Monday, March 11, 2024

Historic Structures Brought To Life: The Mid-19th Century Susquehanna Plantation

I've done  "extra"  research on many of the historic homes and structures located inside the hallowed walls of Greenfield Village  (located in Dearborn,  Michigan,  for those of you who live out of state).  
Hopefully,  fans of history and fans of Greenfield Village will read these posts I write before visiting to help enhance that visit.  Nearly all of the information came,  in some form or another,  directly from the Benson Ford Research Center,  the various books and guidebooks,  and from the presenters themselves - all a part of the campus of The Henry Ford,  in which Greenfield Village is,  perhaps,  the largest part.  Oh!  And some info even came from a couple of internet sources.
I hope you enjoy this interesting piece of history - American history~

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Old houses always have a story to tell.  Sometimes it may take a while to learn the tales,  but mark me,  every home - even your own - has a story.  The Susquehanna Plantation from Maryland has a long and interesting history to it - not just in of itself but after it was moved and restored inside of historic Greenfield Village as well.
The Susquehanna Plantation was part of  one of the largest,  most productive farms in southwest Maryland during the 1800s.
The house,  when Henry Ford first heard about it and then saw it,  was tagged to be razed by the U.S.  Navy.  As stated in a 2005 Baltimore Sun newspaper article:  "The Navy was taking over what had been the crossroads of Cedar Point;  eviction notices were tacked to front doors,  with some owners given 30 days to leave."
This picture is from around 1941 / 1942  while still in its original Maryland location.
Even in its rundown condition,  the house still had beautiful features.
Samuel Young,  who lived in Michigan,  had bought Susquehanna at the behest of his late wife,  a St.  Mary's County native.  When they were told to leave,  Young offered the home to Henry Ford.  Young apparently told Ford of the property's connection to Christopher Rousby,  an affluent colonial tax collector of the 17th century,  and of life in Maryland a century before the American Revolution.  The house could be Ford's for free.  All he had to do was come and get it.
Included in the package,  by the way,  was a tombstone belonging to Christopher Rousby,   a his bones were buried beneath!
Who could say  "no"  to that deal??
When Ford's architect Ed Cutler arrived to inspect it,  the building was intact but run down.  
The kitchen hearth before moving to Michigan and restoration.
Inside Cutler had to wade through 18 inches of grain to take measurements.  After viewing the drawings and photographs that were brought back,  Ford decided to acquire the home.  The building was moved in March of 1942 and erected by that following August.  An interesting fact here is that it is situated exactly in the same position and direction in Greenfield Village as it had been in Maryland.  The shadows are the same...
The  "colonial"  Susquehanna Plantation House as it looked in 1965
inside Greenfield Village.
Originally built on the bluffs of the Patuxent River in the Tidewater region of Maryland,  initially it was thought that the house was constructed around 1650.   So,  for years,  presenters in colonial clothing at the Village told the story of the house,  Rousby,  and of Rousby's death at the hands of a cousin of Lord Baltimore,  and showed off the tombstone/grave situated behind the home.
This was how the presentation of this house had been told up until the late 1980's when historians realized that this was not Christopher Rousby's house.
I remember the days when this house was thought to be a colonial home,
as this photo shows,  and the presenters used to tell us about the
tombstone out back.
I took a photo of the tombstone but cannot seem to locate it now.

