But it's not just Duke of Gloucester Street...it's all of Colonial Williamsburg! And here we are, into part 5 of my series documenting our family visit to Colonial Williamsburg. Until the last week of June 2016, we had never been, but we desperately wanted to go.
It took a few years of saving, for we wanted to do it right, and the pay off was so well worth it!
While there, I took so many photos (and learned so much great history) that I knew I couldn't put everything into one blog post. It just would not work out at all to put hundreds of photos and all sorts of my own thoughts and commentary in one posting. So I split them up into...hmmm...well, let's put it this way - there will be at least one more posting after this one, so that's six postings for sure. Quite possibly there will be a seventh, but we'll see.
Anyhow, I hope you've been enjoying them. I certainly am enjoying reliving my time there. In fact, it's giving me a hankering to head back... (and if you missed my other Williamsburg posts, please see the links at the bottom)
~ ~~
~Watching the 18th century world go by in Colonial Williamsburg~ And that's one of the wonderful things about this historic open-air museum: the entire place centers around a specific time in our nation's history, so everywhere one turns, what they will see is similar to what they may have seen 250 years ago. And therein lies the magic.
History.
Anyone who knows me knows it's in my entire being, where I take it all in and I'm just immersed. For me it's not something 'fun' to look at once in a while, maybe in between trips to Disney World or Vegas or wherever. Not that I vacation in those spots - and not saying that they're not good to go to - but for me, if there is no 'real' history involved, I'm probably not going to want to go.
Okay, I'm sounding harsh here - not every vacation needs to be historical (really? Did I just say that?), but I'm sure, as a historian, I can tell you the true (historic) want and theme of our get-a-way.
To get all I can out of wherever I go.
Since returning from our vacation to Colonial Williamsburg, I've been asked numerous times, "Did you also go to Jamestown?"
"Nope."
"Did you go to Yorktown?"
"Nope."
And they are surprised at my answer.
"You were right there! Why didn't you visit those places?"
"Because I wanted to get the most out of Colonial Williamsburg."
"But you were there for four days! Certainly you could have made time for those other places."
*sigh*
They don't understand...
It was "Williamsburg or bust" for me.
Having never been before - and now knowing better - I think another couple days in Williamsburg would have been perfect, and then maybe a trip to the other two places after.
But I'm not complaining.
You see, as a social historian - and a living historian - I not only enjoy wearing the clothing of the past, but I enjoy intently studying...researching...and just engulfing myself in the past.
And that, my friends, is why I spent my entire vacation inside the Revolutionary City and not bopping about like your average tourist.
So, that being said, are you ready for my next set of pictures, including historical facts, snarky comments, and, of course, scenarios that include yours truly?
Well, as Jackie Gleason used to say, away we go!
First stop for this part of my Colonial Williamsburg series: the Printer & Binder and Post Office - - -
William
Parks' double-bay-windowed shop served as a stationer's, a post office, an
advertising agency, an office supply shop, a newsstand, and a bookbindery.
In this store William Parks sold magazines and books, maps and almanacs, and even sealing wax! His press
printed broadsides and business forms, laws and proclamations, tracts and blank
record books.
I love the fact that everywhere you turn there seems to be colonial
people hanging about, working, speaking to modern visitors...I love it! And we were a part! In this photograph is my wife and our daughter in period dress speaking to a (mostly hidden) Williamsburg presenter.
In the 20th century, while excavating the site of Parks' shop,
archaeologists unearthed several hundred lead border ornaments used for French
and Indian War currency, as well as several hundred pieces of type.
Here I am with Mr. Parks himself! (Well, it could be!)
Today this building is a retail outlet selling some very cool authentic reproduction merchandise such as broadsides, books & pamphlets, and period notices (printed, I am told, on an 18th century press below stairs!), quill & ink, candle holders, and historical documents and images, among many other historically replicated items. They also carry an excellent (and even somewhat eclectic) collection of history books.
As I strolled down Duke of Gloucester Street (I love the fact that I can say that I strolled down Duke of Gloucester Street!), I ran into this fellow, who let his fingers (so to speak) do the talking. Yes, he was the man behind the scenes for the old-time puppet show featuring the historically well-known favorite (and period-appropriate) Mr. Punch (from the classic "Punch and Judy").
Poking
fun at higher-ups was common in the 1700s, and it was one reason
puppetry appealed to the masses. Punch, who spoke in a high-pitched squeal that was often inarticulate, was the Bugs Bunny of his era in renown
and temperament. Punch's punch lines were filled with violence, racism,
sexism, and bathroom humor. The early Punch and Judy shows contained much that
would offend people today.
Whether
squeaking or speaking, swatting the devil or his wife, or appearing as himself
or in a role, people could not get enough of Punch.
In
1776, George Washington watched (a puppet) show. A writer in the Virginia Gazette said that "in the midst of this crash of ruin,"
Washington "can go composedly to see a puppet show or laugh with a
buffoon. O wretched England!" (Photo by Mr. Fred Blystone)
Walking along Nicholson Street, we came across the cooper trade shop:
I could not find any information about the building you see here in this photo. Maybe one of the readers can help me out with a bit of history on it. But as it sits on Nicholson Street today it shows the cooper trade.
Cooperage
is the ancient craft of barrel making; it is considered an art form, really, that results in a
water-tight, wooden vessel held together by nothing more than the hoops that
surround it.
The
cooper’s trade has, in fact, not changed very much at all over its 2000 year
history. A barrel made today is made in very much the same manner it was back
then; the selection and aging of the wood, the preparation of the staves, and
the end construction are all still very similar.
Here in Colonial Williamsburg, modern technology such as the use of band saws and sanders that other 'historical' places may accept is forbidden. Here,the process remains
unchanged from 250 years ago.
Used
for storage of food, water, and other necessities, a cooper’s barrel was also
used prominently for shipping items over land andsea.
Let's hop back over to Duke of Gloucester Street - - - -
This photo of Devon and I is very similar - almost identical, in fact - to a picture in the first post of this Williamsburg series. So why show this one as well? Because it was taken by my Colonial Williamsburg photographic hero, Fred Blystone, and imagine my surprise when he also posted it on one of my very favorite Facebook pages, Colonial Williamsburg Friends. Imagine that!
For me, that's one of the highest honors...especially since I live in Michigan!
