sprowls Bridge is one of twenty-three covered bridges still standing in Washington County today. Pennsylvania as a whole is home to 227 covered bridges, which is the most covered bridges in the United States!! As a result of having so many bridges, we celebrate the Covered Bridge festival, taking place September 15-16, the Wyit Sprowls being one of the locations it will be held!
The Wyit Sprowls Bridge is one the of the better-known covered bridges in Washington County. In fact, it is one of Claysville, Pennslvania's crown jewels, making the list of the few attractions to visit while in Claysville. The bridge is 43 feet long and 11.6 feet wide, a little larger than most covered bridges built during that time. This particular bridge was built with a "Queen Truss," to accommodate the larger length. While it is unknown who built the bridge, the bridge was named after Wyit Sprowls, the man who owned the surronding property.
The Wyit Sprowls was originally built in 1886, but was torn down and reconstructed in East Finley park in 1998, over 200 years later! Construction ended in 1999 and was completely renovated which ensured the construction of the bridge was safe enough for cars to pass over. When it was rebuilt, the bridge was constructed with two windows on each side, rather than the original three. The bridge was built with the same truss style and as a result of keeping the design the same, it is one of the only covered bridges left in Washington County that can still be driven over.
Covered bridges were built with the similiar design and color scheme because most towns did not have experienced builders, and this design was simple enough for almost anyone to complete. Another reason the design stayed the same is because the bridges resembled a barn, making it easier for animals to want to cross it. A roof was placed over the bridge because it kept it from caving under the rain, snow and ice, which made them last much longer than regular bridges.
The Wyit Sprowls Bridge is one of twenty-three covered bridges still standing in Washington County today. Pennsylvania as a whole is home to 227 covered bridges, which is the most covered bridges in the United States!! As a result of having so many bridges, we celebrate the Covered Bridge festival, taking place September 15-16, the Wyit Sprowls being one of the locations it will be held!
Friday, July 6, 2012
Last Class in 1948: Seminary Closes it's Doors
Another great story from Harriet Branton! The Washington Female Seminary was a large part of LeMoyne history, and we have yet to put a story up about it on our blog page! This particular post talks about the final days of the Seminary in 1948. The last building was torn down last year to build another building for W&J College.
After teh retirement of Mrs. Sarah R. Hanna as principal of the Washington Female Seminary in 1874, the school continued to prosper under the capable administration of the new principal, Miss Nancy Sherrard. From the pupil's point of view, however, boarding school life in the late 1870s was not without its hazards. Illness sometimes created problems, as reported by one anonymous sufferer who wrote of a rather unusual experience. One day a student became ill with the flu (or a severe cold) and Miss Sherrard was summoned. The principal confirmed the diagnosis and bustled away to prepare her favorite remedy. She soon returned with an assistant bearing what was described as "about a peck of smoking corn in one hand and a gallon, more or less, of catnip tea in the other."
The patient was expected to consume both, and meekly did so; she was then left in peace and quiet to await the results. Soon she had perspired so profusely that the bedding was soaked. Some of classmates who dropped in to check on her were horrified; they resourcefully raided an empty bedroom for clean sheets to change the bed. Miss Sherrard, of course, found out and was sure that her patient would have a relapse; fortunately, however, she recovered nicely and, with the threat of another corn sweat hanging over her, she luckily never had another cold during the remainder of her stay at the seminary.
By the mid-80s the seminary was graduating an average of 20 students annually; in 1884 there were 140 pupils in attendance, 60 of whom were boarders. To keep pace with the steady growth of the institution, the trustees decided to construct a new wing for the building. Work was begun in June 1883 and on February 21, 1884, the dedication of the facility took place. The ceremonies were attended by about 500 people who afterwards inspected the 30 rooms of the new four-story wing. Construction costs came to a little more than $11,000; the total value of the building and grounds was then estimated to be about $25,000.
The completion of the new wing was especially welcome to the prep school youngsters. For some years prior to 1884 the little girls in the preparatory division had had their classes on the second floor of a small frame structure behind the main building. They had dubious distinction of being labeled the "wash house preps," because the ground floor of the little building contained the laundry facilities. Never mind, they did have a good time; more than one alumna wrote of her memories of those days- of being seated on great benches with desks much too large for small bodies and short legs, while the odors of hot suds from the laundry below permeated the whole building. The "unimportant juveniles" did have soem fun, however, since the hinged tops of the huge black desks made very convenient barricades for little people to dive behind and munch off bits of taffy or other goodies. Other fond memories included recollections of benches in the assembly hall which were so wide it was hard to sit properly; kittens which were smuggled into morning devotions, and one lively scholarwho was occasionally prompted at Sunday services to leap from pew to pew from the back of the church to the front.
Mis Sherrard's successful and competent administration came to an end in 1897. She had served with distinction for 23 years. Her relationship with the faculty had been harmonious; teacheres and pupils alike found her always ready with wise counsel, hearty sympathy, and cooperation. As a disciplinarian she was firm and just, and she did all in her power to create a homelike atmosphere at the school. Like Mrs. Hanna before her, Miss Sherrard was credited with maintaining the standards of the seminary and insuring its success. The trustees were sorry to see her go when they approved her request for retirement in 1897.
Miss Sherrard was followed, from 1897-1901, by Mrs. Martha McMillian who worked untiringly to increase the prestige of the school. It was during her term as principal that a college preparatory course was introduced and a second building was added to the seminary complex. Elice Mercur, a successful Pittsburgh architect, was selected by the trustees to design the new building. Since the mid-80s she had made quite a reputation for herself in a profession which in those days belonged almost exclusively to men. A member of a distinguished family from Towanda, Bradford County, Miss Mercur already had ties with Washington County. Her uncle, Ulysses Mercur, an 1842 graduate of Jefferson College, had studied law with T.M.T. McKennan and become a well-known member of the Pennsylvanian bar. From 1883 to 1888 he was Chief Justice of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court.
Miss Mercur had studied abroad and had also attended the Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia. Among her commissions were Episcopal churches in Pittsburgh and Johnsonburg, Pa., as well as the Women's Building for the International Cotten States Exposition in Atlanta, Ga. The new seminary building, constructed in 1897 at a cost of about $20,000, it was a four-story brick structure with classrooms, an assembly hall, and a gymnasium. Miss Mercur must have become a familiar figure in Washington during its construction, for it was her custom to inspect the laying of the foundation and personally to direct the workmen "from the first stone laid to the last nail driven." Today this building, now known as McIlvaine Hall, belongs to W&J College.
Financial woes, which had never appeared to be much of a problem to the seminary during the 19th century, began to plague the administration about the time of the first World War. In 1922 a most ambitious fund-raising project was undertaken jointly by trustees and alumnae. For some years there had been a move afoot to locate the school away from the central part of town. Trinity Hall Military Academy, which had closed its doors just 15 years earlier, was regarded by the Alumnae Association as an ideal site for the seminary. The 36-acre campus with its administration building, dormitory addition, and other buildings was for sale. The trustees secured an option for the property and recommended a fund-raising campaign for $100,000 to be used to purchase the site and erect a new building.
The campaign began with much optimism. Brochures pointed out that, since the seminary was partially self-sustaining in 1922, its future would be assured if it could raise this amount for the Trinity Hall project. Newspaper articles described various fund raising plans and the drive seemed to be well under way. For some reason, however, the goal was never achieved and the project was abandoned. Finally in 1925 the Trinity Hall property was purchased by several townships surrounding the city of Washington for the establishment of a joint high school. As Trinity High School, this public institution today occupies the handsome campus which had once been considered as a home for the Washington Seminary.
So the seminary continued to operate in its two buildings at the corner of Maiden and Lincoln Streets. Its rules were still quite strict and there were three departments of four years each- primary, intermediate, and academic. Students in the academic department could sign up for a college preparatory or general course. By the early 1930sfinancial pressures and increased competition from the growing number of public high schools created so many difficulties that in 1932 the trustees voted to close the school. Through the efforts of a devoted faculty and a determined principal, however, the seminary reopened almost immediately as a day school and hunior college and it continued to operate on this basis for another 16 years. Accreditation and financial problems continued to plague the administration and after the second World War the pressures became more intense. The school property had been sold to W&J in 1939; so, homeless and without funds, the trustees gave up the struggle for good in December 1947. The 112th commencement in June 1948 was the last.
After teh retirement of Mrs. Sarah R. Hanna as principal of the Washington Female Seminary in 1874, the school continued to prosper under the capable administration of the new principal, Miss Nancy Sherrard. From the pupil's point of view, however, boarding school life in the late 1870s was not without its hazards. Illness sometimes created problems, as reported by one anonymous sufferer who wrote of a rather unusual experience. One day a student became ill with the flu (or a severe cold) and Miss Sherrard was summoned. The principal confirmed the diagnosis and bustled away to prepare her favorite remedy. She soon returned with an assistant bearing what was described as "about a peck of smoking corn in one hand and a gallon, more or less, of catnip tea in the other."
The patient was expected to consume both, and meekly did so; she was then left in peace and quiet to await the results. Soon she had perspired so profusely that the bedding was soaked. Some of classmates who dropped in to check on her were horrified; they resourcefully raided an empty bedroom for clean sheets to change the bed. Miss Sherrard, of course, found out and was sure that her patient would have a relapse; fortunately, however, she recovered nicely and, with the threat of another corn sweat hanging over her, she luckily never had another cold during the remainder of her stay at the seminary.
By the mid-80s the seminary was graduating an average of 20 students annually; in 1884 there were 140 pupils in attendance, 60 of whom were boarders. To keep pace with the steady growth of the institution, the trustees decided to construct a new wing for the building. Work was begun in June 1883 and on February 21, 1884, the dedication of the facility took place. The ceremonies were attended by about 500 people who afterwards inspected the 30 rooms of the new four-story wing. Construction costs came to a little more than $11,000; the total value of the building and grounds was then estimated to be about $25,000.
The completion of the new wing was especially welcome to the prep school youngsters. For some years prior to 1884 the little girls in the preparatory division had had their classes on the second floor of a small frame structure behind the main building. They had dubious distinction of being labeled the "wash house preps," because the ground floor of the little building contained the laundry facilities. Never mind, they did have a good time; more than one alumna wrote of her memories of those days- of being seated on great benches with desks much too large for small bodies and short legs, while the odors of hot suds from the laundry below permeated the whole building. The "unimportant juveniles" did have soem fun, however, since the hinged tops of the huge black desks made very convenient barricades for little people to dive behind and munch off bits of taffy or other goodies. Other fond memories included recollections of benches in the assembly hall which were so wide it was hard to sit properly; kittens which were smuggled into morning devotions, and one lively scholarwho was occasionally prompted at Sunday services to leap from pew to pew from the back of the church to the front.
Mis Sherrard's successful and competent administration came to an end in 1897. She had served with distinction for 23 years. Her relationship with the faculty had been harmonious; teacheres and pupils alike found her always ready with wise counsel, hearty sympathy, and cooperation. As a disciplinarian she was firm and just, and she did all in her power to create a homelike atmosphere at the school. Like Mrs. Hanna before her, Miss Sherrard was credited with maintaining the standards of the seminary and insuring its success. The trustees were sorry to see her go when they approved her request for retirement in 1897.