Here is the parlor located on the eastern side of the home,  opposite end from the kitchen.
I did not take this picture,  but as you can see,  the room seemed to be ready for company from the 17th or 18th century.
But things were about to change.  I recall hearing from a presenter about the new changes that were going to be made to this house.  New and unexpected research had given them information that took them off guard.
As an article in the Baltimore Sun explains:  "...historians became suspicious of claims that the house dated from the late 1600s.  In the 1980s,  a group from St.  Mary's County  (in Maryland)  told museum officials that there were only two buildings from before 1700 standing in Maryland -- one in Anne Arundel County and one on the Eastern Shore."
Well,  this news alerted the staff at Greenfield Village that something was amiss.
A winter scene greets us from the back of the Plantation House.
Again,  from the Sun:  "Soon the staff realized there were major flaws in the story of Susquehanna.  After doing tree-ring dating on the beams of the house and doing archaeological work on the home's Maryland site,  it was determined the house wasn't so old.  It likely dates to possibly around the 1830s.  That meant it couldn't be Rousby's house.  He had been dead more than 150 years when it was built.  The Village staff knew they had to make changes."
The tombstone was removed and put into storage and the bones were exhumed to be examined by a mortuary scientist,  who found that the collection of bones were from three different people!  And none were even Caucasian males!  The museum received permission from the local court to have the bones cremated.  They did and held a funeral as well,  with the ashes reburied at Susquehanna.
In 2002,  a Rousby historian from Maryland named Joan Kocen was able to have the tombstone returned to its home state where she has it packed carefully away until she decides what she can do with it.  No one has any idea of what became of Rousby's body.
The original site of the house in a photo taken by Steven Lindsey.
Now,  how did this mix up originally occur?  The Sun article states that:  "The tombstone,  clearly dating to the 1680s,  was automatically linked to the house.  Oral histories perpetuated the error.  The Carroll family  (Henry and Elizabeth),  who built the house in the 19th century,  knew how old it was,  but their descendants either had died or moved,  leaving no link to the past.  Meanwhile,  a prominent historical architect of the early 20th century,  Henry Chandlee Forman,  helped solidify the myth when he dated the house to 1654."
A unique perspective of a unique house.
However,  the historians of Greenfield Village and the Maryland Archaeologists un-earthed the true history mystery of the Susquehanna House,  for the archaeological investigations at the Susquehanna site were funded by the Edison Institute of the Henry Ford Museum and the Maryland Historical Trust.
It was then noted that Henry and Elizabeth Carroll and their family built this house in the mid-1830's,  (though now the guidebook says  "probably constructed before 1820")  where it sat upon 700 acres,  and they enjoyed a prosperous life,  including hosting extravagant parties.  "On the eve of the Civil War,  Carroll had 65 slaves living at the farm  (according to the latest guidebook and other sources,  though other older sources counted 75 - not sure what made the numbers change),  probably in cabins and duplexes hidden among the trees along the bluffs of Harper's Creek."   These were 13 small,  wood shacks with dirt floors,  and those who lived in them were made to work brutal hours in the fields,  usually sun up to sun down,  especially during harvest time.  "Carroll lived with his wife and six children"  (I've also read five children)  "at the plantation's principal dwelling  (this house),  and a female schoolteacher also appears to have resided with the Carrolls.  Carroll probably had at least one overseer living on his property,  but it is impossible to reconstruct who this individual might have been from census records." 
Italicized information in the above paragraph was written by Julia A.  King.
The Carroll family was one of the wealthiest in St. Mary's County - the slaves alone,  according to the 1860 census,  were valued at $49,000.  Among the slaves were skilled craftsmen,  including blacksmiths,  carpenters,  coopers,  shoemakers,  and seamstresses.
And the house servants.
Madelyn Porter,  who won a Kresge Artist Award for her work telling stories,  
portrayed one of the Carroll slaves - one who worked in the kitchen.
Folks,  this woman's presentation was simply amazing.  
And done,  of course,  in a very respectable and teachable manner.
She explained that the Carrolls were preparing for a wedding,  and it was up to her to make sure the food and desserts were perfect.  She told us that even though she was a slave,  she still had her pride and made certain that everything was up to the high standards expected because of her talent more than of fear.
The way she spoke as she told her stories as a slave at the Carroll Home just 
drew me/us into her world,  making everyone listening feel as if they were there,  
back in her time of 1860.  It was extremely effective. 
In no way,  shape,  or form is slavery presented in a passive manner,  but,  rather,  in such a way that it grabs the visitor almost unexpectedly,  and shows them its horrors on an emotional level as well as in a factual way.
Here are just a few of the comments I received after posting Ms.  Porter's picture on Facebook from others who saw this presentation:
"She was spell binding!"
"Gave me chills."
"She gave a really stunning performance."
"She is amazing!!"
"She was awesome!!!"
"She was fabulous,  all but made me cry!"
"She was definitely my favorite!"
I concur with each of these comments.
Don't believe us?
Well,  someone took a video of her presentation:
Whew!  It still gives me chills to watch.
And,  as I said,  very effective,  too.
The Carrolls' slaves labored in the hot sun and in the rain to take care of the abundant crops grown and cultivated on the land:  In the decades preceding the Civil War,  Susquehanna had been a well-managed farm with one of the largest slave labor forces in the region. The farm's owner,  Henry J.  Carroll,  was reform-minded,  practicing soil conservation,  crop diversification,  and experimenting with innovative agricultural implements.  Susquehanna stood in stark contrast to the antebellum stereotype of  the exhausted,  dilapidated tobacco plantation.
Buffer stands of trees between the fields and waterways certainly helped preserve the farm's rich soils and protect the creeks.  Carroll probably owned woodlands nearby to provide his plantation with firewood,  fencing,  and lumber.
In 1849,  Carroll grew com and wheat and,  in 1859,  he grew com,  wheat,  and tobacco.  He also grew oats and hay,  probably for farm consumption,  and he kept comparatively large numbers of horses,  cattle,  oxen,  sheep,  and pigs. 
Julia A.  King
Early Springtime preparation.
There are times when visitors can catch agricultural laboring taking place in the field next to the house,  where they grow tobacco crop.  The tobacco does not make it to fruition,  however,  for Michigan's weather is not conducive to growing this southern-oriented crop.  But it will grow enough where the visitors can get a good idea of what the plant looks like,  as well as keeping the history of this house alive.