Strolling down Duke of Gloucester Street (I never get tired of writing or saying that!), I snapped pictures of whatever scenes appealed to me. I am sorry to say that I'm not sure which structure this is, only because I took so many pictures in such a short time (1137!) that there are a few dozen that I simply cannot place. I can tell you this was taken in the evening, after most of the shops were closed for the day, though the taverns were filled to the brim with visitors. (This is similar to a picture in part 4 of this Williamsburg series, but at a slightly different angle)
The west end of Duke of Gloucester Street
The Brick House Tavern:
This lodging house was built in the early 1760s, where traveling
tradesmen and others with services or goods to sell would arrange to
stay here to show their wares to customers in their rooms.
Over time, a surgeon, a jeweler, a wigmaker, a watch repairer, a
milliner, and several tavern keepers made Brick House Tavern their home.
Once again, I do not know which building this is. It was another one of those scenes that quickly unfolded in front of me: I saw the
woman you see to the right walking past, along with the roof ladder
prominently placed, and I knew I had to capture it, so I whipped out my 'stealth' camera and took the
photograph you see here.
Like
the title of this posting, "Oh! The the things you'll see and the people
you'll meet while walking along Duke of Gloucester Street!" (Thank you for the inspiration Dr. Seuss!) I saw this
gentleman you see sitting on the bench and I struck up a
conversation with him. I have no idea who he is but he was a friendly
fellow, as were most of those who were there.
As we spoke I come to realize he was a patriot and believed in the cause for liberty.
I, too, believed in the cause for liberty, but we must be careful of our conversation, for one may never know who might be listening...
Yes, I think it best if we move along. We'll speak another day.
It's not just people you meet on DoG Street: one minute it is a person, next it's a horse and coach, and then suddenly (how sudden can an ox be?) out comes oxen pulling a cart!
I was disappointed the apothecary shop was not open during the time we were there. I was really looking forward to hearing about this ancient "drug store" and pharmacy.
The Apothecary Shop Unfortunately the shop was closed while we were there.
But I did get a couple of window shots
William Pasteur and John Minson Galt traveled to England to study
medicine before returning to Williamsburg to practice. They were
partners in this apothecary shop from 1775 to 1778.
Maybe one day we'll return again and we can then visit this little known part of our nation's past.
In addition to dispensing drugs, they provided surgical, midwifery, and general medical services.
Heading back to the trades, we found ourselves inside the spinning, weaving, and dyeing shop. I did not get as many good pictures as I would have liked due to the fact that on the day I was in the shop it was packed with interested people, so the backs of people's heads filled most of the photographs that I took.
However, I was able to get a few *decent* shots of the woman on the spinning wheel, for she was behind a rope barrier, therefore the throngs of visitors were not in the way.
My wife is a spinner who presents this craft/trade at our colonial and Civil War reenactments, so she is always interested in watching how others spin and is not afraid to ask questions upon seeing something new or different. The woman here did a fine job presenting her craft.
Flax near the linen.
Here we see flax inside a hackle. The fibers are drawn through the hackle, which will separate, clean, and straighten them. When the flax first hits the teeth of the hackle, a ringing sound will come forth as the tangles and knots are removed. Soon that noise turns into more of a hiss as it is being prepared for spinning into thread.
In the basket we see carding paddles to card (or comb) the wool in preparation for spinning into yarn.
The naturally dyed wool. Here are a few examples of where the colors may come from: madder root from the madder plant will make orange, indigo is best for blue, red is from the cochineal beetle (yes! a real beetle!), brown can come from rotted black walnuts, and marigold pedals make a nice yellow.
Some of the tools of the textile trade.
As I mentioned earlier, I would've liked to have gotten some better photos, but there were quire a few visitors hanging about. I suppose that's a good thing, eh? (unless you're a photographer!)
So, as I walked past the home of George Wythe, Declaration of Independence signer and mentor to Thomas Jefferson, my wife, with my camera in hand, continued to take pictures. She must have taken a half-dozen of me walking past Mr. Wythe's House.
Actually, it's kind of cool when you think about it...
Yeah...my wife knew to have my camera ready as I *just happen* to walk past the George Wythe house.
And since we're in the George Wythe area, why not check out a few more places here?
Next to this house was a basketmaker's shop.
Because the weather was rainy on this day, these two ladies chose to be indoors to craft their magic into basket making.
It was easy to see the importance of the baskets in everyday colonial life. It seemed that every period-dress female was carrying one. I believe each was made right here in Colonial Williamsburg.
"The baskets are made by weaving together thin strips of split white oak, and they come in as many sizes and shapes as there are jobs for them to do." (from the picture book Historical Trades by the Williamsburg Foundation)
How to tell if your egg is good to eat or not: Just fill a bowl with cold water and place your eggs in the bowl. If they sink to the bottom and lay
flat on their sides, they're very fresh. If they're a few weeks old but still good to eat, they'll stand on one end at the bottom of the bowl. If they float to the surface, they're no longer fresh enough to eat.
As the sun began to set behind Chowning's Tavern...
Way back at my first Colonial Williamsburg blog post (link at the bottom of this page) I mentioned the "pathway to the past," a walkway that leads from the Visitor Center to the historic city, and along this pathway I saw a beautiful site as the sun was setting:
I'd come to find out this is the Great Hope Plantation, a historic living history farm representing African-American slave labor and working farmers, showing what they did and how they lived.
"At
Great Hope Plantation, you’ll learn through a hands-on experience how most
Virginians lived more than 200 years ago. Appreciate and
understand the music, songs, and dances of the 18th- century African-American
community which borrowed from the many cultures of Africa and Europe."
I'm not sure how old the windmill is, but I found out that it, until recently, sat behind the Peyton Randolph House and was moved to the Great Hope Plantation to help with the aesthetic appearance of an 18th century Virginia farm. It is believed that the Peyton Randolph House would not have originally had a windmill due to its more urban location.
I did not take the tour of the Great Hope Plantation due to the days it was open to the public. As much as I am into historic farming, I would have loved to seen this presentation.
Yes, there's got to be a next time visit to Colonial Williamsburg in my future!
Then there's the Capitol - - -
Two capitol buildings served the colony on the same
site: the first from 1705 until its destruction by fire in 1747; the second
from 1753 to 1779.
The
Capitol at Colonial Williamsburg
housed the House of Burgesses of the Colony of Virginia from 1705, when the
capital was relocated there from Jamestown, until 1779, when the capital was, once again,
relocated, but this time to Richmond.
The
architects charged with the restoration of Williamsburg chose to reconstruct
the first capitol based on superior documentation of its design and its unique
architecture compared to the second Capitol.
With the iron gate it almost has a sort of spooky atmosphere...