Miss Sherrard was followed, from 1897-1901, by Mrs. Martha McMillian who worked untiringly to increase the prestige of the school. It was during her term as principal that a college preparatory course was introduced and a second building was added to the seminary complex. Elice Mercur, a successful Pittsburgh architect, was selected by the trustees to design the new building. Since the mid-80s she had made quite a reputation for herself in a profession which in those days belonged almost exclusively to men. A member of a distinguished family from Towanda, Bradford County, Miss Mercur already had ties with Washington County. Her uncle, Ulysses Mercur, an 1842 graduate of Jefferson College, had studied law with T.M.T. McKennan and become a well-known member of the Pennsylvanian bar. From 1883 to 1888 he was Chief Justice of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court.
Miss Mercur had studied abroad and had also attended the Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia. Among her commissions were Episcopal churches in Pittsburgh and Johnsonburg, Pa., as well as the Women's Building for the International Cotten States Exposition in Atlanta, Ga. The new seminary building, constructed in 1897 at a cost of about $20,000, it was a four-story brick structure with classrooms, an assembly hall, and a gymnasium. Miss Mercur must have become a familiar figure in Washington during its construction, for it was her custom to inspect the laying of the foundation and personally to direct the workmen "from the first stone laid to the last nail driven." Today this building, now known as McIlvaine Hall, belongs to W&J College.
Financial woes, which had never appeared to be much of a problem to the seminary during the 19th century, began to plague the administration about the time of the first World War. In 1922 a most ambitious fund-raising project was undertaken jointly by trustees and alumnae. For some years there had been a move afoot to locate the school away from the central part of town. Trinity Hall Military Academy, which had closed its doors just 15 years earlier, was regarded by the Alumnae Association as an ideal site for the seminary. The 36-acre campus with its administration building, dormitory addition, and other buildings was for sale. The trustees secured an option for the property and recommended a fund-raising campaign for $100,000 to be used to purchase the site and erect a new building.
The campaign began with much optimism. Brochures pointed out that, since the seminary was partially self-sustaining in 1922, its future would be assured if it could raise this amount for the Trinity Hall project. Newspaper articles described various fund raising plans and the drive seemed to be well under way. For some reason, however, the goal was never achieved and the project was abandoned. Finally in 1925 the Trinity Hall property was purchased by several townships surrounding the city of Washington for the establishment of a joint high school. As Trinity High School, this public institution today occupies the handsome campus which had once been considered as a home for the Washington Seminary.
So the seminary continued to operate in its two buildings at the corner of Maiden and Lincoln Streets. Its rules were still quite strict and there were three departments of four years each- primary, intermediate, and academic. Students in the academic department could sign up for a college preparatory or general course. By the early 1930sfinancial pressures and increased competition from the growing number of public high schools created so many difficulties that in 1932 the trustees voted to close the school. Through the efforts of a devoted faculty and a determined principal, however, the seminary reopened almost immediately as a day school and hunior college and it continued to operate on this basis for another 16 years. Accreditation and financial problems continued to plague the administration and after the second World War the pressures became more intense. The school property had been sold to W&J in 1939; so, homeless and without funds, the trustees gave up the struggle for good in December 1947. The 112th commencement in June 1948 was the last.
Friday, June 29, 2012
David Bradford Wants YOU!
It's about that time again, the Whiskey Rebellion Festival will be here before you know it! On July 26-28 in several locations in Washington County, there is something for everyone to enjoy! Food, music, historical street and re-enactments, there is something different going on each day and you won't want to miss it!
Here's some history behind the Whiskey Rebellion, and why we celebrate this exciting time in Pennsylvania history. This information comes from the Whiskey Rebellion Festival website:
The Whiskey Rebellion was originally was a tax protest in the early years of the United States, starting in 1791. During George Washington's presidency, farmers who sold their grain in the form of whiskey were required to to pay a new tax, which they did not agree with. This was Alexander Hamilton's program of getting the country out of national debt.
This new tax was extremely unpopular in western states, including southwestern Pennsylvania. Protestors would often start riots and try to intimidate the tax collectors coming through. In one instance, an angry mob tarred and feathered a tax collector.
In response, President Washington called in a militia of 13,000 men in an attempt to stop the violence. However, by the time the the militia arrived, the rebels dispersed and there was no confrontation. The response showed that the government had the right to levy taxes and suppress voilent resistance to its laws.
For more information and the complete schedule of events, visit the Whiskey Rebellion Festival's website at http://www.whiskeyrebellionfestival.com/. There's something for each member of the family, so you won't want to miss out any of the days!
Here's some history behind the Whiskey Rebellion, and why we celebrate this exciting time in Pennsylvania history. This information comes from the Whiskey Rebellion Festival website:
The Whiskey Rebellion was originally was a tax protest in the early years of the United States, starting in 1791. During George Washington's presidency, farmers who sold their grain in the form of whiskey were required to to pay a new tax, which they did not agree with. This was Alexander Hamilton's program of getting the country out of national debt.
This new tax was extremely unpopular in western states, including southwestern Pennsylvania. Protestors would often start riots and try to intimidate the tax collectors coming through. In one instance, an angry mob tarred and feathered a tax collector.
In response, President Washington called in a militia of 13,000 men in an attempt to stop the violence. However, by the time the the militia arrived, the rebels dispersed and there was no confrontation. The response showed that the government had the right to levy taxes and suppress voilent resistance to its laws.
For more information and the complete schedule of events, visit the Whiskey Rebellion Festival's website at http://www.whiskeyrebellionfestival.com/. There's something for each member of the family, so you won't want to miss out any of the days!
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Harriet Preble: Washington Scholar, Artist
This week's blog entry was first written by Harriet Branton's Focus on Washington County: Volumn 4. Branton is considered to be one of Washington County's most famous historians, which is why we chose her stories for our blog entries. This week is all about Harriet Preble. Preble is considered one of Washington's most interesting people, keep reading to find out why!
One of Washington's most interesting citizens during the 1840s was an English-born artist and woman of letters named Harriet Preble. The daughter of an American merchant, Henry Preble, and his English wife, Frances Wright Preble, Harriet was born in Sussex, England on Sept. 26, 1795. Members of her father's family had for generations been leaders in the seagoing community around Falmouth Neck, Mass., and it was his older brother, Commodore Edward Preble, who commanded the famous frigrate Constitution in an historic encounter with the Barbary pirates off the coast of Tripoli in 1803-04.
Just why Henry Preble elected to spend most of his life abroad was never fully explained, not even to members of his immediate family. But he went to France at an early age, and it was there that he met his wife, who was a student in Paris during the wild days of the French revolution. Their civil wedding, which took place on Dec. 11, 1794, was followed by a church ceremony immediately after their return to England.
Harriet and her younger sister, Frances Anica, were, like their mother, educated almost entirely in France. They also traveled throughout Italy with their parents, for Henry Preble was engaged in the mercantile business. As youngsters they attended a famous school operated by Madame Campan and lived on a handsome estate, Draveil, about 15 miles from Paris. The little girls were classmates of Napoleon's sisters, Caroline and Stephanie, and along with their parents became close friends of a number of leading Frenchmen of the day, including the Marquis de Lafayette.
As the years went by Harriet cultivated an artistic talent which she shared with other members of her family, including her father, who also took great delight in drawing and painting. As a scholar she was equally fluent in French and English, read Italian with ease, and became an excellent translator. Her musical studies were not neglected, for she developed into a competent pianist. When she left France in 1830 to live in America, it was Lafayette himself who thanked her for a number of drawings she had given him, and praised her "excellent translation" of Cooper's "Notions of Americans."
Miss preble journeyed to America with her mother to join her sister, Anica, who had many years earlier married an American Lawyer and diplomat named Thomas Barlow, a member of a distinguished Connecticut family. His childless uncle, Joel Barlow, was an eminent lawyer, diplomat, and poet who regarded his favorite nephew, Thomas, as his adopted son and heir. After their marriage in France in 1817, Thomas and Anica Barlow lived in the United States, first in Washington, D.C., at Uncle Joel's lovely estate, Kalorama. Within two years, however, the family moved to Pittsburgh, where they settled in Manchester. In Pittsburgh the Barlows were joined by Henry Preble, who lived with them until his death in 1825. There they also entertained Mrs. Barlow's old friend, Lafayette, during his triumphal tour of the United States in 1825.
So it was not surprising that the Preble sisters, whose lives were so closely intertwined during their youth, would wish to be reunited in America. And Mrs. Preble longed to become better acquainted with her four grandchildren, whom she had enjoyed during the summer of 1827 when the Barlows spent three months in Paris. It was a move which Harriet, however, did nto take lightly. The project was considered carefully for many months and it was finally decided that the French halk fo hte family would join the American half in the spring of 1830. On June 24, 1829, Harriet informed Anica "I wrote to you, dear sister, on the tenth of this month, to tell you our decision was made, and that we should soon come to join you in America... I think we shall lead a very sweet life together, and I am enchanted with the idea of finding you established in the country (at a cottage named "Migonionette," on the banks of hte Ohio)... Your black town of Pittsburgh would have made a sad impression upon me, after leaving Paris and Versailles."
So, in spite of one of two misgivings, Miss Preble and her mother looked forward with great anticipation to their reunion with the Barlows. On Jan. 10, 1830, Harriet wrote to her sister "... a few months of patience, and many dreams will be realized." They sailed from France in March and landed in Philadelphia, where American friends of the Barlows recieved them cordially and made them feel quite at home. Soon they set out by stagecoach on the journey across the Alleghenies, and their progress was recorded by Harriet in letters and artistic sketches of the lovely countryside. These were regrettably destroyed later by her own request.
Two years after their arrival, Harriet and her mother rented a cottage and 10 acres adjoining the Barlow property which they named "San Souci." There in 1832 Miss Preble opened a school for six to eight young ladies from 12 to 15 years of age. Her approach to teaching was an appeal to "moral suasion." She set out to acquire "the respect, the confidence, and the affections of her pupils." And it wasn't easy. One student wrote that "the independence of American girls gave her trouble at first." But, true to her cultivated and disciplined mind, she preserved and won not only their respect and affection but an acknowledgement that some of her charges "esteemed it the highest privilege" of their lives "to have been blessed with the friendship of one so superior..."
After a strenuous four years of teaching, Miss Preble's frail health gave out, and she and her mother retired for about 18 months to the peace and quiet of Little Washington where, they had heard, the presence of a college and a female seminary "had created a very agreeable literary society, sufficiently large to afford variety... and not so large as to fatigue..." There they made many new friends, among them Professor Richard Henry Lee (who later became Harriet's biographer), and the LeMoynes. After this brief early stay, the Prebles moved to New Brighton and then back to Allegheny City.
In 1846, a year after the death of her mother, Harriet returned to Washington. She purchased a home and joined the Barlows, who had moved there so that their sons, Fredrick and Frank, could attend Washington College. They also desidered to be near the children of their daughter, Emma Barlow Wilson, who had died at the age of 28. As a member of the family Harriet took quite the maternal interest in teh motherless Wilson children, Edward, James, and Clara, just as she always had been close to her Barlow Nieces and nephews.
The family lived in Little Washington for four years, from 1846 to 1850, and during this period Miss Preble cemented friendships which she had begun a decade earlier. She also continued with her art, and among the works she completed during her stay in Washington was an engraving of Washington College which adorned the school's diplomas until it merged with Jefferson College in 1865.
