Peddling a Myth

On February 23, 2016February 22, 2016 By kittycalashIn Events, Fail, History, Living History, Reenacting13 Comments

Paul Sandby RA, 1731–1809, British, London Cries: Last Dying Speech and Confession, ca. 1759, Watercolor over graphite on medium, cream, slightly textured wove paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

Every now and then, I reach the dammit! point of my research, where I am forced to realize that Everything I Assumed Was Wrong. I try to make those moments a cause for celebration, even though they’re often deeply frustrating. Do not pass GO, Do not collect $200, Go directly to the Library.

What now?

Well… Boston ain’t London. And the North American colonies ain’t Great Britain. The business structure, the size of the cities, is different. Distribution of goods is different, thanks to tariffs and non-import/export laws. Which means?

Peddling. It’s not a thing. Or it’s a very difficult thing to document.
Which means that all the things I’d thought about doing for the Massacre (day or night) are probably wrong. (Remember, this is when we celebrate!)

Hey, I’m not the only one rethinking my approach.

But there it is: I’ve looked in the Boston Selectmen’s Minutes for 1768-1771, and while there is plenty of small pox (yay!) and many lemons being imported (yay! punch!) and there are licenses being granted for selling strong drink in inns and houses, there are no peddlers licenses. There are no licenses for street vendors of any kind. Hmmmm….

I’ve also read the Dublin Seminar publications Itinerancy in New England and New York (1984) and Life on the Streets and Commons, 1600 to the Present (2005). Not looking good here for street vendors and hawkers pre-1800.

While I never particularly trust early 20th century monographs and articles without footnotes, the somewhat entertaining Hawkers & walkers in early America : strolling peddlers, preachers, lawyers, doctors, players, and others, from the beginning to the Civil War informed me that street vending was not common in North American British Colonies, and in fact, was not commonly seen until after 1800.

What the ever-loving heckers?

I found peddlers’ licenses in Philadelphia for 1770: all men. But so far, nothing in Providence, Boston, or Newport (or Connecticut). The theory is that itinerant sales people didn’t pay taxes the way merchants did, and that merchants therefore lobbied against them. In Providence, the earliest mention I’ve found thus far is a lobster and fish man at the Great Bridge in 1818.

Just as the watch of Boston differed from the watch in London, so too, it seems, did the petty retailers. I still can’t quite believe there were no street peddlers and hawkers in colonial cities, but I’ll need a new way to approach this question.

On the Street Corner

On February 10, 2016February 10, 2016 By kittycalashIn History, Living History, Reenacting2 Comments

Paul Sandby RA, 1731–1809, British, London Cries: "Turn your Copper into Silver Now before Your Eyes" (Title Page Design), 1760, Watercolor, pen and gray and brown ink over graphite on medium, cream, slightly textured laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection — Paul Sandby RA, 1731–1809, British, London Cries: “Turn your Copper into Silver Now before Your Eyes” (Title Page Design), 1760, Watercolor, pen and gray and brown ink over graphite on medium, cream, slightly textured laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

Not everyone who’s standing on the corner is up to no good. Some have legitimate business.

In the London of the past, just as in, say, the Manhattan of today, street vendors hawked a variety of goods. Having gone through multiple versions of Cries of London, I’ve come up with a basic list of the items sold on the street.

Love songs
Stationery
Oranges
Boot laces
Reeds for chair mending
Saloop See also salop.
Gingerbread
Muffins
Hot cross buns
Doormats
Cats’ and dogs’ meat
Coal
Lavender
Ribbons

Paul Sandby RA, 1731–1809, British, London Cries: A Girl with a Basket on Her Head ("Lights for the Cats, Liver for the Dogs"), ca. 1759, Watercolor, pen and brown ink, and graphite on medium, cream, slightly textured laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection — Paul Sandby RA, 1731–1809, British, London Cries: A Girl with a Basket on Her Head (“Lights for the Cats, Liver for the Dogs”), ca. 1759, Watercolor, pen and brown ink, and graphite on medium, cream, slightly textured laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

Boot black
Brushes
Flounders
Rhubarb
Walnuts to pickle
Cucumbers
Bandboxes
Baskets
Brooms
Rabbits
Pins
Mops
Wash balls (soap)
Strawberries
New peas
Rosemary and bay
Strings of onions
Turnips and carrots

There’s seasonality to this, of course. Strawberries and cucumbers are not being hawked on the streets of London, Boston, Newport or New York in February. I’ll tell you: being a Cat’s-meat-[wo]Man is practically a childhood dream, since I knew I could never really learn to speak to the animals, and as it happens, Sandby depicts one. It seems there was gender equity in supplying food for pets and stinking of meat.