You'll notice nearly all of my pictures of the Capitol were taken at night, right?
Yeah...for some reason I thought I took more daytime pictures of it.
I didn't.
Ooops!
Well, at least I got the few photos that I did!
Speaking of night time....
Evening has come to pass...
And there you have part five of my wonderful world of Williamsburg excursion. I have at least one...maybe two more parts to go in this series, so stay tuned.
Once completed you can then join my family and I on our June 2016 vacation to a true National Treasure, for that's exactly what Colonial Williamsburg is. It does help to 'restoreth thy' National pride!
The puppet information came from HERE
Some of the cooper information came from HERE
Information about the Brick House Tavern came from THIS awesome book
To go to the other parts of this series, please click the links you see below:
In case you missed part one of this series, please click HERE
If you missed part two, please click HERE
Part three? Click right HERE
All are filled with lots of photographs and historical information...and fun.
Interested in an overview of how the Founding Generation lived? Click HERE
How they cooked? Click HERE
How they traveled? Click HERE
How they celebrated Christmas (with a few more Williamsburg photos!)? Click HERE
How about learning how a New England colonial farm family lived? Click HERE
~Updated September 22, 2018~ The post you are about to read is a
celebration of my
favorite season, Autumn, in my favorite era of American history, the colonial times. Specifically, the 1760s and 1770s. It is a little long, for there are many photos included, so if you don't want to
read it off of your computer, just print it out and cozy up next to your
fireplace, candle, or betty lamp and allow yourself to journey into autumn past.
I hope you enjoy it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Come with me as I open the door to the past...
I do not believe there is another season of the year, except maybe Christmas, that evokes the past as does the season of autumn. It's the one time of year where today's modern 21st century people tend to find themselves heading out to the rural and rustic cider mills and apple orchards to carry on that ancient ritual of picking apples and drinking cider as did our ancestors of America past.
Children also enjoy walking through a 'blizzard' of falling leaves, collecting the largest, most colorful of them all to press between pages in a book.
Folks travel in droves from far and wide to visit the New England states as well as the North Central/Upper Midwest region (Michigan, Wisconsin, northern Ohio, Indiana, etc) to enjoy the fall colors, go on hay rides, and take in God's splendor.
It's a very wooden feel, this season of autumn, and I like to take part in my own way - - by wearing the clothing of the past that helps me to feel that I am, in some small way, partaking in this time-honored tradition. And because I am historically dressed, I have found the best place for me to get the immersion feeling is to visit historic Greenfield Village in Dearborn, Michigan, that 90 acre open-air museum filled with houses and other structures from the 1600s through the early 1900s.
What I did for this post celebrating autumn past was attempt to create a little time travel fantasy...just to try to keep it from being like a boring old school text book, yet it is still filled with historical information.
I hope you like it.
Harvest Home! Now Is the Autumn Time of Year
The three
main months of autumn - September, October, and November - is when harvest time
takes place north of the Mason-Dixon. In days gone by, autumn was a period of
hard work, so what I am hoping to show here is not only the labor of these
hard-working people, but of the satisfaction our ancestors received for a job
well done. The fruits of their labor ensured their survival, and there was no
time for "sick days," nor did they have a "sick bank" to
enter if they felt 'stressed out' and needed time off to 'get their head
together.'
If one
didn't put their time in, they, and possibly others, didn't eat. The family - the husband, the wife, and the children - worked like a well-oiled machine; one clog in the cog and it all went down.
I am also hoping that the reader will find a deeper appreciation
for the way our ancestors lived and maybe even be enticed to grow their own
kitchen garden by way of non-gmo heirloom seeds.
~ Crossing through the space-time continuum bridge...back to 1770...
Hey, did you know that I'm always going back in time? I am the backwards traveller Ancient wool unraveller...
(Paul McCartney)
I did it! I've landed in the generation of America's founding!
Lucky for me, I was very near an ordinary - a tavern - and was able to procure a means to travel (besides my own legs). I wanted to visit folks I had met on previous time travel excursions, the Daggetts and the Giddings, and neither lived too close to one another.
The Daggetts lived a ways from
the publick house (tavern) so I concluded a coach would be the wisest choice to travel the long distance. I awaited outside the tavern for the carriage to show...
The Daggetts, a farming family that I, as mentioned, had met in earlier time travel excursions, had asked if I might be willing to help them out in a project. Of course, with a splendid repast that I knew Mrs. Daggett would conjure up for dinner, I agreed and knew I had to take my leave soon.
Rather than sit inside the coach, the driver kindly granted me permission to take the reins and allowed me to drive. (Before anyone gets their dander up...no, I am not actually holding the reins here. Just a little photo-trickery)
Off toward the countryside I then travelled, along Shoddy Hill Road - the very same road curriers gallup down to pass on important news and information - possibly to warn the townsfolk of the Regular Army coming up to requisition their stores.
Ahhh...there 'tis. The breakback-style house belonging to the Daggetts' that is so popular in the 18th century.
Wheat
Throughout my time-travel journeys I have been able to witness chores and activities from a few different time periods, most notably the mid-1800s and the mid-to-late 1700s, and the one of the first things I noticed as I moved along the colonial farms to reach the Daggett residence is that not
much has changed in the way of the harvesting of crops from the two eras, nor has preparing the land for the next growing season. In fact, except for some slight improvements in the tools
used for the chores, one could scarcely tell too much of a difference between
the 90 year span, unless you factored in the contrast in the clothing fashion differences. No matter the fashion...when we think of fall, we think of harvest time. A time for the farmer to "reap what he'd sown." Well...not so fast. There was much to be done before we could enjoy what was "sown."
For example, flour, as you should know, is made from wheat, and each of its kernels of grain is covered by an outer layer called a husk.The stalks of this wheat plant were cut by hand with scythes and then tied into bundles. The use of a scythe is traditionally called mowing, now often known as 'scything' to distinguish it from machine mowing. According to the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, wheat was harvested by cutting the straw near the ground with a hooked hand “sickle” or “reaphook;” or mown with a “cradle scythe.” Cut wheat was gathered in bundles and tied into “sheaves.” Sheaves were then stacked upright into small stands called “shocks.” These temporary stacks were soon transferred out of the field to larger outdoor stacks, or housed, if possible, to await threshing. Threshing, which you will read about shortly, could occur throughout the fall and winter months.
~Scythes~ One
of the most well-known early farm and household tools, scythes, in our modern times,are now considered as an accessory
for horror movies or Hallowe'en costumes (the Grim Reaper or the 4th of the
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse comes to mind). This all important farming tool was used for cutting (or reaping) grain, stalks, grass, and other crops.