Miss Preble particularly enjoyed her friendship with the LeMoynes. In her diary, under an entry dated Sept. 19, 1846, she wrote: "In the afternoon Mrs. LeMoyne came to see us. She is very friendly, and we like her very much. She proposed a walk; the weather was beautiful, the air pure and buoyant... We wandered about in the delightful meadows which are just out of town; all was lovely around us." Later she wrote of their good fortune in living in Washington, where they "could enjoy at once all the advantages of a town and of the country."
The family moved again, in the spring of 1850, back to Manchester, where they resumed friendships from their earlier years at "Mignionette" and "San Souci." It was there that Miss Preble's health failed rapidly. Afflicted with consumption, she died on Feb. 4, 1854, at the age of 59, and was buried in Allegheny Cemetary.
One of Washington's most interesting citizens during the 1840s was an English-born artist and woman of letters named Harriet Preble. The daughter of an American merchant, Henry Preble, and his English wife, Frances Wright Preble, Harriet was born in Sussex, England on Sept. 26, 1795. Members of her father's family had for generations been leaders in the seagoing community around Falmouth Neck, Mass., and it was his older brother, Commodore Edward Preble, who commanded the famous frigrate Constitution in an historic encounter with the Barbary pirates off the coast of Tripoli in 1803-04.
Just why Henry Preble elected to spend most of his life abroad was never fully explained, not even to members of his immediate family. But he went to France at an early age, and it was there that he met his wife, who was a student in Paris during the wild days of the French revolution. Their civil wedding, which took place on Dec. 11, 1794, was followed by a church ceremony immediately after their return to England.
Harriet and her younger sister, Frances Anica, were, like their mother, educated almost entirely in France. They also traveled throughout Italy with their parents, for Henry Preble was engaged in the mercantile business. As youngsters they attended a famous school operated by Madame Campan and lived on a handsome estate, Draveil, about 15 miles from Paris. The little girls were classmates of Napoleon's sisters, Caroline and Stephanie, and along with their parents became close friends of a number of leading Frenchmen of the day, including the Marquis de Lafayette.
As the years went by Harriet cultivated an artistic talent which she shared with other members of her family, including her father, who also took great delight in drawing and painting. As a scholar she was equally fluent in French and English, read Italian with ease, and became an excellent translator. Her musical studies were not neglected, for she developed into a competent pianist. When she left France in 1830 to live in America, it was Lafayette himself who thanked her for a number of drawings she had given him, and praised her "excellent translation" of Cooper's "Notions of Americans."
Miss preble journeyed to America with her mother to join her sister, Anica, who had many years earlier married an American Lawyer and diplomat named Thomas Barlow, a member of a distinguished Connecticut family. His childless uncle, Joel Barlow, was an eminent lawyer, diplomat, and poet who regarded his favorite nephew, Thomas, as his adopted son and heir. After their marriage in France in 1817, Thomas and Anica Barlow lived in the United States, first in Washington, D.C., at Uncle Joel's lovely estate, Kalorama. Within two years, however, the family moved to Pittsburgh, where they settled in Manchester. In Pittsburgh the Barlows were joined by Henry Preble, who lived with them until his death in 1825. There they also entertained Mrs. Barlow's old friend, Lafayette, during his triumphal tour of the United States in 1825.
So it was not surprising that the Preble sisters, whose lives were so closely intertwined during their youth, would wish to be reunited in America. And Mrs. Preble longed to become better acquainted with her four grandchildren, whom she had enjoyed during the summer of 1827 when the Barlows spent three months in Paris. It was a move which Harriet, however, did nto take lightly. The project was considered carefully for many months and it was finally decided that the French halk fo hte family would join the American half in the spring of 1830. On June 24, 1829, Harriet informed Anica "I wrote to you, dear sister, on the tenth of this month, to tell you our decision was made, and that we should soon come to join you in America... I think we shall lead a very sweet life together, and I am enchanted with the idea of finding you established in the country (at a cottage named "Migonionette," on the banks of hte Ohio)... Your black town of Pittsburgh would have made a sad impression upon me, after leaving Paris and Versailles."
So, in spite of one of two misgivings, Miss Preble and her mother looked forward with great anticipation to their reunion with the Barlows. On Jan. 10, 1830, Harriet wrote to her sister "... a few months of patience, and many dreams will be realized." They sailed from France in March and landed in Philadelphia, where American friends of the Barlows recieved them cordially and made them feel quite at home. Soon they set out by stagecoach on the journey across the Alleghenies, and their progress was recorded by Harriet in letters and artistic sketches of the lovely countryside. These were regrettably destroyed later by her own request.
Two years after their arrival, Harriet and her mother rented a cottage and 10 acres adjoining the Barlow property which they named "San Souci." There in 1832 Miss Preble opened a school for six to eight young ladies from 12 to 15 years of age. Her approach to teaching was an appeal to "moral suasion." She set out to acquire "the respect, the confidence, and the affections of her pupils." And it wasn't easy. One student wrote that "the independence of American girls gave her trouble at first." But, true to her cultivated and disciplined mind, she preserved and won not only their respect and affection but an acknowledgement that some of her charges "esteemed it the highest privilege" of their lives "to have been blessed with the friendship of one so superior..."
After a strenuous four years of teaching, Miss Preble's frail health gave out, and she and her mother retired for about 18 months to the peace and quiet of Little Washington where, they had heard, the presence of a college and a female seminary "had created a very agreeable literary society, sufficiently large to afford variety... and not so large as to fatigue..." There they made many new friends, among them Professor Richard Henry Lee (who later became Harriet's biographer), and the LeMoynes. After this brief early stay, the Prebles moved to New Brighton and then back to Allegheny City.
In 1846, a year after the death of her mother, Harriet returned to Washington. She purchased a home and joined the Barlows, who had moved there so that their sons, Fredrick and Frank, could attend Washington College. They also desidered to be near the children of their daughter, Emma Barlow Wilson, who had died at the age of 28. As a member of the family Harriet took quite the maternal interest in teh motherless Wilson children, Edward, James, and Clara, just as she always had been close to her Barlow Nieces and nephews.
The family lived in Little Washington for four years, from 1846 to 1850, and during this period Miss Preble cemented friendships which she had begun a decade earlier. She also continued with her art, and among the works she completed during her stay in Washington was an engraving of Washington College which adorned the school's diplomas until it merged with Jefferson College in 1865.
Miss Preble particularly enjoyed her friendship with the LeMoynes. In her diary, under an entry dated Sept. 19, 1846, she wrote: "In the afternoon Mrs. LeMoyne came to see us. She is very friendly, and we like her very much. She proposed a walk; the weather was beautiful, the air pure and buoyant... We wandered about in the delightful meadows which are just out of town; all was lovely around us." Later she wrote of their good fortune in living in Washington, where they "could enjoy at once all the advantages of a town and of the country."
The family moved again, in the spring of 1850, back to Manchester, where they resumed friendships from their earlier years at "Mignionette" and "San Souci." It was there that Miss Preble's health failed rapidly. Afflicted with consumption, she died on Feb. 4, 1854, at the age of 59, and was buried in Allegheny Cemetary.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Travels Abroad: A Washington Man at the Tomb of Shakespeare- Life at Sea- Sweet Home
Here’s a 2004 Focus article that first appeared Thursday, September 6, 1883 in The Washington Observer. It was originally written by the Editor and Proprietor of the paper, Ernest F. Acheson.
EDITOR OBSERVER: After a pleasant sojourn, I took up the march for home. Although I had seen much, there was much more that I had missed! On Tuesday July 24th, I started by the Great Western Railway for Liverpool, stopping en route at Stratford on Avon to see the birthplace and tomb of Shakespeare. I arrived at Stratford about 1 o’clock and entered the Omnibus to ride to the Red Horse Hotel. Inside of the ‘bus was a placard announcing that the Red Horse was known to Americans as the Hotel of Washington Irving. The hotel was a little two story building without a front upon the street. The entrance is an archway leading from the street back to the stables. When I entered I found that the room fronting upon the street was the Coffee Room, and at the table were two “drummers” eating dinner.
The maid soon brought in dinner for me, consisting of roast lamb, peas, potatoes and bread and butter. Almost all English cooking is plain and when one gets used to their ways, he can get along very nicely. Once peculiarity that struck me more than any other is that they never salt either butter or food of any kind. Each person salts to his taste at the table. While at dinner I got into a conversation with the gentlemen present who had many questions about America. Save the gentleman, “Boots” and the maid, I saw one about the hotel. I did not see the proprietor or clerk and was not asked to register my name. After dinner I started out first to visit the grave of Shakespeare. I found the town a very pretty, clean one, but so different from our American towns.
The streets were irregular and crooked, some of the houses were new and others quite old, some with little windows and the second stories projecting over the first. Many homes seemed to be built of heavy framed timbers and then filled in with stone or brick, and had little panes of glass leaded in the windows.
Everything however looked clean and neat. In many of the humbler homes the windows were full of flowers. It was quite a walk down one of these crooked streets to the church, which is near the outskirts of the town and is very old. The part where the “bard of Avon” lies buried was built in the 12th century, and the central parts about two years before Columbus discovered America.
The church is of stone, many of which are crumbling with age and have, from time to time, to be replaced, and is lighted by high windows filled with little leaded panes such as I have already described.
The stone marking the grave is the oldest part of the church, lying flat upon the pavement that has been worn by the feet of visitors so that the inscription has to be re-cut time and again. The register kept in the church shows that a large proportion of visitors are Americans.
After leaving the church, I visited the house in which the bard was born, which is now turned into a kind of museum of Shakespearean relics. The house is many centuries old with many gables and small windows. It is framed as I have described of heavy timbers and filled in with stonework. Your space will not allow of a detailed description of the various relics and curiosities displayed there.
On the same evening, I went to Liverpool, arriving there at 10 o’clock. Liverpool is said to be more of an American city than any place in England. The first evidence I had of their adopting of American ways was the street which took me to the hotel and the second, hot muffins for supper and breakfast. As a rule the breakfast at an English hotel will consist of beefsteak, mutton chops and boiled eggs, or boiled eggs, mutton chops and beefsteak. The hotel, the Adelphi, also had an elevator, called there a “lift,” in good running order. I was much pleased with the shops or stores of Liverpool. There were fine displays in the windows with the prices marked in plain figures. I do not wish to tantalize your lady readers by showing how they could have shopped to advantage if they had been there, but will give an example: find kid gloves of odd sizes, under 6 and over 8, were marked one shilling, twenty-four cents, others from two to six buttons, from thrity-two up to seventy-five cents. This being the great English seaport, the most interesting things to see is the docks. Starting out from the “landing stag,” as it is called, upon a tug and going down the river towards the sea, you soon come to a high stone wall that for miles cuts off all view towards the city. Here and there are openings wide enough for ships to enter. Going into anyone of these you find other heavy stone walls and piers running parallel and perpendicular to the outside wall, forming docks at which the largest ocean steamers can be loaded and unloaded undisturbed by the wildest storms without.
