A friend emailed earlier today to tell me that John Philip Sousa was born on this date in 1854. I have always maintained that Sousa’s influence is underappreciated by contemporary society, probably because to modern Americans he seems like such a social and cultural anachronism. Really he was the progenitor of Ellington, Armstrong and even Coltrane, who like Sousa played in a military band. In Coltrane’s case the Navy. Here is the United States Marine Band earlier today at Sousa’s resting place in Congressional Cemetery.
Augustus Kollner lithograph, circa 1850s; Library of Congress
Last night I was listening to it rain and watching episode one of Dayton Duncan and Ken Burns’s The American Buffalo. I had about fifteen minutes still to go when a friend emailed and said he had finished the entire two-part, four-hour series. It led to a brief email back and forth in which we agreed that we had both learned some things we had not known. Some of the buffalo story was of course familiar: the centrality of the bison to Native American life for centuries, the land hunger and push ever-westward in the years just before and after the Civil War, the way the railroad companies advocated—successfully—for the annihilation of the great herds. Other parts of the story were less familiar to me, such as the use of buffalo-hide leather in literally turning the gears during the Industrial Revolution. Two years I took a trip to the Mystic Seaport Museum. Until that visit I did not grasp the full role of whaling in the industrial economy. In some ways the whale and buffalo are analogous. For one thing whale oil lubricated the gears rotated by the buffalo-hided belts that turned the spinning wheels on the factory floors of the Eastern mill towns. What is more, the remains of the whale and the buffalo were used in clothing, combs, corsets, jewelry, glue and just about everything one can imagine.
Burns and his colleagues have covered aspects of the buffalo story over what are now decades, most obviously in the nine-part The West (1996) and six-episode The National Parks: America’s Best Idea (2009). There is a through line in the corpus of work; some of the historical figures and themes that appear in The American Buffalo were naturally present in those earlier projects too. Burns and his colleagues have gone deeper here in this effort and given us a fuller picture. I’m looking forward to learning more tonight when I watch the concluding episode.
Ben Franklin arriving in Philadelphia on October 6, 1723 as depicted by E. Boyd Smith in the 1910s. His future wife, Deborah Read, stands in the background.
A big project at work that will run through the end of the semester has taken me temporarily away from some of my other projects, but I’m doing what I can to keep my other irons in the fire. Today marks a significant moment in the history of British North America, even if no one recognized it at the time. How could they have? It was three hundred years ago today, October 6, 1723, that the seventeen-year-old runaway Benjamin Franklin arrived in Philadelphia. Several weeks previously he had fled Boston and the indentured servitude contract he had signed with his abusive older brother, unsuccessfully sought printer’s work in New York City, and finally made his way on that Sunday morning to Market Street. In his Autobiography, written in late middle age, Franklin remembered that “my whole stock of cash consisted of a Dutch dollar, and about a shilling in copper. The latter I gave the people of the boat for my passage, who at first refus’d it, on account of my rowing; but I insisted on their taking it. A man being sometimes more generous when he has but a little money than when he has plenty, perhaps thro’ fear of being thought to have but little.”
I have a fairly firm grasp of Civil War historiography but I must say that I still have a steep learning curve when it comes to that of the Colonial and Revolutionary eras. One can’t understand the history without knowing the historiography behind it. Colonial and Revolutionary War memory is much more involved than that of the War of the Rebellion, and yet surprisingly thin. I don’t understand why. As for Franklin’s sojourn itself, it was not until 1980 that a historian proved conclusively that it was indeed on October 6 that Franklin arrived in Philadelphia. Apparently there had been talk after that discovery of designating October 6 “Ben Franklin Day” in Philadelphia, sort of like the annual Patriots Day in several New England states. That never came to pass, but later today the University of Pennsylvania is hosting a three hundredth anniversary celebration from 12:00-2:00 pm. Above we see an illustration by the noted children’s book illustrator E. Boyd Smith from a 1916 edition of Franklin’s Autobiography showing the young man starting his new life three hundred years ago today.
