Category: 1880s

Categories
1880s Short Story Sketch Trees

Vegetable Clothing

Vegetable Clothing

By C. J. Russell
Annotations by Mary Miller/KK
King Charles’s Vegetable Necktie. Original illustration
by D.C. Beard from St. Nicholas Magazine, 13, no. 2
May – October 1886), 524.

About two hundred years ago the governor of the island of Jamaica, Sir Thomas Lynch, sent to King Charles II. of England a vegetable necktie, and a very good necktie it was, although it had grown on a tree and had not been altered since it was taken from the tree. It was as soft and white and delicate as lace, and it is not surprising that the King should have expressed his doubts when he was told that the beautiful fabric had grown on a tree in almost the exact condition in which he saw it. It had been stretched a little, and that was all.

But if King Charles was astonished to learn that neckties grew on trees in Jamaica, what must have been the feelings of a stranger traveling in Central America, on being told that mosquito-nets grew on trees in that country? He had complained to his host that the mosquitoes had nearly eaten him up the night before, and had been told in response that he should have a new netting put over his bed.

Satisfied with this statement, the traveler was turning away, but his attention was arrested by his host’s calmly continuing, “in fact, we are going to strip a tree anyhow, because there is to be a wedding on the estate, and we wish to have a dress ready for the bride.”

“You don’t mean,” said the traveler incredulously, “that mosquito-netting and bridal dresses grow on trees, do you?”

“That is just what I mean,” replied his host.

“All right,” said the stranger, who fancied a joke was being attempted at his expense, “let me see you gather the fruit and I will believe you.”

“Certainly,” was the answer; “follow the men, and you will see that I speak the exact truth.”

Still looking for some jest, the stranger followed the two men who were to pluck the singular fruit, and stood by when they stopped at a rather small tree, bearing thick, glossy-green leaves, but nothing else which the utmost effort of the imagination could convert into the netting or the wedding garments. The tree was about twenty feet high and six inches in diameter, and its bark looked much like that of a birch-tree.

“Is this the tree?” asked the stranger.

“Yes, señor,” answered one of the men, with a smile.

“I don’t see the mosquito-netting nor the wedding-dress,” said the stranger, “and I can’t see any joke either.”

“If the señor will wait a few minutes he will see all that was promised, and more too,” was the reply. “He will see that this tree can bear not only mosquito-netting and wedding-dresses, but fish-nets and neck-scarfs, mourning crape [1] or bridal veils.”

The tree was without more ado cut down. Three strips of bark, each about six inches wide and eight feet long, were taken from the trunk and thrown into a stream of water. Then each man took a strip while it was still in the water, and with the point of his knife separated a thin layer of the inner bark from one end of the strip. This layer was then taken in the fingers and gently pulled, whereupon it came away in an even sheet of the entire width and length of the strip of bark. Twelve sheets were thus taken from each strip of bark, and thrown into the water.

A light broke in upon the stranger’s mind. Without a doubt these strips were to be sewn together into one sheet. The plan seemed a good one and the fabric thus formed might do, he thought, if no better cloth could be had.

The men were not through yet, however, for when each strip of bark had yielded its twelve sheets, each sheet was taken from the water and gradually stretched sidewise. The spectator could hardly believe his eyes. The sheet broadened and broadened until from a close piece of material six inches wide, it became a filmy cloud of delicate lace, over three feet in width. The astonished gentleman was forced to confess that no human-made loom ever turned out lace which could surpass in snowy whiteness and gossamer-like delicacy that product of nature.

The natural lace is not so regular in formation as the material called illusion [2], so much worn by ladies in summer; but it is as soft and white, and will bear washing, which is not true of illusion. In Jamaica and Central America, this wonderful lace is put to all the uses mentioned by the native to our traveler, and to more uses besides. In fact, among the poorer people it supplies the place of manufactured cloth, which they can not afford to buy; and the wealthier classes do not by any means scorn it for ornamental use.

Long before the white man found his way to this part of the world, the Indians had known and used this vegetable cloth; so that what was so new and wonderful to King Charles and Governor Sir Thomas Lynch was an old story to the natives. Some time after King Charles received his vegetable necktie, Sir Hans Sloane, whose art-collection and library were the foundation of the British Museum, visited Jamaica. He described the tree fully, and was the first person who told the civilized world about it. The tree is commonly called the lace-bark tree. Its botanical name is Lagetto lintearia.