I could, with pleasure and profit, have spent many days here but time and tide wait for no one and so Thursday afternoon, July 26th, found me steaming down the harbor, surrounded by strange faces, on the famous City of Berlin, en route for home. What cared I if I knew no one. I knew that many hearts like mine beat quicker at the thought that every throb of the great engine beneath us brought us nearer and nearer home. Many eyes like mine would be strained over the watery waste for the first glimpse of our native land. It does not take long to get acquainted on shipboard being shut up together with nothing but the sky and sea about you, it is the easiest thing in the world to pick up acquaintances. The first day, I got acquainted with the children, the second with their parents, and the third with almost everybody well enough to be on deck. The staterooms on board were rather small. The one I was in was six feet square, with two berths, one above the other, a sofa opposite the berths and a stationary washstand. My room-mate and I never attempted to get up or go to bed at the same time. The partition did not quite reach the deck above, leaving some space for ventilation. The doors could be fastened partly shut with hooks for the same purpose. When well, one of the chief employments is that of eating and looking forward to the next meal, for the sea air gives a fine appetite. When seasick- well! You do not need anything to engage your thoughts. My friend Brown described his sensations in a few words- “At first I was afraid I would die and then I was afraid I would not.” The next morning after leaving Liverpool we dropped anchor in Queenstown harbor and waited all day until 5 o’clock for the mails. No sooner were we in the harbor than the deck was over run with peddlers selling laces, silk handkerchiefs, bog oak ornaments, canes &c. We had about five hundred steerage passengers on board and with them, the peddlers drove a fine trade in cheap candy and fruit.
Having received the mails our ship stood out to sea but when the lingering twilight of that northern latitude deepened into night we were not yet entirely out of sight of land. The next morning we were fairly at sea and could feel the swell of the ocean which brings to the delicate stomach the first unpleasant sensation of sea-sickness. As the day passed on, the wind freshened and the number of persons “paying tribute to Neptune” greatly increased. Some retreated to their berths and did not appear in public for several days. Others bravely remained on deck but, at intervals, gazed intently at the waters over the side of the ship. After about two days the wind died down, the sea became calmer and most of the passengers recovered sufficiently to enjoy the voyage. After the first day at sea we rarely sighted a sail and daily round soon became monotonous. The usual program for the day was about as follows: First a salt water bath, then breakfast from eight to nine o’clock, lunch at 1 o’clock, dinner from five to seven, supper at nine in the evening. In addition to this, early risers would get a cup of coffee and a cracker before breakfast and were reduced to such things as could be kept on ice or in tin cans. The intervals between meals were filled by reading, walking back and forth, talking and in playing various games. There was a great variety of people among the passengers, principally English and America. We had missionaries returning home for a rest from their labors, play actors returning after fulfilling English engagements and American Tourists, some of whom had been away one or two years and had been over Europe, Egypt and the Holy Land. With such a variety one could not help making pleasant acquaintances and getting a store of useful information.
The most remarkable day of the voyage was the second Saturday when we sighted the Long Island coast. As evening came on, a large number of the American passengers gathered upon the upper deck, watching the outline of coast, until darkness shut it out from sight, when the lights from Manhattan Beach and Coney Island came in full view. Some patriotic soul started up one of our National songs and the rest joined in the chorus with a will. This was followed with rousing cheers for our flag. What a happy lot we were. The thought of home softened every heart and we were like children again. So songs and cheers alternated until we cast anchor at New York harbor.
The next morning as we approached the pier I noticed a young lady, who had been two years away from home, standing the deck with radiant face and eyes like stars. I asked her “What makes you look so bright this morning?” She replied, “I see my father on the pier.” In a few moments came the bustle and confusion of going ashore and I found myself riding away to the hotel with the vision of that happy beautiful face mixed firmly in my memory.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
The Mysterious Horn Papers
This "historical mystery" comes from Harriet Branton and her book, "Focus on Washington County." This book comes from our own library at the historical society and contains many other interesting stories from Washington and Greene Counties that you might see in our future blog posts. So sit back and relax as we take you back in time with this history mystery!
One of the most intriguing mysteries to shake the orderly world of American history took place in the 1930s and 40s right here in southwestern Pennsylvania.
It was in 1945 that the Greene County Historical Society published work entitled The Horn Papers: Early Westward Movement in the Monogahela and Upper Ohio, 1765-1795. The apperance of the innocent-looking books caused an almost immediate uproar in historical circles. Before the dust had settled, southwestern Pennsylvania had recieved almost as much national attention as it had during the stormy days of the whiskey rebellion a century and a half earlier.
The facinating story began in 1932, when on August 15 of that year a resident of Topeka, Kan., named William Franklin Horn wrote a letter to teh editor of the Observer. He described a collection of family papers which included diaries and notebooks of his ancestors, Jacob and Christopher Horn, from 1735 to 1795. There was also a town plat of Augusta Town and descriptions of the "lost" communities of Augusta Town and Razortown, accounts of heretofore unrecorded Indian battles, early court dockets for West Augusta County (the disputed portion of southwestern Pennsylvania which for awhile was claimed by both Pennsylvania and Virginia), genealogical records and other items of interest to historians in Washington and Greene Counties.
W.F. Horn himself had been born in Greene County in 1870; he was the great-great-great grandson of Jacob Horn. W.F. Horn's father Soloman had moved his family to Kansas in 1882. Along with their other possessions the Horns took along a trunk full of manuscripts and documents dating back to the 18th century. It was this batch of papers which included the diaries and notebooks of his ancestors that Horn wished to publicize. He said he made handwritten copies of the documents because of the tattered and deteriorating condition of the originals. The originals could not be produced.
In spite of the probable newsworthiness of Horn's story and the correspondent's willingness to write it all up for publication in the Obeserver, the editor hesitatied to accept the offer. The documents were sensational in that they filled in numerous gaps which had baffled historians of the newly found region for many years. Some newly found facts were also startling; for instance, Horn's court docket alleged to record preceedings at Camp Catfish and Spirit Spring in 1773 and 1774, dates which contradicted the previously established date of the earliest English-speaking court in Washington County as September 17, 1776. In 1905 the Washington County Historical Society had even erected a marker commemorating the event. Then there was the graphic account in the Horn papers of a tremendous battle at Flint Top in 1748 in which some 12,000 Indians had been killed. Historians knew of Indian battles in the region, but no previously recorded engagement ever mentioned such a slaughter; there was reason to believe that no such large gathering of Indians had ever occurred in this area or that the physical evidence of so many casualties could have gone unreported for so long. The Horn collection also provided data about Christopher Giest, John Canon and an assortment of people important in the early history of western Maryland and Virginia which contracdicted previously documented accounts of their exploits.
So, while the editor of the Observer hesitated, Horn took his story and his papers to Waynesburg. There the Democrat-Messenger printed excerpts from the collection during 1933 and 1934. (The Obeserver eventually ran weekly installments featuring the papers in 1935-36.) W.F. Horn himself visited Greene County frequently and developed quite a following as a lecturer on local history and genealogy. An interesting and dynamic speaker as well as an affable, friendly man, he seemed to be a walking encyclopedia of facts and information and was only too willing to help people, without charge, with their family histories and genealogies.
In addition to the documents which Horn brought along there was also quite a collection of artifacts which aroused more than a little interest. These included a small marble cross which had been presented by a fur trader, Jean LeBeau, to Jacob Horn in 1739; a Virginia colonial coin dating from 1734; two pieces of 18th century glassware; a wooden razor box made by Jacob Horn, and dozens of items made of wood, hide, flax, stone, and shell, plus arrowheads, carpenter's tools and surveying instruments.
For nearly a decade a lively debate over the authenticity of the Horn collection went on in local historical circles. As early sa 1936, when in August two lead plates, alleged by Horn to have been buried as boundary markers by a French expedition in the 18th century, had been found and dug up just where he said they would be, and there was talk in Greene County of issuing the Horn papers in book form. Horn allowed himself to be persuaded, and a monumental nine-year project of preparing the large collection for publication was begun. A two-volume work begain to take shape- it included a transcript of the diaries, 22 maps, letters, reports of the speeches, genealogical data, the court docket, 500 family histories, and other manuscripts. A third volume, containing warrant, survey, and patent maps prepared by the Pennsylvania Land Office was also planned. It was a prodigious undertaking, for the Horn documents were in considerable disorder. As Horn told it, he had himself copied the diaries after the family chest was opened in 1891 because of th edeteriorating condition of the original manuscripts; however, his copies were so disorganized that the Greene County historians had a complicated editorial job on their hands as they prepared the papers for publication.
When the three-volume work rolled off the presses in December 1945, there was an almost instant storm of criticism from some of the nation's most prestigious scholars in American history. One of the first to recieve a set for review was Julian Boyd, Librarian of Princeton University and a recognized authority on western Pennsylvania history. Boyd, in the summer of 1946, wrote to Guy Stanton Ford, Secretary of the American Historical Association, that the Horn papers were "sheer fabrications." He concluded, however, that the volumes were not intended as a hoax and that they "were not intended to defraud." But, he wondered, "what was the motive?" Boyd's alarums to the AHA resulted in the appointment by the Institute of Early American History and Culture of a blue-ribbon committee of historicans to study the papers and evaluate their authenticity. Chaired by Dr. Solon J. Buck, Archivest of the United States, the committee set about its misison immediately.
As the committee proceeded with its work in the late 1946 its investigation was hampered by Horn's illness. Confined to his Topeka home, he was unable even to correspond with members of the committee. The work proceeded, nevertheless; the committee examined the documents and made a number of observations. There were, among other things, numerous words and phrases not likely to be used by 18th century inhabitants of the region; historical inaccuracies; and a writing style that suggested that the diary, the notes, and the court docket had all been written by the same person.
More damaging evidence came from a specialist on the staff of the National Archives who examined the supposedly original court docket and several maps, plus a few sheets of horn's 1891 transcript. the findings indicated that the cover, paper, binding, and sewing of the court docket were not of the 18th century origin; the text of the docket was written with a type of metal pen and ink not available in the 18th century; the maps were drawn on the paper of modern origin; and excerpts from the diaries were writtin in ink "of the same type used in the docket and maps." The conclusion of the expert was that "one person produced all of the items examined" and that the writings were all "produced no earlier than 1930."
Finally, a number of the artifacts were subjected to expert scrutiny. The 1734 Virginia colonial coin turned out to be a Dutch piece (no coins were issued by Virginia until 1773); the white marble cross was alleged to be of modern origin; the two pieces of glassware, supposedly produced before 1795, were of late 19th century or early 20th century manufacture; and the use of modern machine-made brads and screws in the razor box marked it as a piece of modern craftmanship.
Most damaging of all was the fact that two lead plates alleged to have been buried by the French turned out to be fake. Spectrographic analysis showed that a type of Missouri lead, unavailable in western Pennsylvania in the 18th century, had been used. Furthermore, the French inscriptions on the plates were "most certianly not written by a Frenchman in any century."
The committee's inal report concluded that (1) the Horn papers showed numerous signs of fabrication; (2) they were full of anachronistic words and phrases and historically inaccurate statements of fact; (3) there were a number of "internal discrepancies"; (4) from a stylistic point of view the evidence suggested that the papers were written by the same person; (5) the "original manuscripts" in the collection, the court docket and maps, were recently produced; (6) the "transcript of 1891" was probably prepared at a much later date; and (7) the artifacts included in the collection were "spurious."
It wasn't all bad, however. The committee concluded that the third volume of the Horn papers, the one containing the survey and patent maps, was a very valuable work and that "the Greene County Historical Society rendered a real service to historians and to genealogists by publishing these maps and surveys."