In the next step we need to separate the kernels from the plant (or wheat from the chaff). This is called threshing.
Threshing was conducted by using a “flail” (or stick tied to another stick) to beat the wheat heads, thereby separating the wheat berries from their “chaff” (or husk) and supporting straw. To flail, one stick is held and swung, causing the other to strike a pile of grain, loosening the husks. Cleaning the wheat commenced with removal of the long straw.
Preparing to thresh the grain with a flail by using a hay fork to rake it up onto the canvas tarp.
According to Encyclopedia Britannica, with a flail, one man could thresh 7 bushels of wheat, 8 of rye, 15 of barley, 18 of oats, or 20 of buckwheat in a day. The flail remained the principal method of threshing until the mid-19th century, when mechanical threshers became widespread.
Now there was another method of threshing called “treading,” which achieved the same separation by using horses running over the sheaves laid on a circular floor. Larger quantities of wheat could be threshed easier by treading compared to flailing which might yield only five bushels of clean wheat per day per thresher.
I've not seen this second method, so I will, instead, stick with the flail.
~Flail~ With a flail, one man could thresh 7
bushels of wheat, 8 of
rye, 15 of barley, 18 of oats, or 20 of buckwheat in a day.
The flail remained the principal
method of threshing until the mid-19th century, when mechanical threshers
became widespread.
And here I am using a flail to thresh the grain
Caught in mid-swing!
Separating the wheat from the chaff.
~Winnowing Basket~ To catch the grain.
Once the wheat was threshed, the kernels were put into a basket and tossed up into the air where the wind would catch the husks and blow them away, leaving cleaned grain behind to fall back into the basket. This was known as winnowing. The winnowing process also separated weevils or other pests stored in the grain.
With all you've read so far to "get" flour, we still have another step to go! Now we must use a hand quern, which would have been used when no other means of grinding wheat into flour was available.The quern, a tool from the iron age, was like a mini-gristmill andmight be used when one moved into a new settlement where no gristmill had been built yet. Of course, the manner of using a quern was not only a tedious task, but it took an excessive amount of time to get enough flour worth baking. Fortunately, most settlements had a gristmill not too distant away. There were some areas that had large grinding stones where the upper stone grinding wheel was turned by animals, generally oxen, while the bottom remained stationary. However, it was the water-powered gristmills housed in great two or three story structuressituated near a stream that were the most popular means of making flour from your wheat. Folks would haul their yield miles to go to the nearest water wheel mill, sometimes taking a day or more for travel time. Now, after all of these steps, you have flour (which is not nearly as fine as the flour you purchase in a 21st century store, by the way) and are ready to prepare to make and bake bread.
Okay - -just because your harvest is in doesn't mean you can sit back and relax until springtime. Prepping your land for the next growing season is a must, and one way to prep was by sowing cover crops (crops that are grown to enrich your soil for the next growing season).There was also plowing, harrowing and planting your root crops in the early fall for a spring harvest.
The most popular plow in the 18th century was the wooden mold- board, just as what you see here from around 1775. The mold- board is the part that lifts and turns the dirt. By the later part of the 19th century, the mold-board was made from cast iron. But both were pulled by horses in roughly the same manner.
For a farm family to survive, the work was never
done...so please keep this all in mind as we visit the
Daggetts.
I wasn't quite sure what Mr. Daggett was wanting me to do. Plowing to prepare the land for next planting? Harvesting? Making a rick of hay?
The Daggett Farm Hay:
The hay would have been made into a rick although some of it would have gone into the loft of the stable for horses.
A hay rick, by the way, is a stack of hay used as a covering or thatching for protection from the weather. Many farmers would bank their homes with hay during the fall to help insulate it from the winter's cold.
Samuel Daggett, a housewright by trade, built this break back/saltbox house sometime between 1746, when 40 acres of land was deeded to him by his father, and 1758, the year he married
his wife, Anna Bushnell.
I offered my assistance as the Daggett daughters, Asenath and Tabitha, worked hard in the kitchen, preparing the day's meal. 'Twas a fine harvest, allowing for a good serving of vegetables before preservation was
to begin.
Over
the Daggett hearth were more 18th century delectable delights, including Essence of Ham, Apple Tansy, Windsor Beans, Dressed Parsnips, Crookneck & Winter Squash Pudding, Applesauce, Apricot Chips, Hasty Fritters, Common
Peas Soup, and Brandied Peaches & Cheesecake for dessert.
Please click the following three links to learn about cooking a harvest meal during the 1760s:
From the kitchen garden...
The colonial farmer would have planted and cared fora variety of root vegetables such as turnips, potatoes, beets and other similar varieties, then, come fall, would have stored them in
stone-lined pits that would have prevented hard freezing. The earth is a great
insulator, especially on a small hillside, and these outside “root cellars,” dug deep enough and lined with stone, provided the protection needed. The stone lining not only insulates, but keeps the items stored away cleaner. The heavy wooden cover/door with added straw insulation made access throughout the winter possible. A heavy layer of snow would
further help to keep the storage area from freezing. This would
normally be in addition to the cellar of the house, also used for food
storage. Cabbages would have been pulled, root and all, and would have been stored in similar ways. Pumpkins and other winter squash would have been kept in house cellars or maybe in garrets (the attic), to prevent freezing. This would allow them to be used well into the winter months. Several other root vegetables like parsnips and salsify would have remained in the frozen ground of the garden and dug out as needed.
The kitchen garden
Beans and peas would have been dried and stored away in sacks in cool dry locations by this time of year. Dried peas and beans used in soups, stews, and baked bean dishes were left to fully mature on the vines or stalks in the field. Once completely dry, they were pulled by the roots and loaded onto a cart or wagon and hauled back to the barn. The partially dried plants could then be attached to long poles (in some cases) set up in the field. Once fully dried, the bean poles were then hauled back to the barn to await further processing. This allowed for a compact way to store them.
Drying plants, possibly to be used for dyeing wool, are hung in the Daggett kitchen.
Much like threshing grain, beans
and peas were laid out on a flat surface, usually on a tarp, and hit
with the wooden flail. Just like with wheat, the wooden flail would break apart the pods and loosen up the
dried beans or peas. Once loose from pods, the beans and peas were
carefully scooped up and then cleaned, again like wheat, by winnowing. Once clean, they would be stored
away in barrels or clean sacks. Dried green beans were re-constituted
and added to soups or stews in the winter and early spring when
nothing green was available.