Tobacco are the smaller plants to the right here.
I believe that's corn growing to the left.

The following about this dwelling comes from How the Past Becomes A Place: An Example from 19th-Century Maryland  (Volume 31 Article 9  Historic Preservation and the Archaeology of Nineteenth Century Farmsteads in the Northeast)  by
Julia A. King:
Archaeological and documentary study of the Susquehanna property suggests that Henry Carroll maintained a well-ordered landscape at his plantation.  He was sensitive to issues of land management and appears to have suffered little of the erosion plaguing other farmers in 19th-century,  southern Maryland.  Slave dwellings were hidden out of view,  while Carroll's dwelling was prominently displayed at the center of the farm.  Yet,  access to Carroll's house was restricted to a long,  straight,  tree-lined avenue nearly two miles in length,  and the dwelling itself was enclosed within an unusual elliptical fence.
Distributions of shell, bone, and 19th-century ceramics indicate the yard surrounding the dwelling was divided into a service end and a formal end.  The service end was located off the kitchen with associated domestic outbuildings.  The formal end was situated off the parlor with virtually no evidence of domestic activities in the associated soils.
It was precisely the orderliness of this landscape that made one archaeological feature especially intriguing.  Adjacent to the dwelling's formal parlor end,  hundreds of fragments of brick were encountered during archaeological testing.  These fragments were initially believed to have been left over from the 1941 dismantling and removal of the main house to the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn.  Careful study of the soil stratigraphy,  however,  indicated that the brick concentrations were located below 1941 soil levels,  thus pre-dating the 1941 move.  Subsequently,  traces of a buried brick foundation and cellar were revealed in this part of the dwelling yard.  Enough of the foundation was exposed to conclude that it was probably an earlier dwelling built sometime in the second half of the 18th century.  There was virtually no evidence to suggest that the 18th-century building remained
standing after the newer dwelling was built,  and plenty of indirect evidence to suggest that it did not remain in use through the 19th century.  For example,  there is no evidence in the fabric of the surviving building in Dearborn to indicate the two structures were ever connected, nor were the foundations integrated in any way

So let's take a tour of the inside of the Susquehanna House.
As it sits inside of Greenfield Village,  the Susquehanna House is open for visitors,  where a few times a year period dressed presenters show cooking and crafts as they might have done in the mid-19th century.  
Left of the east entrance door we see the parlor.  This is the same parlor seen in the black and white photo earlier when it was thought to be 150 years older than it actually was.
This is the  "corrected"  version.
During the Victorian era,  the parlor was an important room of every middle and high-class homes and for some,  used exclusively to receive and entertain guest and for others,  used as an environment for family intimacy.
The parlor - I took this picture through a window.  Normally,  visitors cannot see this room from this angle.  It's as if you were sitting on the couch you see in the next photo.
During the Victorian era,  weddings,  funerals,  and other large events where members of extended family and friends would attend and gather were held in the parlor.
You see the small table there,  for decorative purposes when not in use,  though the table's round form also allowed people to sit close together and created convenient gathering spots for sewing,  reading aloud,  conversation,  and other group activities.
Parlors are still featured in both historical homes and in modern homes alike.  They can be used to welcome guests and,  as such,  often feature the home's best furnishings.  Because it was in parlors where funerals were held,  once the funeral business became popular and  “funeral parlors”  became the norm,  parlors in homes became the  “living  rooms.”
Think about it.  And,  yes,  this is true! 
And I went to the other window across the way  (see photo above this one)  to snap this image of the parlor.