As for William Franklin Horn, broken in health, he was reported after his illness to be "no longer interested" in the papers. He died at his home in Topeka on October 3, 1956, at the age of 86.
One of the most intriguing mysteries to shake the orderly world of American history took place in the 1930s and 40s right here in southwestern Pennsylvania.
It was in 1945 that the Greene County Historical Society published work entitled The Horn Papers: Early Westward Movement in the Monogahela and Upper Ohio, 1765-1795. The apperance of the innocent-looking books caused an almost immediate uproar in historical circles. Before the dust had settled, southwestern Pennsylvania had recieved almost as much national attention as it had during the stormy days of the whiskey rebellion a century and a half earlier.
The facinating story began in 1932, when on August 15 of that year a resident of Topeka, Kan., named William Franklin Horn wrote a letter to teh editor of the Observer. He described a collection of family papers which included diaries and notebooks of his ancestors, Jacob and Christopher Horn, from 1735 to 1795. There was also a town plat of Augusta Town and descriptions of the "lost" communities of Augusta Town and Razortown, accounts of heretofore unrecorded Indian battles, early court dockets for West Augusta County (the disputed portion of southwestern Pennsylvania which for awhile was claimed by both Pennsylvania and Virginia), genealogical records and other items of interest to historians in Washington and Greene Counties.
W.F. Horn himself had been born in Greene County in 1870; he was the great-great-great grandson of Jacob Horn. W.F. Horn's father Soloman had moved his family to Kansas in 1882. Along with their other possessions the Horns took along a trunk full of manuscripts and documents dating back to the 18th century. It was this batch of papers which included the diaries and notebooks of his ancestors that Horn wished to publicize. He said he made handwritten copies of the documents because of the tattered and deteriorating condition of the originals. The originals could not be produced.
In spite of the probable newsworthiness of Horn's story and the correspondent's willingness to write it all up for publication in the Obeserver, the editor hesitatied to accept the offer. The documents were sensational in that they filled in numerous gaps which had baffled historians of the newly found region for many years. Some newly found facts were also startling; for instance, Horn's court docket alleged to record preceedings at Camp Catfish and Spirit Spring in 1773 and 1774, dates which contradicted the previously established date of the earliest English-speaking court in Washington County as September 17, 1776. In 1905 the Washington County Historical Society had even erected a marker commemorating the event. Then there was the graphic account in the Horn papers of a tremendous battle at Flint Top in 1748 in which some 12,000 Indians had been killed. Historians knew of Indian battles in the region, but no previously recorded engagement ever mentioned such a slaughter; there was reason to believe that no such large gathering of Indians had ever occurred in this area or that the physical evidence of so many casualties could have gone unreported for so long. The Horn collection also provided data about Christopher Giest, John Canon and an assortment of people important in the early history of western Maryland and Virginia which contracdicted previously documented accounts of their exploits.
So, while the editor of the Observer hesitated, Horn took his story and his papers to Waynesburg. There the Democrat-Messenger printed excerpts from the collection during 1933 and 1934. (The Obeserver eventually ran weekly installments featuring the papers in 1935-36.) W.F. Horn himself visited Greene County frequently and developed quite a following as a lecturer on local history and genealogy. An interesting and dynamic speaker as well as an affable, friendly man, he seemed to be a walking encyclopedia of facts and information and was only too willing to help people, without charge, with their family histories and genealogies.
In addition to the documents which Horn brought along there was also quite a collection of artifacts which aroused more than a little interest. These included a small marble cross which had been presented by a fur trader, Jean LeBeau, to Jacob Horn in 1739; a Virginia colonial coin dating from 1734; two pieces of 18th century glassware; a wooden razor box made by Jacob Horn, and dozens of items made of wood, hide, flax, stone, and shell, plus arrowheads, carpenter's tools and surveying instruments.
For nearly a decade a lively debate over the authenticity of the Horn collection went on in local historical circles. As early sa 1936, when in August two lead plates, alleged by Horn to have been buried as boundary markers by a French expedition in the 18th century, had been found and dug up just where he said they would be, and there was talk in Greene County of issuing the Horn papers in book form. Horn allowed himself to be persuaded, and a monumental nine-year project of preparing the large collection for publication was begun. A two-volume work begain to take shape- it included a transcript of the diaries, 22 maps, letters, reports of the speeches, genealogical data, the court docket, 500 family histories, and other manuscripts. A third volume, containing warrant, survey, and patent maps prepared by the Pennsylvania Land Office was also planned. It was a prodigious undertaking, for the Horn documents were in considerable disorder. As Horn told it, he had himself copied the diaries after the family chest was opened in 1891 because of th edeteriorating condition of the original manuscripts; however, his copies were so disorganized that the Greene County historians had a complicated editorial job on their hands as they prepared the papers for publication.
When the three-volume work rolled off the presses in December 1945, there was an almost instant storm of criticism from some of the nation's most prestigious scholars in American history. One of the first to recieve a set for review was Julian Boyd, Librarian of Princeton University and a recognized authority on western Pennsylvania history. Boyd, in the summer of 1946, wrote to Guy Stanton Ford, Secretary of the American Historical Association, that the Horn papers were "sheer fabrications." He concluded, however, that the volumes were not intended as a hoax and that they "were not intended to defraud." But, he wondered, "what was the motive?" Boyd's alarums to the AHA resulted in the appointment by the Institute of Early American History and Culture of a blue-ribbon committee of historicans to study the papers and evaluate their authenticity. Chaired by Dr. Solon J. Buck, Archivest of the United States, the committee set about its misison immediately.
As the committee proceeded with its work in the late 1946 its investigation was hampered by Horn's illness. Confined to his Topeka home, he was unable even to correspond with members of the committee. The work proceeded, nevertheless; the committee examined the documents and made a number of observations. There were, among other things, numerous words and phrases not likely to be used by 18th century inhabitants of the region; historical inaccuracies; and a writing style that suggested that the diary, the notes, and the court docket had all been written by the same person.
More damaging evidence came from a specialist on the staff of the National Archives who examined the supposedly original court docket and several maps, plus a few sheets of horn's 1891 transcript. the findings indicated that the cover, paper, binding, and sewing of the court docket were not of the 18th century origin; the text of the docket was written with a type of metal pen and ink not available in the 18th century; the maps were drawn on the paper of modern origin; and excerpts from the diaries were writtin in ink "of the same type used in the docket and maps." The conclusion of the expert was that "one person produced all of the items examined" and that the writings were all "produced no earlier than 1930."
Finally, a number of the artifacts were subjected to expert scrutiny. The 1734 Virginia colonial coin turned out to be a Dutch piece (no coins were issued by Virginia until 1773); the white marble cross was alleged to be of modern origin; the two pieces of glassware, supposedly produced before 1795, were of late 19th century or early 20th century manufacture; and the use of modern machine-made brads and screws in the razor box marked it as a piece of modern craftmanship.
Most damaging of all was the fact that two lead plates alleged to have been buried by the French turned out to be fake. Spectrographic analysis showed that a type of Missouri lead, unavailable in western Pennsylvania in the 18th century, had been used. Furthermore, the French inscriptions on the plates were "most certianly not written by a Frenchman in any century."
The committee's inal report concluded that (1) the Horn papers showed numerous signs of fabrication; (2) they were full of anachronistic words and phrases and historically inaccurate statements of fact; (3) there were a number of "internal discrepancies"; (4) from a stylistic point of view the evidence suggested that the papers were written by the same person; (5) the "original manuscripts" in the collection, the court docket and maps, were recently produced; (6) the "transcript of 1891" was probably prepared at a much later date; and (7) the artifacts included in the collection were "spurious."
It wasn't all bad, however. The committee concluded that the third volume of the Horn papers, the one containing the survey and patent maps, was a very valuable work and that "the Greene County Historical Society rendered a real service to historians and to genealogists by publishing these maps and surveys."
As for William Franklin Horn, broken in health, he was reported after his illness to be "no longer interested" in the papers. He died at his home in Topeka on October 3, 1956, at the age of 86.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
How it was "Back Then" Memories of Farm Life in Washington County
This particular blog post comes from a 1997 Focus article written by Virginia C. Hopkins.
With winter came a whole new array of activities on the farm, and a new set of problems; how to keep warm when the gas lines froze; how to get to school when the snow was deep; how to get the milk to its destination when the roads were closedwith snow drifts; what to do with the milk when it couldn't be hauled away. Our house was large and high ceilinged and drafty. The one gas furnace was inadequate, and the upstairs was not heated. Each bedroom had a fireplace, but those had been sealed up long since, and were never used in my lifetime. Instead, a line ran into each bedroom carrying gas to a stove and a single gas light. On winter mornings we children would dash downstairs where it was slightly warmer and dress by an open gas fire or over an open register.
Like huge iron sculputures, three oil wells dotted our landscape, and these provided us with "free" gas for heat and lights. In those early years there was an abundance of this natural gas, and at the end of the stonce and concerete steps that lead from the front porch to the mailbox by the road, there stood an open gas jet which when lit threw a warm and friendly glow over the lawn and into the front windows of the house. But sometiems in the winter the gas lines would freeze, and we would be without gas heat until they could be thawed out. I have vivid memories of huddling by the pot-bellied wood stove in the dining room. Sometimes the pump in the kitchen froze.
In a previous chapter I have described our one-room country school. When the snow was deep in the winter, the school might have to be closed for a time. But mostly we just plowed our way through the deep drifts, up the hill, over the fences, until we reached Christie's schoolhouse. There, two large cast iron gas stoves provided warmth and an aroma of drying coats and mittens. The other day I was reading an author's memoirs and was amused by her query. 'Do you remember when your mother stopped making your wear long underwear?' Perhaps I knew I was growing up when I no longer had to wear those ugly things that could never be hidden because of the tall-tale fold at the ankle that not even thick stockings could hide. I don't remember being concerned about the matter in country school, where probably everybody was dressed the same. When I went off to school, I had to continue to wear them because I was "delicate", and I well remember going to the girls' room each morning and tucking them up under my bloomers.
As we reached the sixth grade, my sister and I transferred to the the Canonsburg school system. As the distance was too far for us to walk, our parents had to provide our transportation. One year we rode to school with the milkman, who picked who picked up our milk cans, then those of another farms- a roundabout way to get to school! Other times, we walked the mile to route 19 and caught the Greyhound Bus. In winter it was often too darlk for the walk back home. Nowadays, there are so many dangers for children that we have armies of school buses.
Then, our great dread was of the fierce dog that greeted us with his ferocious barking as we got off the bus. He got loose one dark even and bit my sister. His owner, out of fear of punishment, killed the dog, and not knowing if the dog was rabid, our doctor had no choice but to give her the painful Pasteur treatments.
In order to not miss school when the roads were impassable with snowdrifts, we had to spend nights in town, imposing upon the kindness of relatives or good friends. One particular friend was Mrs. T-, an old lady with a big house and a big heart. She and her unmarried daughter took us in whenever we needed, and Daddy always saw that they recieved some delicious homemade sausage or fresh eggs. Looking back, it seems to me that our education was achieved with some extraordinary effort.
An unwelcome task on a cold winter day would be slaughtering and butchering a hog or two. Pork in many forms composed much of our food all year, and Mother's shelves in the cold cellar were filled with crocks of sausage and spareribs preserved in lard, and jars of canned pork. Memories of the strong smell of pork being rendered into lard on the kitchen stove haunt me still. Pie crust was made with lard (later on Crisco became preferred for pie dough, as we become more health conscious); homemade laundry soap was another important product. All in all, the pig was a useful, versatile animal.