Drying fruits and vegetables
With
careful planning, all these sorts of vegetables would carry over the
family’s needs until the new summer produce became available again. It’s no wonder that the first early greens from the garden were so
looked forward to after a winter of starchy root vegetables. When I visit the Daggett farm in the fall, I always find the family harvesting and storing away a variety of garden produce.
Drying plants for winter use hang over the kitchen fireplace
Besides
the varieties of squash, beans, lettuce and other vegetables being dried to
help sustain the family, Anna Daggett would have also grown plants for medical
purposes as well, including wormwood, which was a purgative for stomach issues
or worms, tansy was used to stop bleeding and bruising, and chamomile, which
was used, same as it is today, to make a calming tea.
Enjoying the fruits of their labor
Speaking of fruit:
Baldwin and Roxbury Russet apples: they're not pretty, but-oh!-the taste!
The chief beverage for our colonial ancestors like the Daggetts was not water or milk, for water wasn't always good to drink, and the warm milk from cows or goats wasn't a high preference. It was cider that was commonly served at meals, and the importance of cider in the history of our country cannot be overstated. If a farm had a large enough apple orchard they might also have had a cider mill or press as well, for most of the apples would have been made into cider rather than to have been eaten off the tree - a farmer planted apple trees more for drinking than for eating.
That's the hogshead you see here.
A typical farmstead might have had a dozen different apple varieties, and the taste of many of these ancient 'brands' were different than the sweet edible fruit that we know them to be today, and cellars would have been filled with the Rambo (from 1640), Baldwin (1740), Grimes Golden & Belmont (late 18th century), Roxbury Russet (from early 1600s), and the still popular McIntosh (late 18th century) varieties, waiting to be mashed and smashed into liquid; the intense smell of cider permeated the dirt cellars of farmsteads throughout this country. Each variety had a different characteristic, flavor, and were ultimately used in different ways, either for sale or for the family's own use. With such a large amount of apples, there was a need for storage, and those not packed carefully away in sawdust or hay were dried for a long-lasting affect, or were made into apple butter, apple sauce, pies, dowdies, dumplings, fritters, and, of course (and perhaps most importantly) cider. And, according to one source, it was the one who awakened last whose job it was to draw the day's cider from the hogshead (a large cask or barrel).
Apples...not for eating, but for drinking. And plenty of apples are needed to make a goodly supply of cyder.
The Daggetts had very limited technology
when it came to “canning” as we know it today. Fruit jams or preserves
were kept in small crocks or glass jars and sealed with bees wax, spirit soaked parchment, or animal bladders that when tightly drawn
over the jar opening, would dry and seal off the
jar (they were reusable). Lots of fruit was dried by slicing and
lying out in baskets or on wooden racks. Fresh fruit was carefully
packed in barrels whole to keep in a cool spot.
A family could never have too much wood: for warmth and for cooking.
Upon my own visitation to the
Daggett farm I have witnessed the spinning of wool into yarn as
well as the usage of flower peddles, roots and berries...and even beetles for the
colorful dyeing process.
The large walking (or great) wheel was
used to spin, and it's here where one can watch as
the dirty raw wool is carded by carding paddles before
actually being spun into yarn. As this procedure is done, the presenter
explains every step, as you shall see shortly.
The walking wheel - or great wheel - at Daggett farm
Here is a very good and entertaining video clip explanation on the spinning process, from carding raw wool through the wool becoming yarn.
In New England (where the Dagget farm was originally located), the use of great wheels slowed down greatly by the 1830swhen the technology of the textiles mills had advanced in their ability to process wool. That's not to say they were no longer in use anywhere, for rural farms continued their use for decades yet to come. One's access to the goods produced by textile mills was influenced greatly by one's location.
And the smaller Saxony wheel
Idle hands are the devil's workshop. There are no idle hands here in the Daggett house!
Outside in the yard a large vat of water is
boiled over a fire pit. This is part of the operation of having the spun
wool dyed to a variety of colors. The women of the family would hunt
through fields and woods for flowers, leaves, and bark to dye their
wool, crushing walnut shells for brown, goldenrod blossoms for yellow, and roots of the madder plant for red.
Searching for walnuts to be used for dyeing wool.
You may enjoy this short video clip I took to hear the explanation of how our colonial ancestors got the variety of colors in their clothing:
Plants, roots, and nuts crushed to make dye
Here is a run-down of what the folks at Daggett use for their presentation (from a Daggett Farm presenter):
Blue~the best dye for this is Indigo. There is a
plant called woad that could be used but it is highly invasive.
Brown~black
walnuts. The walnuts have to be allowed to rot, the longer they rot the darker
brown they will be.
Yellow~ The inner bark from the osage orange tree works, but the
easiest to find is calendula petals. Some people call the flower a pot marigold
as well.
Green~ the best way to get green is an over dye of blue and yellow. Dye
the yarn yellow first and then dip it in the blue.
Red~The cochineal beetle gives the best reds. With these a little goes a
long way.
Walnuts to be used for dye.
Pink~Pokeberry (it's nice that these can be used for something as the
seeds of this plant are toxic) Daggett has one of these plants in the garden.
Orange~Madder root. The madder plant needs to be taken out and the root
actually broken open (it will appear bright orange) I believe there is also a
madder plant at Daggett.
Purple~ Logwood
Black~This is an over dye of logwood and black walnut.
Before dyeing any wool yarn it needs to soak in a mordant; Alum is the one
that is used at Daggett. As with washing the wool one has to use the same temperature water and not
stir or agitate it or it will felt.
Also
these items get tied up in cheesecloth so that nothing sticks to the yarn.
The
ingredients are boiled in water until the liquid becomes the desired shade, then the skeins of yarn will simmer in the vat of dye.
Dye preparation
The finished product, ready to be made into some useful cold weather item. And to think these beautiful colors all came from the natural dyeing process.
And now we can see how some of the spun wool looks after being dyed by way of the above process:
Of course, with winter on its way, there are plenty of items to knit such as scarves, socks, mittens, and hats.
Passing away an afternoon in the fall of 1760 by knitting the garments for warm winter-wear...
The Daggett kitchen never stops during any time of the year but it's especially during the fall when the activity rises to its greatest heights. No truer adage for a woman is a woman's work is never done,for it seems to have been written more for the wife of the 1770s than for women of our modern time. But then, a man's work is never done was just as true for the colonial farmer or craftsman...