Paul Sandby RA, 1731–1809, British, London Cries: A Milkmaid, ca. 1759, Watercolor, pen and brown ink with graphite on medium, cream, slightly textured wove paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

I’ve long been fond of the milkmaid, probably because she’s relatively clean, has a cloak for warmth, and I can understand what she does. As much as I love “Turn your copper into silver,” I lack real skill at charlatanry. And gambling. I don’t play poker: my face is too easy to read. Still, if you’re doing this right, there’s a lot to invest in being a milkmaid: kettles (likely pewter), measuring cups (tin? or possibly pewter), and a yoke. It’s a commitment. Cat’s meat– if you’re good with stank and have the right basket*, you’re pretty okay.

If not stank or drank, then gaming. It looks like the object of the game is to knock down the three balls at left in the background by hitting another ball, or perhaps a stone, with the stick. Ha’penny a throw? Maybe you just throw the stick.

Paul Sandby RA, 1731–1809, British, London Cries: Throws for a Ha'penny Have You a Ha'penny, undated, Brown wash, gray wash, graphite, and black chalk on medium, cream, slightly textured laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection — Paul Sandby RA, 1731–1809, British, London Cries: Throws for a Ha’penny Have You a Ha’penny, undated, Brown wash, gray wash, graphite, and black chalk on medium, cream, slightly textured laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

This is another instance wherein I am faced with historical things I don’t know nearly enough about: gambling and street games, pet care and keeping. Cat boxes: when we were they invented? We know cat litter is a 1947 invention, and that sand or ashes were used in cat boxes when cats were kept inside, but for the most part, they went in and out, and mostly out, until cat boxes and neutering became common, though an 1895 manual recommended that “the cat in civilization must be fed, looked after, and guarded in its moments of freedom.“**

cat care — Yes, I went there. I looked it up.

It’s more than 100 years after the time I’m investigating, but I don’t want to fall too far down this cat’s meat rabbit hole– but this does tell me that the historical images of indoor cats come with oat or straw filled baskets in sunny corners, and recommendations for galvanized pans filled with sand, clean earth, or sawdust, which may be ideal, as it can be burned.

Right, I need to focus and not entertain myself with children’s books about Old Dame Trot and her cat…dressed up. In 1810.

My point is, there’s a lot to sell on the streets of any town, images to support the material culture and reference books from which we can derive contextual clues to the impression of something as random as a cat’s meat man or woman. I don’t know that I’m leaping to be a Cat’s-meat-Woman, but it leads to a lot of interesting interpretive points about domestic life, pets, and families that visitors can relate to much more easily than street sales. Of course, if you choose to be the Cats-meat-Man, I won’t stop you from calling yourself Mr Friskies.

*See that flat do-da? I have a similar basket. It does appear one could hawk oysters from a basket like the one I have. Mmmm good.

**Huidekoper, Rush Shippen, 1854-1901. The cat, a guide to the classification and varieties of cats and a short treaties upon their care, diseases, and treatment. 1895: New York, D. Appleton and company

Mountebanks, Watchmen, and Questionable Women

On February 9, 2016February 8, 2016 By kittycalashIn History, Living History6 Comments

Mountebanks at night. watercolor by Paul Sandby, 1758 Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

Sometimes I think I’ll forgo the dressing up and going out in public, and just do the research; the world that exists in my mind is pretty satisfactory, and within it, Boston doesn’t have the GPS-killing skyscrapers of the financial district or the motor-powered vehicles that seem bent on killing pedestrians. Instead, it has horse-drawn vehicles, equally ready to run you down.

But: in thinking about the people on the margins, the people in the backgrounds of images, the people casually mentioned– “so hard to find a cook when you need one”–in letters, I’ve been looking at even more images. Here, a mountebank, illuminated by a torch, performs on a washtub outside a tavern (Good eating every Day) for a crowd of men, women, and children. Much texture here, and many people one could aspire to be.*

Let’s get the watchman out of the way.

Is that a snarl or he is just happy to see the mountebank he can bash over the head with his prodigious stick? He’s carrying the obligatory lantern, here apparently made of tin with horn, glass, or mica windows. It looks like he’s slung it over the stick, where it is caught by by the knob to keep it from sliding.

It’s a Great Coat, really: the button-embellished flap (pocket slit?), the deep sleeve cuffs, the taped buttonholes all serve to make this coat impressive and intimidating.

On his head, a rakishly angled black wool hat worn over…a cap? Help me out here, gents. It looks like a linen cap that covers the very crest of his ear. Is that possible? Or he is tonsured? If so, you’d think he’d want a cap for the cold…

Next up: the girl with a basket. She raises a lot of questions for me when I zoom in close. Yes, Virginia, she really is wearing a cast-off regimental under a short red cloak. I’ve never understood how women came to possess these coats, but look closely and you’ll see the blue cuffs and plackets on the sleeves, the pocket flap sticking up just below her basket, and the long skirt of the red coat. (That’s a dog, not a killer shrew, between her feet.)