And then we move to the center room.
There is one long hall that runs along the front
wall that connects all of the rooms.
I was told this next room was the dining room.
The nineteenth century dining room was used to stage all formal and informal social functions in the home.  The family circle gathered together in this room two or three times a day,  therefore,  great importance was placed on its decoration. 
And it is easy to see the Carroll family would have followed suit.

Though not original to the Carroll family,  all of the antique objects placed inside the rooms of this house would have been similar to what the Carroll family may have had.  Nothing is placed randomly inside any of  the structures at Greenfield Village.  The curators carefully consider each and every object before allowing it to become part of the site. 
It helps to give the appearance that someone may live there,  whether the house is a showpiece without presenters or one that is in constant historical use  (Susquehanna employs both manners of presentation).  And it's this type of vigilance that maintains the appropriate period appearance for each building.  Every object tells part of the story.  Nothing is there by accident,  and nothing is there that doesn't support the overall story.
And this includes items in the kitchen.
Oftentimes,  kitchens would have been separated from the rest of the house - an actual separate outbuilding kitchen would have been made.  This was for two main reasons:  fire prevention and to keep the rest of the house cooler during the hot summer months.
See the items high upon the shelves?
Those are artifacts.  The presenters do not use or even touch them. 
Whatever they need for cooking is brought in specifically for
demonstration purposes and were either made there at the Village 
(the crocks they use,  for instance),  or were purchased from vendors
who make such items for living history.
But the actual artifacts are not to be touched at all.
In the Susquehanna House,  the kitchen was not in a separate building but,  instead,  was located clear on the opposite end of the structure,  therefore being able to keep the added warmth at bay.  
Toward the top of this post you will see a photo showing this same kitchen roughly from this same angle before restoration.  And here it is as it looks restored to its 19th century glory.

There is also a stairway to the second floor for the servants/slaves.  It's not often we as visitors see it being used,  however.  But I have seen servant/slave stairs in other Victorian kitchens.  
This staircase may have lead to the kitchen slave's quarters,
should the slave be permitted to sleep inside the Big House.

From the top of the stairs looking to the kitchen.

Looking out one of the 2nd floor windows
I see the Giddings house across the way.

This was the large 2nd floor room - I imagine this was the head of the house's bed chamber:  belonging to Mr.  and Mrs.  Carroll.
Notice to two small doorways - they allow the slaves to move from one room to another on the 2nd floor,  though they would have had to crawl to pass through.

The stairs leading from the main bedroom to the dining area on the 1st floor.

The Carroll's slaves produced 400 pounds of butter for the year 1860.  Ten milk cows provided all the family's needs for dairy products,  plus some surplus for sale.  The slaves were not allowed to consume any of the dairy products they made.
So,  what do we see behind the house:
This structure is the dairy house where slaves separated cream and made butter. 
Of Susquehanna Plantation's original outbuildings.  It is the only one that survives.


Management and presenters at Greenfield Village utilize this house in multiple different fashions,  which gives a wonderful history lesson of plantation life in the mid-19th century.
At Christmas the house is prepared for not only the holiday itself,  but also for a New Year's wedding as well.
The Carroll wedding table is all set to go as the rest of the house is ready for Christmas.
Next to the wedding dress,  the biggest part of a wedding is the ceremony itself.  19th-century couples often held the ceremony at the home of the bride and it typically took place around noon.  A short affair,  it included an exchange of vows and a dinner feast and dancing afterwards.
It is not always been traditional to have a June wedding.  In Victorian America,  many weddings took place on New Year's Day.  
The custom of the father giving away his daughter,  the exchanging of rings,  and having a reception were all practiced in 19th-century America.  Typically,  the reception was held at the bride's house where toasts were made and games and dancing entertained the guests.
This shows a white wedding dress,  but more often than not,  the bride did not wear white.

Summertime gives visitors the opportunity to listen to slave stories in the various skits. 
Again,  slavery is not presented lightly.  Rather,  it is well done in an effective  manner.  
Madelyn fully gets into the spirit of  telling  what slavery was like,  and one
can't but help 
to be drawn into her world - a life
 - of 1850s Maryland.
It is a true learning experience.

A telling of the tale  "Br'er Rabbit"
Brer Rabbit is/was a trickster figure originating in African folklore and transmitted by African slaves to the New World,  where it acquired attributes of similar American tricksters.  "Br'er,"  as used here,  means brother or bruh - a title before a man's first name.  The words Brer and bruh both originated as written forms of a spoken alteration of the word brother that is used especially in southern African American English.
"Br'er Rabbit"  was one of my personal favorite stories as a young child,  and to hear Madeline and Tony tell the tale in a way it was meant to be heard just gave me goose bumps.