You see, the corn had to be cut and shocked, grain threshed, the hay stacked inside the barn, plowing, harrowing, the house banked against the winter weather, fences mended, wood cut, repairs to house and barn and furniture...
Twas a busy day at the Daggett home with activity occurring both inside and out.
Ah ha! I see why Mr. Daggett called
on me!
While the ladies of the house were
very busy cooking and preserving food, and spinning and dyeing wool, Samuel had his own chore outside making
a goodly amount of beer for the winter.
But before you make your fisted-hands-on-the-hip stance and scowl while saying, "Men!" in the harshest of tones through
pierced lips, please understand, beer and ale was a major dietary staple in the
colonies. Literally everyone partook.
And it was necessary.
Beer was the common item which
spanned generations; from cradle to grave, everyone drank beer. In fact, infants were
fed beer and it was especially recommended for nursing mothers.
“Permit me, Sir, the honour of assisting you in your endeavor.”
Farmers, laborers, merchants, lawyers, and craftsman all
drank beer. It was a common thread in all their lives and this
beverage would even play an important role in the formation of government.
It was not uncommon for drinking to begin even before breakfast and it
continued with every meal throughout the day.
I learned quite a bit on this day. Of course, I had a wonderful teacher.
Now, before you begin this diatribe on our "drunkard" ancestors, let me tell you, it just wasn't so; our founding generation was not falling down drunk all the time like the insinuationin the silly introduction of the all-knowing History Channel's "Founding Fathers" series, where a so-called "historian" makes a point to state something along the lines that it was a wonder
the Founding Fathers could even stand up with all the beer they drank. Well, hey! Guess what? Although there were those who drank to get drunk (just like in the
21st century), most in the colonial times drank beer because it was
healthier than water. Most did not drink to get inebriated.
I simply abhor these myths that try to make our founding generation look far less great than what I believe they were.
Preparing to make the beer
Ben
Franklin’s favorite type of beer could have been similar in gravity and
strength to the modern version of an Old Ale (1.060 to 1.086). Franklin’s own
writings refer to, “the type of strong, harvest-time ale, or October ale.” Yet, his regular drink couldn’t have been excessively strong because he was
known to have intellectual discussions in Taverns while, “lifting a few
pints of ale,” and Franklin felt (along with many of the time) that ale
was a healthful tonic if consumed in moderation.
In colonial times, brewers took malted barley and cracked it by hand. They would then steep (or soak) the grains (including corn) in boiling water.
They called the
process mashing.
Mashing:
Eighteenth century texts say to, “Bring your water to a boil and put it
into the mash tun. When it has cooled enough that the steam has cleared and you
can see your reflection in the water, add your malt to the tun." This translated to a mash temperature of approximately
154F. This mash temperature is supported by both Noonan’s recipe for an 1850
Scottish ale and Daniels’ recommendation for an Old Ale. Mashing allowed the brewer to
extract the sugars from the barley.
As I stirred the mash, I noticed it smelled just like the modern 'Malto-Meal.'
Seriously...it did!
Brewers in colonial times took the
mash they had created, which had the consistency of oatmeal, and dumped it into
a sawed-off whiskey barrel. The modified tub acted as a sieve, filtering the
sugary liquid from the grain. Modern brewers pass the mash into a device called
the mash/lauter tun for straining.
“Are we ready for the hops yet?” In researching the era, it is
believed that due to the high cost of imported hops and the documented hop
shortages in Colonial America, the hopping rates would have been appreciably
less than that of Old Ale and more comparable to a Strong Scotch Ale.
The colonial brewer returned the
strained liquid to the boil kettle, or the copper as it was called, for a
2-hour boiling. He added hops, chilled the brew, sprinkled it with yeast, and
drained the final product into wooden kegs. The brewer then placed those kegs
in a cellar for three weeks to a month.
Yeast is added, which helps turn the sugar from the malt into
alcohol.
'twas an honor to take part.
Social historian from Camden, New Jersey, Richard Pillatt, tells us a story of beer's importance in our history:
"After
we announced (that we were doing a historic beer-brewing demonstration) this summer, I was in a nearby restaurant eavesdropping
on some people who were discussing our publicity, and one of them asked the
other, 'what does BEER really have to do with history?' Well, in terms of daily
life in 18th-century Camden County, one word easily answers that question: 'Everything,' I said. Beer played a central role in the social, economic and
political life of almost all our regional ancestors. It provided daily
nutritional sustenance, it was made from the crops that they grew and bought
and sold in huge quantities, and it was the key lubricant in the networks of
local taverns that were the culture's primary social and political
venues."
~Hops on the barrel head~
It was a family affair, but it was for all the family to partake during the coming months of winter.
And here is a video clip of colonial beer brewing:
Hunting also occurred more often in the fall, for that's when the cooler temperatures could keep the meat that much longer without smoking or salting.
Time to go a-fowling...
The piece I am holding is a brown bess smooth bore fowler,
used mostly for hunting fowl, hence the name.
Men celebrated certain holidays, such as Thanksgiving, to go hunting or for turkey shoots, like the one in 1783 in Warren, New Hampshire, where hens and turkeys were tied to stakes and men paid four and a half pence to shoot a hen at a distance of eight rods, or nine pence to shoot a turkey from ten rods.
What? No football?
'Tis true that our modern semblance of Thanksgiving would bear little resemblance to the Thanksgivings of the 18th century in many ways. And yet, the similarities could be great as well.
To read more on early Thanksgiving celebrations, please click HERE.
Before I left, I made sure to spend a moment of time to relax with the Daggetts. I took in as much as I could of what it was like to be on a colonial farm, and I appreciated them allowing me to take part.
Ahh...tis
always a fine day when I visit my friend Samuel Daggett! And parting is always such sweet sorrow. However, he never
fails to send me off with gifts from his garden.
Samuel told me to return in a few months time and he shall have some beer for me.
Aye, I shall!
(not really - - I'm not a beer drinker, but it was great fun to help out in the making of it!)
It was time for me to continue my journey, for I had yet to visit the Giddings. With the condition of the roads not of a high
order, we wound snake-like over
hill and dale, through thick woods and meadow land, riding in the coach like a ship rocking or beating against a heavy sea.
As I rode along, I made a point to stop at this log cabin occupied by the Hamilton
family: Mr. & Mrs. Hamilton and their three children - David,
Daniel, and Ann.