We children never witnessed the actual killing of the pigs, but we often watched as the carcasses were scalded and denuded of bristles, then suspended (out of doors) by their hind legs and- well I'll spare you the goriest details! The actual butchering was carried out in the warm cellar by the big fireplace. Here was the sausage grinder, powered by a gasoline engine. Here both parents worked to reduce that hog to edible parts. In retrospect, an unpleasant procedure, but then, a natural, unquestioned part of life on the farm.
Often we were completely "snowed in" for days, sometimes weeks, and the milk truck couldn't come. Then our parents were faced with the very real problem of what to do with the milk that flowed each morning an devening from the udders of a herd of holstein and guernsey cows. There was a large cream separator in the cellar which was powered by that same gasoline engine. The resulting skim milk became a special treat for the pigs, and from the heavy cream we made the best ice cream that I can ever remember eatign. To freeze the ice cream, we used a hand-cranked freezer packed with well salted ice or snow. Mother's recipe called for a cooked custard base, the result was so delicious that we couldn't wait to lick the paddle clean. Then, finally, came the bliss of sitting down by a warm fire with our large dish of the creamiest of ice creams. Winter could be fun!
With winter came a whole new array of activities on the farm, and a new set of problems; how to keep warm when the gas lines froze; how to get to school when the snow was deep; how to get the milk to its destination when the roads were closedwith snow drifts; what to do with the milk when it couldn't be hauled away. Our house was large and high ceilinged and drafty. The one gas furnace was inadequate, and the upstairs was not heated. Each bedroom had a fireplace, but those had been sealed up long since, and were never used in my lifetime. Instead, a line ran into each bedroom carrying gas to a stove and a single gas light. On winter mornings we children would dash downstairs where it was slightly warmer and dress by an open gas fire or over an open register.
Like huge iron sculputures, three oil wells dotted our landscape, and these provided us with "free" gas for heat and lights. In those early years there was an abundance of this natural gas, and at the end of the stonce and concerete steps that lead from the front porch to the mailbox by the road, there stood an open gas jet which when lit threw a warm and friendly glow over the lawn and into the front windows of the house. But sometiems in the winter the gas lines would freeze, and we would be without gas heat until they could be thawed out. I have vivid memories of huddling by the pot-bellied wood stove in the dining room. Sometimes the pump in the kitchen froze.
In a previous chapter I have described our one-room country school. When the snow was deep in the winter, the school might have to be closed for a time. But mostly we just plowed our way through the deep drifts, up the hill, over the fences, until we reached Christie's schoolhouse. There, two large cast iron gas stoves provided warmth and an aroma of drying coats and mittens. The other day I was reading an author's memoirs and was amused by her query. 'Do you remember when your mother stopped making your wear long underwear?' Perhaps I knew I was growing up when I no longer had to wear those ugly things that could never be hidden because of the tall-tale fold at the ankle that not even thick stockings could hide. I don't remember being concerned about the matter in country school, where probably everybody was dressed the same. When I went off to school, I had to continue to wear them because I was "delicate", and I well remember going to the girls' room each morning and tucking them up under my bloomers.
As we reached the sixth grade, my sister and I transferred to the the Canonsburg school system. As the distance was too far for us to walk, our parents had to provide our transportation. One year we rode to school with the milkman, who picked who picked up our milk cans, then those of another farms- a roundabout way to get to school! Other times, we walked the mile to route 19 and caught the Greyhound Bus. In winter it was often too darlk for the walk back home. Nowadays, there are so many dangers for children that we have armies of school buses.
Then, our great dread was of the fierce dog that greeted us with his ferocious barking as we got off the bus. He got loose one dark even and bit my sister. His owner, out of fear of punishment, killed the dog, and not knowing if the dog was rabid, our doctor had no choice but to give her the painful Pasteur treatments.
In order to not miss school when the roads were impassable with snowdrifts, we had to spend nights in town, imposing upon the kindness of relatives or good friends. One particular friend was Mrs. T-, an old lady with a big house and a big heart. She and her unmarried daughter took us in whenever we needed, and Daddy always saw that they recieved some delicious homemade sausage or fresh eggs. Looking back, it seems to me that our education was achieved with some extraordinary effort.
An unwelcome task on a cold winter day would be slaughtering and butchering a hog or two. Pork in many forms composed much of our food all year, and Mother's shelves in the cold cellar were filled with crocks of sausage and spareribs preserved in lard, and jars of canned pork. Memories of the strong smell of pork being rendered into lard on the kitchen stove haunt me still. Pie crust was made with lard (later on Crisco became preferred for pie dough, as we become more health conscious); homemade laundry soap was another important product. All in all, the pig was a useful, versatile animal.
We children never witnessed the actual killing of the pigs, but we often watched as the carcasses were scalded and denuded of bristles, then suspended (out of doors) by their hind legs and- well I'll spare you the goriest details! The actual butchering was carried out in the warm cellar by the big fireplace. Here was the sausage grinder, powered by a gasoline engine. Here both parents worked to reduce that hog to edible parts. In retrospect, an unpleasant procedure, but then, a natural, unquestioned part of life on the farm.
Often we were completely "snowed in" for days, sometimes weeks, and the milk truck couldn't come. Then our parents were faced with the very real problem of what to do with the milk that flowed each morning an devening from the udders of a herd of holstein and guernsey cows. There was a large cream separator in the cellar which was powered by that same gasoline engine. The resulting skim milk became a special treat for the pigs, and from the heavy cream we made the best ice cream that I can ever remember eatign. To freeze the ice cream, we used a hand-cranked freezer packed with well salted ice or snow. Mother's recipe called for a cooked custard base, the result was so delicious that we couldn't wait to lick the paddle clean. Then, finally, came the bliss of sitting down by a warm fire with our large dish of the creamiest of ice creams. Winter could be fun!
Thursday, June 7, 2012
William Holmes McGuffey
With high school students graduating this week (and the rest of the month), it's a great time to learn about William Holmes McGuffey! Not only was Mr. McGuffey named after the school district, but he made great strides in education. He still remains one of the most influential people in the nineteenth century. His famous McGuffey Reader impacted young minds all over the world, and his maintained his mission to educate as many people as he could as well as himself until the day he died. The information for this article came from sources like explorepahistory.com.
Born in 1800 near Claysville, McGuffey essentially grew up with the nation, when the evangelical fervor of the Second Great Awakening was at its peak. When McGuffey was a child, his family moved to a farm near Youngstown, Ohio where he learned to work the land. Piety and criousity were encouraged as a child, and he had the hunger for knowledge. While his mother was educated and literate, his father was illerate but well spoken. As a result, McGuffey was encouraged to finish his education, rather than leaving school early to work on the farm. In addition to his public school education, he received education in the classical languages.
After his high school graduation, McGuffey worked to earn money to attend Washington College, where he graduated in 1826. Once he graduated there, he began his long career as a popular college professor and established author at Miami University, in Oxford, Ohio. He resigned from that position in 1836 to take the position of president at Cincinatti College and that same year his first McGuffey Ecletic Reader first debuted. The idea for the ecletic reader from his latest Europe education, the "ecletic" reader could be used by teachers for new commen American standards for children across the United States. The readers taught from poems, stories, scripture and other various forms to teach children what he considered to be the principles of "right living."
These readers sold over 120 million copies and for a long time remained the required reading for school children across the United States long after his death. Henry Ford was a great collector of the author's work and McGuffey's childhood home was moved to the Henry Ford Museum in Michigan. In 1998, a landmark was placed near the farm where McGuffey was born along with a stone marking the home.
McGuffey's Readers still sell today and he is still considered one of the most pivitol educators in America's history. Though McGuffey's principles are a little different than how children learn today, few can argue that he made a difference in the way children learned.
Born in 1800 near Claysville, McGuffey essentially grew up with the nation, when the evangelical fervor of the Second Great Awakening was at its peak. When McGuffey was a child, his family moved to a farm near Youngstown, Ohio where he learned to work the land. Piety and criousity were encouraged as a child, and he had the hunger for knowledge. While his mother was educated and literate, his father was illerate but well spoken. As a result, McGuffey was encouraged to finish his education, rather than leaving school early to work on the farm. In addition to his public school education, he received education in the classical languages.
After his high school graduation, McGuffey worked to earn money to attend Washington College, where he graduated in 1826. Once he graduated there, he began his long career as a popular college professor and established author at Miami University, in Oxford, Ohio. He resigned from that position in 1836 to take the position of president at Cincinatti College and that same year his first McGuffey Ecletic Reader first debuted. The idea for the ecletic reader from his latest Europe education, the "ecletic" reader could be used by teachers for new commen American standards for children across the United States. The readers taught from poems, stories, scripture and other various forms to teach children what he considered to be the principles of "right living."
These readers sold over 120 million copies and for a long time remained the required reading for school children across the United States long after his death. Henry Ford was a great collector of the author's work and McGuffey's childhood home was moved to the Henry Ford Museum in Michigan. In 1998, a landmark was placed near the farm where McGuffey was born along with a stone marking the home.
McGuffey's Readers still sell today and he is still considered one of the most pivitol educators in America's history. Though McGuffey's principles are a little different than how children learn today, few can argue that he made a difference in the way children learned.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Frontier Folk Music Festival, After the Event
Everyone at the Washington County Historical Society would like to extend a huge thank you to everyone who made it out to the Frontier History Center for the Frontier Folk Music Center! We consider this event to be a success for the first of what we hope to be many music festivals in the future. Around 100 guests were in attendence throughout the day on Saturday, and 100 people that Sunday.
Guests enjoyed reenactors, music by The Whiskey Rogues, Adam Sutch and the Beau Street Players. This event was great for both adults and children because there was something for all ages to enjoy. Children enjoyed watching the reenactors and adults enjoyed the music and the beautiful sites the fort provided.
Again, a big thank you goes out to both guests and volunteers for a great event! We hope to see you all at our next event at the Frontier History Center. Look for updates here, our website and Facebook page.
Guests enjoyed reenactors, music by The Whiskey Rogues, Adam Sutch and the Beau Street Players. This event was great for both adults and children because there was something for all ages to enjoy. Children enjoyed watching the reenactors and adults enjoyed the music and the beautiful sites the fort provided.
Again, a big thank you goes out to both guests and volunteers for a great event! We hope to see you all at our next event at the Frontier History Center. Look for updates here, our website and Facebook page.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
"When I Was a Kid" A Nostalgic Look Back at the Way Things Used To Be
This interesting story comes from one out of our March/April issue of the Focus in 2003 by John McCullough.
"Hey Dad," my daughter asked the other day, "what was your favorite fast food when you were growing up?"
"We didn't have fast food when I was growing up."
"C'mon, seriously. Where did you eat?"
"We ate at home," I explained. "My Mom cooked every day and when Dad got home from work, we all sat down together at the table, and if I didn't like what she put on my plate, I had to sit there until I did like it."
By this time, my daughter was laughing so hard I was afraid she was going to suffer some serious internal damage, so I didn't tell her the part how I had to get my Father's permission to leave the table.