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There is always more to the story when it comes to studying and hearing about the past, 
and this is especially true when one visits historical houses,  such as Susquehanna.
The interpreters of history in museums can only give so much information in their presentation before it becomes rather tedious to many of those listening who would rather have the icing on the cake rather than the filling.  That's where these blog posts come in.  And the deeper I dig into the past - finding the little known stories - of these historic structures,  the more I've come to realize just how much history is in each one.
I commend all of the researchers and historians who not only took the initiative to find the truth about the history of this house,  but were not afraid to make the necessary changes in its presentation.  Sometimes it can be awfully hard to admit a mistake had been made,  especially to one as big as this.  The staff at The Henry Ford learned this,  researched it to make certain,  and then corrected the mistakes.
Kudos and bravo!

 O 0 O

Sources for this post came from the staff of the Henry Ford
Benson Ford Research Library
Various guidebooks of Greenfield Village
and from an article written by Julia A.  King


Ackley Covered Bridge 1832
At one time, covered bridges were commonplace. Not so much anymore. But Greenfield Village has one from 1832.

Daggett House  (part one)
Learn about the 18th century house and the family who lived there.

Daggett House  (part two)
This concentrates more on the everyday life of the 18th century Daggett family,  including ledger entries.

Daggett House  (part three)
Learn about the Daggett House before it was brought to Greenfield Village.

Doc Howard's Office - The World of a 19th century Doctor
It's 1850 and you're sick.  Who are you going to call on?  Why,  good ol'  Doc Howard,  of course!

Taverns were the heart and soul and pipeline of early America.  The Eagle Tavern,  built in 1831,  is one of the most famous of its time on Old US 12,  and still is today at Greenfield Village.
Here's why.

~Edison Posts:
Tales of Everyday Life in Menlo Park (or Francis Jehl: A Young Boy's Experience Working at Menlo Park)
Menlo Park is brought to life by one who was there. First-hand accounts.

Follow the route that Thomas Edison took as he rode and worked on the rails in the early 1860s,  including the Smiths Creek Depot.
 
The oldest windmill on Cape Cod is not on cape Cod - - it's in Michigan!
Lots of interesting things about this wonderful piece of Americana from 1633.

Firestone Farm at Greenfield Village
Learn about the boyhood home of Harvey Firestone, the tire magnate.

The Giddings House
Revolutionary War and possible George Washington ties are within the hallowed walls of this beautiful stately colonial home.

Recreating this store to its 1880s appearance was extremely important as the overall goal,  and so accurately reproduced items were needed to accomplish the end result,  for many original objects were rare or too fragile,  with some being in too poor condition.  

Research has shown that,  as a young attorney,  Abraham Lincoln once practiced law in this walnut clapboard building.  I think this post will make you realize just how close to history you actually are when you step inside.

This necessity of early village life was built in Monroe,  Michigan in the early 1830s. 
Here's its story.

Built in the late 18th century,  with some slight modifications from its original style,  this is one of the oldest original American log cabins still in existence.  

Mills  
General overview.
These buildings were once a part of everyday life in American villages and towns and cities - including the Gunsolly Carding Mill,  the Loranger Gristmill,  Farris Windmill,  Hanks Silk Mill,  Cider Mill,  and the Spofford and the Tripps Saw Mills,  all in one post!

Noah Webster House
A quick overview of the life of this fascinating but forgotten Founding Father whose home, which was nearly razed for a parking lot, is now located in Greenfield Village.

The Plympton House
This house,  with its long history  (including American Indians)  has close ties to Paul Revere himself!

Preserving History
Henry Ford did more for preserving everyday life of the 18th and 19th centuries than anyone else! Here's proof.

Richart Carriage Shop
This building was much more than a carriage shop in the 19th century!

And for some haunted fun, 
Ghosts of Greenfield Village
Yep - real hauntings take place in this historic Village.
Bonafide?
You decide.

Virtually each structure inside Greenfield Village has come from another location,  I took on a project to seek out the original locations of many of the more localized buildings and visited where they first were built and walked that hallowed ground.

Nothing is placed randomly inside the structures at Greenfield Village.  The curators carefully consider each and every object before allowing it to become part of the site. 
And the Clothing Studio at The Henry Ford covers over 250 years of fashion  (from 1760 onward)  and is the  premier museum costume shop in the country.
































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