Wells, c.j. “vegetable clothing,” St. Nicholas Magazine 13, no. 2 (May – October 1886):524-25
Lace-bark dress. Photograph: © Saffron Walden Museum,
Essex (Image No. 000491).
Lace-bark slippers. Photograph: © Royal Botanic Gardens,
Kew (EBC 67770).

[1] A veil worn by grieving women in Victorian times. Crape was a matte silk gauze that had been crimped with heated rollers; dyed black; and stiffened with gum, starch, or glue.

[2] Illusion, also known as tulle, is a fine netting fabric made of nylon. Appearing delicate and sheer, it has enough strength to be gathered and made into a bridal veil.

Contexts

This story represents an unusual example of respect for indigenous knowledge, all the more remarkable as it was written during the height of Western Imperialism. Antigua’s history and culture is complex. Inhabited first by indigenous Siboney and, later, Arawak and Carib Indians, the island’s colonization by whites began when a group of English settlers arrived in 1632, inaugurating its development as a valuable sugar colony and trading port. In the seventeenth century, sugar cane became the biggest source of income for the British overlords, who used slaves and indentured servants to cultivate, harvest, and process the plant. Uniquely among British Caribbean colonies, when Britain abolished slavery in the empire in 1834, Antigua immediately instituted full emancipation. The island became an associated state of the British Commonwealth in 1967, gaining full independence in 1981.

Resources for Further Study
Contemporary Connections

The lace-bark tree has been identified as a source for eco-friendly fabrics. See “Eco-fibres old and new” from the Kew Gardens webpage.

Jamaica Kincaid’s A Small Place is a native Antiguan’s acerbic address to tourists which likens current tourism to a new form of colonization, enslaving the locals and featuring environmental racism. The narrated version, read by Robin Miles, is delightful. Here is a small sample.

Monica Drake recounts her family’s visit to Antigua in “Jamaica Kincaid’s Antigua.”

Categories
1860s 1880s Poem

Three Bugs

Painting of insects and flowers, 17th century. Jan van Kessel the Elder. Public domain.

Three Bugs

By Alice Cary
Annotations by Karen L. Kilcup
Painting of insects and flowers, 17th century, Jan van Kessel the Elder. Public domain.
Insects and flowers by Jan van Kessel the Elder, 17th century. Public domain.
 Three little bugs in a basket,
 And hardly room for two!
 And one was yellow, and one was black,
 And one like me, or you.[1]
 The space was small, no doubt, for all;
 But what should three bugs do?
  
 Three little bugs in a basket,
 And hardly crumbs for two;
 And all were selfish in their hearts,
 The same as I or you;
 So the strong ones said, “We will eat the bread,
 And that is what we’ll do.”
  
 Three little bugs in a basket,
 And the beds but two would hold;
 So they all three fell to quarreling—
 And two of the bugs got under the rugs,
 And one was out in the cold!
  
 So he that was left in the basket,
 Without a crumb to chew,
 Or a thread to wrap himself withal,
 When the wind across him blew,
 Pulled one of the rugs from one of the bugs,
 And so the quarrel grew!
  
 And so there was war in the basket,
 Ah, pity, ’tis true, ’tis true!
 But he that was frozen and starved at last,
 A strength from his weakness drew,
 And pulled the rugs from both of the bugs,
 And killed and ate them, too!
  
 Now, when bugs live in a basket,
 Though more than it well can hold,
 It seems to me they had better agree—
 The white, and the black, and the gold—
 And share what comes of the beds and the crumbs, 
 And leave no bug in the cold!
Cary, Alice. “Three Bugs.” First published in The Children’s Hour: A Magazine for the Little Ones (September 1868): 101-2. This version from The Poetical Works of Alice and Phoebe Cary (New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1882), 168-69.

[1] Cary’s bug-narrator assumes that both she and her readers are white.

Contexts

Cary published her poem during a troubling period in the United States. “Three Bugs” first appeared only three years after the Civil War ended, but it reappeared into at least the 1920s. In 1922, Course of Study for United States Indian Schools recommended it as an appropriate text for first-graders. Teacher training schools in the 1910s and 1920s also recommended it as a reading for various primary grades. A 1925 book for Dallas Public Schools includes it as a recitation piece about “peace among neighbors.” What’s remarkable here is how Cary artfully conveys to both children and adults the grim consequences of failing to share resources. The poem indirectly argues for environmental justice.