(If you know
well Greenfield Village, then you might recognize this as the McGuffey
Cabin, built around 1789, though I did a little photographic trickery to
give it a more lived-in look! I chose the Hamilton Family because they
were the main characters in one of my favorite books as a child, The Cabin Faced West, half truth-half fictional drama about an actual family who lived in
Pennsylvania during the birth of our Nation.)
As there was a cold chill in the air, with a harsh wind a-blowing, I set myself down near the fire for a warm.
Mrs. Hamilton prepares the ingredients for a fall favorite, apple pie.
Ann stoked the wood and added more fuel, not only for the heat but for baking the apple pie.
To make an apple pie from a 1776 cookbook: make a good puff
paste crust, lay some round the sides of the dish, pare and quarter
apples thick, throw in half the sugar you design for your pie, mince a
little lemon peel fine, throw over, and squeeze little lemon over them, then a few cloves, here and there one, then the rest of your apples, and
the rest of your sugar. You must sweeten to your palate, and squeeze a
little more lemon. Boil the peeling of the apples and the cores in some
fair water, with a blade of mace, till it is very good; strain it, and
boil the syrup with a little sugar, till there is but very little and
good, pour it into your pie, put on your upper-crust and bake it. You
may put in a little quince or marmalade, if you please. From The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy by Mrs. Glasse (from 1776)
Aye, there is still another harvest chore that must be done for Mrs. Hamilton (and most other women of the time), for though in our modern day women of the past are looked upon as nearly a slave, they actually played such an important role in keeping their households - every bit as important as a man's work.
And both knew it:
Wife make thine owne candle,
Spare pennie to handle.
Provide for thy tallow, ere frost cometh in.
And make thine owne candle, ere winter begin
(Thomas Tusser - 16th century English poet)
I've been told that a typical middle class home in the 1750's would go through around 500 to 700 candles a year. And that may even be a conservative amount
for some. Of course, the well-to-do (such as the Giddings), who probably purchased their candles from the local chandler, could have burned double or even triple that amount without too much concern. Let's think about this for a moment - - there are 365 days in a year, and if one were to use a single candle per day, that right there is 365 candles needed. It only makes sense to doubling that amount when it comes to a light source, especially in the darkness of winter.
Most 18th century
homes were as self-sufficient as they could be and those who lived in them did their best to produce as
many things needful to life as they could, and this did include candles.As part of their domestic work, colonial women usually were the ones who carried the entire candlemaking process from start to finish, though many times the children, and even the men at times, would help out as well.
Artificial
light in the 18th century was truly a luxury. People were used to working by
daylight while indoors, so lighting a candle when the sun was up was rare. It
was customary for folks to move from room to room to get the most out of the
day's light. Generally, candles were lit only during the nighttime hours, and
sparingly so, due to the lengthy candle-making procedure.
In a one room cabin, three light sources would not have been an acceptable practice. Anne Hamiltonprobably would have had only the fireplace going, more than likely. If her mother found her to be so wasteful as what we see here, I'm sure a tongue-lashing would have been forthcoming.
Though it could be done any time of year (as long as there were supplies), the usual period for making candles
was in early-to-mid November. It had to be just
cold enough for quick hardening, and followed shortly after fall
hunting, where
the collected waist fat from the butchered animals was used to make tallow for dipping. These precious fats were hoarded carefully, protected in covered
crocks. The
animal fat
was cut into pieces and rendered (melted). The fat was boiled, caked, pressed, sieved, and purified several times. Tallow candles were very popular in the 18th century, and due to the idea that rendered lard was many times easier to obtain than beeswax, it was very common, especially out on the farm (city folk could purchase their candles from the chandler). It must be remembered that candle making was not the fun hobby then as it is in our modern times; it was a backbreaking, smelly, greasy task.
Wicks were made from cotton, hemp, linen, or, less often, from milkweed. If they lived near a general store, or maybe if a peddler
happened by, thick string could be bought to use as wicks.
Once the liquid from the fat was melted down, and the wicks were tied to the sticks, thewicks would then be dipped repeatedly into a tub of tallow (or beeswax), and with
each dip the candles became larger and larger until the desired length and
width was had.
It's here that we can quote Susan
Blunt, a woman from the early 19th century, who remembered her 18th century
mother candle dipping:
"Mother used to dip candles in the fall, enough to last all winter. When a
beef was killed in the fall, she would use all the tallow for candles. On the
evening before, we would help her prepare the wicks. The boys would cut a lot
of rods and she would cut the wicks the length of a candle and then string them
on the rods. "In the
morning she would commence her day's work...
"...She would dip each one in the hot
tallow and straighten out the wicks so the candles would be straight when they
were finished. By raising the candles (out of the kettle) at just the right
speed and working on a day with a moderate temperature, the fine quality of the
candles would be assured. The candles would be cooled overnight and the bottom
ends cut off neatly. The finished candles were packed away in a mouse-proof
container for safe storage."
Twenty five or so dippings later, the wicks were taken off the sticks and another set was tied on.
The woman in the above photo has only 696 more to dip to get to the 700 candle quota! Could this be Susan Blunt's mother? Naw...it was Mrs. Hamilton!
Of course, farms would also have bee hives on their property and, thus, be able to obtain the wax from the hive, as well as the honey for a sweetener. Where tallow had a pungent odor, beeswax had more of a sweet smell.
Either way, both types were popular in the 18th century.
As you probably have figured out, it took days to make the allotment of candles a family needed. Again, it was a mundane task, many times left to the children, but it was a necessary one.
And your kids get angry at you when told to put away their clothes! Do you think they could survive living in colonial times?
With the gift of a candle, it was time to be on our way once again, for the day tended to fly by faster than time itself.
As we make our way down the rugged path, our final stop for this visit will be at the home of merchant and ship builder John Giddings.
Greeting me on the other side of the hill was this beautiful scene from October 1770. This is the home of John and Mehetabel Giddings, which originally stood in Exeter, New Hampshire from around 1750 until Henry Ford brought it to Greenfield Village in 1929.
Now, the Giddings have little or no need to worry about plowing or harrowing land, or even dipping candles, for in his occupational trade, Mr. Giddings has the wealth and means to supply the family with most of what they need, including purchasing candles from the local chandler. They wear much fancier garments than farmers wear, and even have servants to help keep the house clean, warm, lit, and prepare their meals.
I was kindly welcomed into the home by Mary Giddings.
Mary and Dorothy Giddings were planning a harvest celebratory tea and awaited for their guests to arrive. They welcomed me to sit as I waited for the arrival of their father and offered me some Black Caps. Black Caps are apples that are baked in their skin upon ashes (or sometimes under or before a fire). The skins sometimes burn on one side, and make, well, Black Caps.