Here are some other things I would have told her about my childhood if I had figured her system could handle it. My parents never: wore Levi's, set foot on a golf course, traveled out of the country, flew in a plane or had a credit card. In their later years they had something called a "revolving charge card" but they never actually used it. It was only good at Sears-Roebuck. Or maybe it was Sears and Roebuck. Either way, there is no Roebuck anymore.
My parents never drove me to soccer practice. This was because soccer back then, if there was one, was just for girls. Besides, we had no car. We actually did walk to school. By the time you were in the 6th grade, it was not cool to ride the bus unless you lived more than 4 or 5 miles from the school, even when it was raining or there was ice or snow on the ground.
Outdoor sports consisted of stickball, snowball fights, building forts, shooting hoops, playing football in the U.P. Church lot, making snowmen and sliding down hills on a piece of cardboard, a sled or a Yankee jumper. We had a 12 man (boy) bobsled we ran down Wayne Street and into a snow bank by Edgar's Filling Station. No skate boards, roller blades or trail bikes.
We didn't have a television in our house until I was 18. It was, of course, black and white, but you could buy a piece of special colored plastic to cover the screen. The top third was blue, like the sky, and the bottom third was green, like grass. The middle third was red. It was perfect for programs that had scenes of fire trucks riding across someone's lawn on a sunny day.
I was 18 before I tasted my first pizza. It was at DeCarlo's Pizza in Wheeling, WV. My friend, Bill McGill, took me there to try what he called "pizza pie." When I bit into it, I burned the roof of my mouth and the cheese slid off and plastered itself against my chin. It's still the best pizza I ever had.
Pizzas were not delivered to your house back then, but the milk was. I looked forward to winter because the cream in the milk was on top of the bottle and would freeze and push the cap off. Of course we kids would get up first to get teh milk and eat the frozen cream before our mother could catch us.
I never had a telephone in my room. Actually the only phone in the house was in the hallway and it was on a party line. Before you could make a call, you had to listen in to make sure someone else wasn't already using the line. If the line was not in use, an Operator would come on and ask "number please" and you would give her the number you wanted to call.
There was no such thing as a computer or a hand held calculator. We were required to memorize the "times tables." Believe it or not, we were tested each week on our ability to perform mathematics with nothing but a pencil and paper. We took a spelling test every day. There was no such thing as a "social promotion." If you flunked a class, you repeated that grade the following year. Nobody was concerned about your "self esteem." We had to actually do something praiseworthy before we were praised. We learned that you had to earn respect.
All newspapers were delivered by boys. I delievered The Grit & handbills for the I.G.A. once a week. It cost 5 cents a paper, of which I got to keep 2 cents. On Saturday, I had to collect the money from my customers. My least favorite customers were the ones who never seemed to be home on collection day.
Movie stars kissed with their mouths shut on screen. Touching someone else's tongue with yours was called French kissing and they just didn't do that in the movies back then. I had no idea what they did in French movies. French movies were considered dirty and we weren't allowed to see them.
You never saw the Lone Ranger, Roy Rogers or anyone else actually kill someone. The heroes back then would just shoot the gun out of the bad guy's hand. There was no blood and violence.
When you were sick, the Doctor actually came to your house. No, I am not making this up. Dr. Day delivered me at the house I live in today.
Drugs were something you purchased at a pharmacy in order to cure an illness.
If we dared to "sass" our parents, or any other grown-up, we immediately found out what soap tasted like. For more serious infractions, we learned about something called a "This hurts me more than it hurts you." I never did quite understand that one.
In those days, parents were expected to discipline their kids. There was no interference from the government. "Social Services" or "Family Services" had not been invented. (The ninth and tenth amendments to the Constitution were still observed in those days.)
I must be getting old because I find myself reflecting back more and more and thinking I liked it a lot more back then.
If you grew up in a generation before there was fast food, you may want to share some of these memories with your kids or grandchildren. Just don't blame me if they wet themselves laughing. Growing up today sure ain't what it used to be!
"Hey Dad," my daughter asked the other day, "what was your favorite fast food when you were growing up?"
"We didn't have fast food when I was growing up."
"C'mon, seriously. Where did you eat?"
"We ate at home," I explained. "My Mom cooked every day and when Dad got home from work, we all sat down together at the table, and if I didn't like what she put on my plate, I had to sit there until I did like it."
By this time, my daughter was laughing so hard I was afraid she was going to suffer some serious internal damage, so I didn't tell her the part how I had to get my Father's permission to leave the table.
Here are some other things I would have told her about my childhood if I had figured her system could handle it. My parents never: wore Levi's, set foot on a golf course, traveled out of the country, flew in a plane or had a credit card. In their later years they had something called a "revolving charge card" but they never actually used it. It was only good at Sears-Roebuck. Or maybe it was Sears and Roebuck. Either way, there is no Roebuck anymore.
My parents never drove me to soccer practice. This was because soccer back then, if there was one, was just for girls. Besides, we had no car. We actually did walk to school. By the time you were in the 6th grade, it was not cool to ride the bus unless you lived more than 4 or 5 miles from the school, even when it was raining or there was ice or snow on the ground.
Outdoor sports consisted of stickball, snowball fights, building forts, shooting hoops, playing football in the U.P. Church lot, making snowmen and sliding down hills on a piece of cardboard, a sled or a Yankee jumper. We had a 12 man (boy) bobsled we ran down Wayne Street and into a snow bank by Edgar's Filling Station. No skate boards, roller blades or trail bikes.
We didn't have a television in our house until I was 18. It was, of course, black and white, but you could buy a piece of special colored plastic to cover the screen. The top third was blue, like the sky, and the bottom third was green, like grass. The middle third was red. It was perfect for programs that had scenes of fire trucks riding across someone's lawn on a sunny day.
I was 18 before I tasted my first pizza. It was at DeCarlo's Pizza in Wheeling, WV. My friend, Bill McGill, took me there to try what he called "pizza pie." When I bit into it, I burned the roof of my mouth and the cheese slid off and plastered itself against my chin. It's still the best pizza I ever had.
Pizzas were not delivered to your house back then, but the milk was. I looked forward to winter because the cream in the milk was on top of the bottle and would freeze and push the cap off. Of course we kids would get up first to get teh milk and eat the frozen cream before our mother could catch us.
I never had a telephone in my room. Actually the only phone in the house was in the hallway and it was on a party line. Before you could make a call, you had to listen in to make sure someone else wasn't already using the line. If the line was not in use, an Operator would come on and ask "number please" and you would give her the number you wanted to call.
There was no such thing as a computer or a hand held calculator. We were required to memorize the "times tables." Believe it or not, we were tested each week on our ability to perform mathematics with nothing but a pencil and paper. We took a spelling test every day. There was no such thing as a "social promotion." If you flunked a class, you repeated that grade the following year. Nobody was concerned about your "self esteem." We had to actually do something praiseworthy before we were praised. We learned that you had to earn respect.
All newspapers were delivered by boys. I delievered The Grit & handbills for the I.G.A. once a week. It cost 5 cents a paper, of which I got to keep 2 cents. On Saturday, I had to collect the money from my customers. My least favorite customers were the ones who never seemed to be home on collection day.
Movie stars kissed with their mouths shut on screen. Touching someone else's tongue with yours was called French kissing and they just didn't do that in the movies back then. I had no idea what they did in French movies. French movies were considered dirty and we weren't allowed to see them.
You never saw the Lone Ranger, Roy Rogers or anyone else actually kill someone. The heroes back then would just shoot the gun out of the bad guy's hand. There was no blood and violence.
When you were sick, the Doctor actually came to your house. No, I am not making this up. Dr. Day delivered me at the house I live in today.
Drugs were something you purchased at a pharmacy in order to cure an illness.
If we dared to "sass" our parents, or any other grown-up, we immediately found out what soap tasted like. For more serious infractions, we learned about something called a "This hurts me more than it hurts you." I never did quite understand that one.
In those days, parents were expected to discipline their kids. There was no interference from the government. "Social Services" or "Family Services" had not been invented. (The ninth and tenth amendments to the Constitution were still observed in those days.)
I must be getting old because I find myself reflecting back more and more and thinking I liked it a lot more back then.
If you grew up in a generation before there was fast food, you may want to share some of these memories with your kids or grandchildren. Just don't blame me if they wet themselves laughing. Growing up today sure ain't what it used to be!
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
National Road, "S" Bridge
Named after its somewhat "S" shape, the "S" Bridge sits at the intersection of U.S. Route 40 and State Route 221 in Buffalo Township, four miles west of Washington. Although huge stones sit inside of the bridge to prevent automobile traffic, people may walk or ride their bikes over it today. Though this bridge looks like a simple piece of Claysville, it is one of Washington County's historical gemstones. The information for this blog comes from Landmarks, Volumn I Column 39, the Observer-Reporter, Jan. 1988 by Lew Hayes.
The S Bridge was built from 1817-1818 as part of the National Road. The National Road started in Cumberland, Maryland in 1811 and went as far west as Wheeling, West Virginia by 1818. Throughout the time the S Bridge was in use, many coaches and wagons traveled over it; which linked the East to the West. Up until the bridge was closed in 1852 due to railroad use, it was the principle use of East-West travel. Many famous people have passed over it, including Henry Clay, General LaFayette and President James K. Polk on the way to his inauguration.
When Route 40 was relocated for trucks and other automobiles, part of the road was "chopped off." As years went on, the elements have really taken a toll on the bridge, and the last remaining parts of the bridge have been left to crumble into a branch of Buffalo Creek. Also, a post office was located along the S Bridge during the height of the National Pike. A tavern was also located at each end of the bridge.
Although the S Bridge is not used for automobiles, it is safe enough to walk and ride a bike along today. It is one of Claysville's most unique sites to visit and gains the attention by many tourists. The S Bridge is also a very popular site on Pike Days, people often set up yard sales around that area because many people pass through on their way to festivals. If you have not had the chance to visit this piece of Washington County history, it is highly suggested that you do!
The S Bridge was built from 1817-1818 as part of the National Road. The National Road started in Cumberland, Maryland in 1811 and went as far west as Wheeling, West Virginia by 1818. Throughout the time the S Bridge was in use, many coaches and wagons traveled over it; which linked the East to the West. Up until the bridge was closed in 1852 due to railroad use, it was the principle use of East-West travel. Many famous people have passed over it, including Henry Clay, General LaFayette and President James K. Polk on the way to his inauguration.
When Route 40 was relocated for trucks and other automobiles, part of the road was "chopped off." As years went on, the elements have really taken a toll on the bridge, and the last remaining parts of the bridge have been left to crumble into a branch of Buffalo Creek. Also, a post office was located along the S Bridge during the height of the National Pike. A tavern was also located at each end of the bridge.
Although the S Bridge is not used for automobiles, it is safe enough to walk and ride a bike along today. It is one of Claysville's most unique sites to visit and gains the attention by many tourists. The S Bridge is also a very popular site on Pike Days, people often set up yard sales around that area because many people pass through on their way to festivals. If you have not had the chance to visit this piece of Washington County history, it is highly suggested that you do!
Thursday, May 24, 2012
LeMoyne Crematory: The First Crematory in the United States
Washington County is home to many unusual landmarks, the LeMoyne Crematory is one that usually comes to mind. Although there were crematories built in Europe during Dr. LeMoyne's time, this was the first crematory in the United States. The information from this post comes from Lew Hays, who wrote A Collection of 300 Columns written for Sunday Editions of The OBSERVER-REPORTER and information from page 4 of the May/June Focus of 1998.
