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!
Friday, June 29, 2012
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.
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