I’m up early today because I’m off to the rehab center to visit a friend who suffered a bad fall in late August. He was in the hospital for several weeks until being transferred to this second facility. Our meeting on a Sunday was already pre-planned but I made a conscious effort yesterday to avoid mass transit after Friday’s storm knocked out much of the system. I’m still recovering from the ninety minute walk home on Friday afternoon. I say that knowing I am one of the fortunate ones. Many had it worse than I did. I must say though that getting home was a grind.
I received an out-of-the blue email earlier this week from an editor to whom four years ago I submitted my manuscript about Civil War Era New York City. It didn’t get picked up them for a few reasons, none of which were insurmountable. Still, for whatever reason I chose not to pursue it, put the thing in a drawer, and moved on to other pursuits and intellectual interests. I may well submit it again, perhaps even this afternoon when I return from the city. Should it even get picked up, returning to it would be a bit of a challenge after the passage of several years. Friends and family however have been pressuring me these past several months not to let it go, so maybe it’s all a sign.
A friend texted yesterday about the passing of Brooks Robinson, which I had not seen until receiving his message. When I was growing up the Orioles were one of the most dominant American League teams. He had a little something to do with that. I see that the Orioles are having a public service tomorrow at Camden Yards. It’s somehow fitting that Robinson died in a moment when the Orioles have returned to form after so many years of being dreadful. The regular season ends today.
I’m having my morning coffee before heading out for what will be a long day. I wanted to take a few brief moments however to note that Jim Croce and Maury Muehleisen died on this date fifty years ago today. Maury Muehleisen’s name may be less familiar to many, but it was his guitar work that made so much of Croce’s work come to life. Croce was thirty and Muehleisen all of twenty-four when the plane in which they were flying from Natchitoches, Louisiana to an upcoming show in Texas crashed. They and four others were all killed.
When Jim was in the Army National Guard there were banks of pay telephone booths on base from which at scheduled times enlisted men were allowed to call home. Croce never forgot the scenes he sometimes saw play out in which men who had received Dear John letters called their wives or girlfriends to learn as much as they could in the amount of time their ten cents allowed to learn why their sweethearts had left them. From those experiences came one of Jim Croce’s most poignant songs.
Hank Williams was born on this date in 1923. I noticed that there are a number of events in various places across the country and around the world this weekend through the coming week to commemorate what would have been his 100th birthday. I think it’s lost on some what a universal figure Hank is. Go half way around the world and you will find people who listen the man who is still the father of country music. His power was in the directness of the message. “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” “Why Don’t You Love Me (Like You Used to Do)” “Mind Your Own Business” Three chords and truth applied to no one more than Hank. Whatever his flaws as a human being—and they were many—Williams always regarded himself as a work in progress and capable of redemption. That’s what makes his gospel recordings so powerful.
I hope everyone’s Labor Day weekend is going well. After the grind that was the first full week of the academic year I consciously stepped away from anything work-related on Saturday and Sunday. Today I’ll do laundry, clean the house, and send some emails. I’m in the midst of a project this semester that has proven more complicated and time-consuming than I’d originally envisioned. I’m trying to learn a few new skillsets on the fly, which to put it mildly has been a challenge. I’m trying to control what I can and pace myself for the remainder of what will be a challenging term. Yesterday I went to the Brooklyn Museum of Art. It was a gorgeous late summer day. Prospect Park was full and Eastern Parkway lined with vendors.