Dr. LeMoyne was a doctor ahead of his time. He also began to notice that all of his patients were getting sick and dying from similiar symptoms. With this in mind, Dr. LeMoyne became very convinced that these deaths and illnesses were directly linked to burial practices at the time. He believed that whatever illness came from the decomposing bodies ran off into streames and other water sources, causing the same symptoms in new bodies. Dr. LeMoyne's solution was to cremate the bodies, which would end the cycle of buring old, sick bodies and creating new sick people.
The idea of cremation came to Dr. LeMoyne when he came across Bavarian nobleman, Joseph Henry Charles, Baron De Palm, speak. The Baron was a diplomat and was brought to New York on business, and Dr. LeMoyne was a member of the Theosophical Soceity of New York City. The Baron spoke at one of Dr. LeMoyne's events as the leading proponent of cremation. The idea made sense to Dr. LeMoyne, but there was nothing like this in America at the time, which gave him the motivation to put this idea into practice.
With this idea in mind, Dr. LeMoyne approached the trustees of the public cemetary about donating money that was needed for the construction of the crematory on cemetary property. Cremation was not a popular concept at the time, so the trustees never considered his offer. That's when Dr. LeMoyne decided to take matters into his own hands.
Instead of building a crematorium on the cemetary's land, Dr. LeMoyne used his own land and funded the project completely on his own. "Gallows Hill" was once a place where prisioners of Washington County were hung, but became the new location for the crematory. John L. Dye was enlisted to construct and create the project, using the only questionable information he was given about crematories in Europe. It was a one-story, brick facility that measured 20x30 feet. The building had only a reception room and furnace room. The cost of the buidling was $1500. Dr. LeMoyne created the oven all on his own, flames never touched the bodies while in the cremation process.
The first cremation took place on December 6, 1976. As years went on, cremations became more popular and throughout it's years, the LeMoyne Crematory held 42 cremations, Dr. LeMoyne's was the third. His ashes are buried in front of the crematory. It is also said that while the crematory attracted national attention, local residents were less than impressed. Dr. LeMoyne was the only Washington County resident to be cremated in his crematory.
Today, burial practices have very much improved and disease is thought to no longer be spread through the ground. Not only that, but cremation is now a more popular burial practice. Even though citizens of Washington County questioned this burial practice at the time, it has certianly taken off here and all across the United States. To say the least, Dr. LeMoyne was a man way ahead of his time.
Dr. LeMoyne was a doctor ahead of his time. He also began to notice that all of his patients were getting sick and dying from similiar symptoms. With this in mind, Dr. LeMoyne became very convinced that these deaths and illnesses were directly linked to burial practices at the time. He believed that whatever illness came from the decomposing bodies ran off into streames and other water sources, causing the same symptoms in new bodies. Dr. LeMoyne's solution was to cremate the bodies, which would end the cycle of buring old, sick bodies and creating new sick people.
The idea of cremation came to Dr. LeMoyne when he came across Bavarian nobleman, Joseph Henry Charles, Baron De Palm, speak. The Baron was a diplomat and was brought to New York on business, and Dr. LeMoyne was a member of the Theosophical Soceity of New York City. The Baron spoke at one of Dr. LeMoyne's events as the leading proponent of cremation. The idea made sense to Dr. LeMoyne, but there was nothing like this in America at the time, which gave him the motivation to put this idea into practice.
With this idea in mind, Dr. LeMoyne approached the trustees of the public cemetary about donating money that was needed for the construction of the crematory on cemetary property. Cremation was not a popular concept at the time, so the trustees never considered his offer. That's when Dr. LeMoyne decided to take matters into his own hands.
Instead of building a crematorium on the cemetary's land, Dr. LeMoyne used his own land and funded the project completely on his own. "Gallows Hill" was once a place where prisioners of Washington County were hung, but became the new location for the crematory. John L. Dye was enlisted to construct and create the project, using the only questionable information he was given about crematories in Europe. It was a one-story, brick facility that measured 20x30 feet. The building had only a reception room and furnace room. The cost of the buidling was $1500. Dr. LeMoyne created the oven all on his own, flames never touched the bodies while in the cremation process.
The first cremation took place on December 6, 1976. As years went on, cremations became more popular and throughout it's years, the LeMoyne Crematory held 42 cremations, Dr. LeMoyne's was the third. His ashes are buried in front of the crematory. It is also said that while the crematory attracted national attention, local residents were less than impressed. Dr. LeMoyne was the only Washington County resident to be cremated in his crematory.
Today, burial practices have very much improved and disease is thought to no longer be spread through the ground. Not only that, but cremation is now a more popular burial practice. Even though citizens of Washington County questioned this burial practice at the time, it has certianly taken off here and all across the United States. To say the least, Dr. LeMoyne was a man way ahead of his time.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Frontier Folk Music Festival
On June 2, the Washington County Historical Society will host the first ever Frontier Folk Music Festival at the WCHS Froniter History Center in Washington Park! From 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. you can enjoy period-dressed characters, food, games, period activities and music that starts at 1 p.m. Enjoy musical artists Adam Sutch, the Beau Street Players and the list goes on. This Saturday is approaching fast, so stay tuned for updates on our Blogger account, Facebook and even the Observer Reporter.
We hope to see you there! It will be a day of fun and music, so please make your way out to the Fort for the big event! Admission is $3!
We hope to see you there! It will be a day of fun and music, so please make your way out to the Fort for the big event! Admission is $3!
Thursday, May 17, 2012
"The Wash Day"
"Laundry day," everyone is familiar with this term and usually cringes at the mere thought of it. Throw the clothes in the machine, add the detergent and select a setting, after about an hour throw them into the dryer and have everything done in a jiffy. How simple is that? The only thing we need to remember today is that different colors have different settings! Today we have it easy, at the turn-of-the-century, there was no such thing as an easy laundry day. This article originated from the 2nd Quarter Focus in 2005 and was written by Barbra Fairchild Gramm (from the book ...And You Think You've Got it Bad). "Wash day" was the original term of "laundry day" and was a more complicated process than what we do today.
Tools needed: boiler, wringer, wash-board, three or four tubs (depending on the amount of clothes), two or three pails, clothes (the essential reason for having a "wash day") and stick and dipper. A wringer was typically around five dollars, but will last a long time, which is important when making that large of a purchase. Pure rubber roles are preferred, for they last the longest. Wooden tubs and pails are most common, but the ones made of paper or wood-pulp are much lighter and don't fall to pieces if they have time to properly dry. Now that the tools are in place, it's time to begin the morning.
Typically on an early Monday morning, the first step is to build a fire in the backyard to heat the wash water, set the tubs in a way that doesn't blow smoke into your eyes if the wind is strong (that tends to hurt your eyes after awhile). Make sure the wash water isn't too warm, just warm enough not to burn your hand. Throw a handful of borax (a home cleaning product) in the first tub, in about ten gallons of water. Also used by the Germans, it makes whites even whiter! A handful of tansy should go in the second boiler, it'll turn water green but will also get clothes white. Using a corn cob to scrub the dirt out of clothes and only use the wash-board when necessary! Rinse in two waters when bluing last and re-starching is used when necessary, like for shirtbosoms, wristbands and collars. Remember, use a broomstick to move clothes from one tub to another to prevent getting them dirty.
Now drying time, different rules for different types of clothing. Clothing should be on the line by ten o'clock in the morning, no earlier or later. White clothing should be hung in the sun and colors in the shade (to avoid bleaching out). Make sure starched clothing is kept out of the wind. Also make sure to turn clothing right side out and shake thoroughly before they are hung, which will speed up dry time. Do not hang clothing by corners! Be proud of your clothing when it is hung neatly pinned in categories with the estethic color patterns on the line. Stockings are to be hung in pairs (make sure they stay together, so one is not lost) and men's underwear should not mix with ladies' underwear. Put towels on the lawn and old rags on the fence, make sure the yard is spotless for dirt!
With all of these rules in mind, make sure to remember how easy you have it the next time you go to complain about throwing a load in the washing machine. "Laundry day" now should be called "easy day," because we have much less to remember and can finish doing it in much less time than what had to be done at the turn-of-the-century.
Tools needed: boiler, wringer, wash-board, three or four tubs (depending on the amount of clothes), two or three pails, clothes (the essential reason for having a "wash day") and stick and dipper. A wringer was typically around five dollars, but will last a long time, which is important when making that large of a purchase. Pure rubber roles are preferred, for they last the longest. Wooden tubs and pails are most common, but the ones made of paper or wood-pulp are much lighter and don't fall to pieces if they have time to properly dry. Now that the tools are in place, it's time to begin the morning.
Typically on an early Monday morning, the first step is to build a fire in the backyard to heat the wash water, set the tubs in a way that doesn't blow smoke into your eyes if the wind is strong (that tends to hurt your eyes after awhile). Make sure the wash water isn't too warm, just warm enough not to burn your hand. Throw a handful of borax (a home cleaning product) in the first tub, in about ten gallons of water. Also used by the Germans, it makes whites even whiter! A handful of tansy should go in the second boiler, it'll turn water green but will also get clothes white. Using a corn cob to scrub the dirt out of clothes and only use the wash-board when necessary! Rinse in two waters when bluing last and re-starching is used when necessary, like for shirtbosoms, wristbands and collars. Remember, use a broomstick to move clothes from one tub to another to prevent getting them dirty.
Now drying time, different rules for different types of clothing. Clothing should be on the line by ten o'clock in the morning, no earlier or later. White clothing should be hung in the sun and colors in the shade (to avoid bleaching out). Make sure starched clothing is kept out of the wind. Also make sure to turn clothing right side out and shake thoroughly before they are hung, which will speed up dry time. Do not hang clothing by corners! Be proud of your clothing when it is hung neatly pinned in categories with the estethic color patterns on the line. Stockings are to be hung in pairs (make sure they stay together, so one is not lost) and men's underwear should not mix with ladies' underwear. Put towels on the lawn and old rags on the fence, make sure the yard is spotless for dirt!
With all of these rules in mind, make sure to remember how easy you have it the next time you go to complain about throwing a load in the washing machine. "Laundry day" now should be called "easy day," because we have much less to remember and can finish doing it in much less time than what had to be done at the turn-of-the-century.
Welcome to Our Site!
Welcome to the Washington County Historical Society's blog, "Voices from the Past!" There's a lot of stories that come from Washington County that must be told, and this is the place to read them! Not only will this blog provide information that everyone already knows, but stories and people that have had a major influence on Washington County that nobody has ever heard before. Our stories will come right out of our library, Focuses from the past and pictures from our database from right in our office. Putting it simply, this is the place for all things Historic Washington County! We encourage you to ask questions, leave comments and even request story ideas about anything related to Washington County you find interesting or want to know more about.
We'll update this blog weekly with news, pictures and other various types of information from the past that you may find interesting and will expand your knowledge of Washington County. Look for blog updates through our Facebook page or just by clicking the link on our website. So sit back and relax as we take you back in time with our "Voices from the Past!"
We'll update this blog weekly with news, pictures and other various types of information from the past that you may find interesting and will expand your knowledge of Washington County. Look for blog updates through our Facebook page or just by clicking the link on our website. So sit back and relax as we take you back in time with our "Voices from the Past!"
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