Her hair is a mess, too; we can speculate on reasons for that, but let’s go with a long, busy day as a servant, and not freelance corner-based activities.

What’s in the basket? A bottle? A decanter? A funnel? Hard to tell. Is she someone’s serving girl, sent out to the liquor dealer? If she is, why that coat? Is the man in red next to her grasping her elbow? Possibly…(and doesn’t he have a nice red double-breasted coat?)…and if that’s a uniform he’s wearing, is that her connection to the coat she is wearing? So many questions.

In the center background, there’s a young woman escorting a male child; she may be an older sister, but I think it’s also likely she’s a nursemaid. In the background at the left, two ladies are seen from the back, clearly wearing neat caps and jaunty hats. They’re moving away from the mountebank and the crowd, probably on their way home, respectability leaving the dangerous streets.

It’s as much a mix of people as you might find outside the Pret a Manger on State Street today. Somewhere in that crowd, there is someone to be.

*In a nod to riots recent, let us note there are 5 or 6 women shown here, 14 men, 5 children, 2 dogs and 1 monkey. That’s a 40:60 ratio of women to men. Children are, in general, grossly underrepresented in living history. Let’s talk about that someday.

Undocumented but Not Alien

On February 7, 2016February 7, 2016 By kittycalashIn Events, Living History, personal, Philosophy, Reenacting1 Comment

Cherries. The Itinerant Traders of London in their Ordinary Costume, from Modern London; being the history and present state of the British Metropolis. Illustrated with numerous copper plates - British Library — Cherries. The Itinerant Traders of London in their Ordinary Costume, from Modern London; being the history and present state of the British Metropolis. Illustrated with numerous copper plates – British Library

Sometimes it’s hard to know how a riot gets started; other times, the cause is pretty clear. I’ve started one or two myself. The latest stems from Our Girl History’s musings on the Massacre.

There’s a lot to unpack, and it’s been happening online and in private conversations. Yes, children, Aunt Kitty pays attention, even if she’s silent. This is a tough topic: how can modern feminists represent historical women in a patriarchal culture without losing their minds? How can events better reflect the actual past? The population has, historically, always been about 50-50 male-female. We understand why there aren’t women on battlefields. We get that traditional events (by which I mean the ritualized commemorations of battles) have ridiculously gender-segregated and inauthentic roles. We get that it’s hard to adapt to new ideas, even free, documented ones.

The irritation and anxiety I feel as I expand the kinds of events I attend is actually reassuring: that’s how I know I’m learning. The frustration we feel means we’re banging up against a wall that we can break down with research.

Paul Sandby, London Cries: Black Heart cherries... ca. 1759. YCBA, B1975.3.206 — Paul Sandby, London Cries: Black Heart cherries… ca. 1759. YCBA, B1975.3.206

It’s not easy research: women not married to or otherwise affiliated with prominent men are poorly documented. We may never know their names– or we may have a name from a census, newspaper ad, or city directory, and nothing more. But we can fill in the gaps with interpretation. (As it happens, I’ll be talking about this very idea in just a few weeks. Come taunt me in person.)

There’s a lot to think about in recreating the past, in particular at this event. The organizers have done a phenomenal amount of research, gathered the details, sorted them out, assigned roles, scripted and timed an event, and recruited a chorus of characters that reflects the texture of a tense city in 1770.

Building an event, even one that recreates an actual moment in the past, is as much as work of theatre or fiction as it is of fact: character development, motivations, costuming, setting, all of those combine with the documented words to create a scene that conveys an interpretive point for the public. It’s similar to a museum exhibition– it’s interpreted.

Traditionally, living history has interpreted the past with a bias to men’s roles (that’s the nature of our society, folks) and with a tendency to assign roles and activities by gender (again, the nature of our society for centuries). Our task in breaking that pattern is not to right the injustices of the past, for we cannot, but to interpret them.

What about the people in the background? Playing the game at quadrille : from an original painting in Vauxhall Gardens. London : Robert Sayer, ca. 1750. Lewis Walpole Library, 750.00.00.14

One way to do that is to bring the undocumented, or poorly documented, people of the past to light. I tried to do that in exploring Bridget Connor. I’ve tried to do that by interpreting a late 18th/early 19th century servant. It’s a long and frustrating process, reading letters and diaries for scraps of information, usually casual references to servants and cooks. But in the frustration lies the promise: we will find the people on the margins, and bring them in to clearer focus.

Kirsten Hammerstrom

Tag: Research

Peddling a Myth

On the Street Corner

Mountebanks, Watchmen, and Questionable Women

Undocumented but Not Alien