Daniel Huntington’s 1861 “The Republican Court (Lady Washington’s Reception Day)”
One of my favorite spots in the Brooklyn Museum is the visible storage facility. I’ve seen similar layouts at the New-York Historical Society, Metropolitan Museum of Art, and Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery/American Art Museum. Apparently the Henry Luce Association funded these and similar facilities, most if not all of which have names mentioning Luce . Visible storage, sometimes called open storage, is a way for museum visitors to view items not on display in the galleries. Strolling through I noticed Daniel Huntington’s “The Republican Court (Lady Washington’s Reception Day).” It portrays one of First Lady Martha Washington’s fêtes at the Presidents House in Philadelphia in the 1790s. It’s actually quite large, about six feet tall and twelve feet across. The year if came out—1861—is significant. The Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association had been founded in 1853, and they opened Washington’s home as a museum in 1860. As the secession crises was heating up both sides were claiming the Founders as their own. Huntington produced this work the year of Fort Sumter and First Bull Run.
A quick dive into the Brooklyn Daily Eagle informs us that Latham Avery Fish purchased “The Republican Court (Lady Washington’s Reception Day)” for $3,300 from the A.T. Stewart collection in 1887 and sold it for that same value to the Alexander Hamilton Club at Clinton and Remsen Streets. The Union League Club of New York also coveted the painting but fell short in the bidding. Years later, President Theodore Roosevelt, a devout Hamiltonian, tried to purchase the artwork for $50,000—upwards of $1.5 million in today’s dollars—for the Library of Congress. That fell through. The Hamilton Club eventually merged with the Crescent Club and when the Hamilton clubhouse was torn down in the mid-1930s this and other pieces ended up moving to the Crescent clubhouse at Clinton and Pierrepont Streets. It became a fixture of Washington’s Birthday commemorations. Crescent-Hamilton Athletic Club members were generous with the painting, lending it to the Brooklyn Museum in 1932 for a big exhibit coinciding with the George Washington bicentennial. It really is one of the most iconographic pieces of Washingtonia, which is saying a lot. As I have been able to gather, the Crescent-Hamilton Athletic Club donated “The Republican Court (Lady Washington’s Reception Day)” to the Brooklyn Museum in 1939. I’m glad it has remained in the borough.
It is the first full week at my college. I’m having my coffee before heading out in a little bit for what will be a full day. Today is the 247th anniversary of General Washington’s evacuation of Brooklyn. Had the British pushed harder it all could have ended in late August 1776, less than eight weeks after the Declaration of Independence. The plaque above stands in the entranceway of the Brooklyn Heights Promenade. It is actually not known for certain if it was at the Four Chimneys House that Washington held his council of war. Others such as General John Morin Scott, who was there, said it was at the nearby home of Philip Livingston. It is one of those things that likely will never be known for certain. I’m re-upping this post I wrote earlier this year for Morristown National Historical Park about John Glover, who with his men rowed Washington and his men across the East River that fateful day.
This was the scene yesterday at Brooklyn’s Old Stone House for the commemoration of the Battle of Long Island, which took place 247 years ago today. You can see Brooklyn’s urban sprawl in the distance, which Revolutionary War historians were noting in books about the conflict as early as the 1850s. Friends and I agreed that the event was bigger than last year’s, which was our first time attending. We were talking afterward at the reception with figures from the Maryland State Chapter of the Society of the Cincinnati and local members from various units of the Sons and Daughters of the American Revolution, and all agreed that this was the case. They are expecting it to grow through 2026, the 250th anniversary. I won’t go into details because it’s not my story to tell, but we learned too of several interesting projects in the works. Afterward a small group of us walked down to the nearby American Legion post, in the vicinity of which many men of the Maryland 400 rest today. There is some signage explaining the significance of the site. We stayed for a short time and the Legionnaires treated us graciously. It’s good to see people keeping history alive.
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Prison Ship Martyrs Monument, August 2023
It was a gorgeous day in the city yesterday for the Urban Park Rangers hike in Fort Greene Park commemorating the Prison Ship Martyrs. It was just one event taking place as part of Battle Week, the annual commemoration of the Battle of Long Island. The two rangers were excellent and the crowd engaged. I met a lot of interesting folks. As if one cue, earlier today the editors at Emerging Revolutionary War Era uploaded my article about the history of the martyrs and the monument dedicated to them. If you live in Greater New York, note that events are taking place around the city through next Sunday.
The Strawfoot 