This was such a delicious treat that some people would imagine that it was time to seek another world if Black Caps were abolished.
(keep reading for the recipe). The ladies also served up Queen's Cake, Butter Drops (the cookies), as well as a plate of Chocolate Almonds - all popular dishes of the later 18th century.
'Twas a cooler fall day than usual this early October, and a warm fire was much needed and appreciated. I willingly helped Dorothy in getting some warmth into the room by adding fuel to the fire. (No, I did not actually place the log on the fire. I held it for the picture)
"You do me the honour, Miss Giddings, of allowing me to enjoy this fine repast of treats as such I've not had in many a day."
After an enjoyable delight, I asked if I may step into the kitchen to thank the servant for doing such a fine job in her cooking expertise. Though a bit befuddled, Miss Giddings honoured my request.
Inside the Giddings kitchen, where the fine foods of the house are cooked over the hearth by their hired girl.
Colonial Ken at your service.
"I wish you a good day, Madam. May I compliment you on such a fine repast of savory delights?"
The Giddings' servant girl made Black Caps in this way:
Cut 12 large apples in half and take out the cores and place them on a thin patty pan, or mazarine, as close together as they can lie, with the flat side downards; squeeze a lemon in two spoonfuls of orange-flower water and pour over them; shred some lemon peel fine and throw over them, and grate fine sugar all over; set them in a quick oven and half an hour will do them. When you send them to table, throw fine sugar all over the dish.
From The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy by Mrs. Glasse (from 1776)~
Before baking...
The kitchen cooking fire...
Well, the daylight was beginning to wane and I knew my time was nigh. And because, in this day without instant mass communication, I knew not when the very busy Mr. Giddings would arrive home, and I could no longer wait, so I found it best for me to be on my way.
So I bid the young Miss Giddings a fond farewell and continued finding my way back to the future.
The
coach dropped me off at the tavern in town. As much as I enjoyed my
stay in the autumn time of year in the 1770s, I knew it was time for me
to journey through the continuum of time and space...back to the 21st
century...to rejoin my family.
But there was one more story to hear about...and it involved night time.
It was only natural at early American harvest time get-togethers, when the communities would gather for such harvest time activities as corn-husking parties, apple paring parties, sugar and sorghum making days, and even at thresherman dinner parties, that ghost stories would become an integral part of these autumn celebrations. Many American ghost stories evolved from actual superstitions and rituals practiced by those who lived in the British Isles
The harvest moon through corn stalks
These tales of the ancestral dead were told and retold by the elders to a spellbound crowd, late at night, after all of the activities were done, when the moon was fully risen and the trees outside shook with the autumn wind. That's when people gathered around a fire and told one another tales of the silenced dead lying in graves nearby. As for All Hallow's Eve (better known as Hallowe'en), Goblins, imps, fairies, and trolls were thought to do a lot of mischief on that night; it was the night spirits were out, and farmers bolted their doors and avoided walking alone at night. This was the night when doors were blocked with carts, or attacked with a fusillade of turnips. Plows and carts were carried off and hidden. Gates were taken off their hinges and thrown into a neighboring ditch or pond. Horses were led from the stables and left in the fields a few miles away.
The telling of ghost stories on Hallowe'en derives from both the Druids' belief that the ancestral dead arise on this night and the Christian directive to honor the souls of the departed at Hallowmas.
And these stories came across the ocean with those seeking a new life in the new world.
I have learned plenty during my time at a colonial harvest. I hope you did, too.
But, now I must journey to my own period...the 21st century...
Back to the future:
Happy
and I'm smiling, walking miles to
drink your water.
Let
us close our eyes, for outside their lives go
on much faster. Once I used to join in; every boy and girl was my friend.
Oh, we won't give in, let's go living in
the past.
(Modified Jethro Tull lyrics)
When the farmer has fallowed and tilled all the land,
And scattered the grain with a bountiful hand
And the team that had labored with harrow and plough,
Has conveyed the rich produce safe home to the mow. Sing, Harvest Home! Harvest Home!
And shout with full voices our Harvest home!
~ ~~~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I really, really enjoy wearing 1760s and 1770s period clothing. And because there are fewer reenactments of this period in my general area than I would like, I sometimes feel the need to sort of make up my own kind of 'personal events,' meaning I will grab any and every opportunity that comes my way to throw on my one or two-buttoned shirt, waistcoat, coat, breeches, cravat, stockings/hose, buckle shoes, and cocked (or tricorn) hat and head off to Greenfield Village (or anywhere else historical)...just because.
I hope what you see here doesn't make me seem like I'm vain or anything of that sort because I'm in so many of the photos, for I am not that way at all. What I wanted to do was to put myself into period scenarios strictly out of my love and want for being a part of history.
Does that make sense?
Until next time, see you in time - - -
Many, many thanks to Ian & Carrie Kushnir and April Folcarelli for
coming out to Greenfield Village with me and taking such wonderful
photos. I appreciate it!
(All other pictures - you know, the ones I'm not in - were taken by me).
To learn about a 19th century harvest, please click HERE
To study in greater detail the workings of the Daggetts and their home, please click HERE
To learn more about Taverns and Travel in the 18th century, please click HERE.
To learn more about food and cooking in colonial times, please click HERE
Autumn food preparations of (mostly) the 19th century HERE
Days of Autumn Past in Photos HERE
For an overview of everyday life during colonial times, please click HERE
Celebrating Patriot's Day - the New England Holiday - at Greenfield Village: HERE
And to learn about celebrating Christmas in colonial times, please click HERE
Happy Thanksgiving...in the colonial times - please click HERE
SOURCES:
Much of my info came from the presenters at Daggett Saltbox Farm House in historic Greenfield Village Other info came from the presenters at Firestone Farm House, also in historic Greenfield Village And still more came from Jim Johnson of The Henry Ford (Greenfield Village) Some bits came from THIS SITE. And other farming info came from CSU Harvest andFarmscape Books that helped me out for this posting include: The Gristmill by Bobbie Kalman Diary of an Early American Boy and Seasons of America Past by Eric Sloane
Some of the information about beer brewing came from THIS Benjamin Franklin site.
And THIS SITE as well.
However, much of the brewing information also came from the master brewer at the Daggett Farm in Greenfield Village, Mr. Roy Mayer.
It was easy to see the importance of the baskets in everyday colonial life. It seemed that every period-dress female was carrying one. I believe each was made right here in Colonial Williamsburg.