Resources for Further Study

“Environmental Justice / Environmental Racism.” Energy Justice Network. This site has numerous links to sources on EJ, climate justice, environmental racism and classism, and EJ law and policy.

Kilcup, Karen L. Stronger, Truer, Bolder: American Children’s Writing, Nature, and the Environment. Athens: U of Georgia P, 2021.

Skelton, Renee, and Vernice Miller. “The Environmental Justice Movement.” NRDC (Natural Resources Defense Council). 17 March 2016.

Pedagogy

“Analyzing Environmental Justice.” Learning for Justice. Grade levels 6-8, 9-12.  This site includes questions, activities, vocabulary, and much more.

“Social Justice, Environmental Justice, and the Elementary Child.” Montessori Services. This site offers general advice for lessons, with a focus on “hope and empowerment.”

“Environmental Justice Toolkit.” With project ideas for grades K-12, this site contains numerous concrete examples and provides links to some major community resources.

Contemporary Connections

Numerous contemporary organizations—local, regional, and national—are confronting the challenges of achieving environmental justice. For example, North Carolina, the home state for The Envious Lobster and the birthplace of the U.S. environmental justice movement, has the North Carolina Environmental Justice Network, the North Carolina Conservation Network, and the North Carolina Climate Justice Collective, to name only a few. The issues these organizations address range from water contamination by coal ash and factory farming to food deserts and forest destruction.

Categories
1880s Short Story

The Mountain Hut

Scan from color transparency

The Mountain Hut

By Rebecca Harding Davis
Annotations by josh benjamin
Henry Ossawa Tanner. Mountain Landscape, Highlands, North Carolina. Watercolor, pencil, and colored pencil on paper mounted on paperboard, 1889, Smithsonian American Art Museum and its Renwick Gallery, Washington, D.C.

David, with his uncle and sister, had ridden far into the Balsam Mountains of North Carolina one day, leaving the bridle-path behind them and pushing their way through the underbrush of laurel and rowan, when a storm overtook them.

 “There should be a hut on the bank of this stream,” said their uncle, “if my memory does not fail me.c

“I see it,” said David. “But it is more like a piggery than a dwelling for human beings, like most of the houses of these mountaineers.”

“These mountaineers are a kindly, honest folk, whatever their houses may be, and I am never afraid to claim a welcome, which I cannot always say of those who live in cities,” his uncle retorted.

The welcome in this case was given cordially. The hut was built of logs, between which were wide cracks; the rain beat in and ran down the floor.

“I like a plenty of air,” said their hostess, piling up logs on the hearth.

Her bed was a mattress of husks – it filled one corner, a rough pine table another; a heap of sacks full of roots lay piled near the door. The cooking utensils were a coffee-pot and two iron frying-pans. The woman stirred some corn-meal with water, filled one of the pans, put on the lid, and covered it with hot ashes; the other held a sizzling mess of fat pork.

“Yes, we’re very comfortable,” she said, proudly, observing Polly’s curious glances. “Got everything snug and genteel. I’d be powerful sorry to live like some folks.”

David followed his uncle out to the covered shed, where he sat looking at the pelting storm. “I never supposed any human beings lived in such solitude,” he exclaimed. “Why, she has not left the mountain for twenty years; she never has seen a town larger than the village of Waynesville—she did not know there was any larger.” [1]

“Still it is impossible for any living beings to shut themselves off from their kind. If you look a little farther, you will be surprised to find how widely connected this poor lame creature is with the rest of the world.”

“This coffee, which is making such a comfortable smell just now, came to her from the far-off Brazils; black-bearded mulattoes picked it for her on the shores of the Amazon; other slaves in the West Indies grew her the pepper which she is sifting on the meat; English mill-hands in Manchester wove her Sunday calico gown; mild-eyed Chinamen gave her tea; even this hen clucking at my feet came from eggs from Poland. [2]

“There is scarcely a State in the Union which has not its part in this poor little hut. Here is an axe; Pennsylvania gave the iron, Connecticut the handle. Here is sugar from Louisiana, rice from Georgia, shoes from Massachusetts.”

“The world is very liberal to the old woman,” said David, laughing. “She ought to give something in exchange.”

John Mackie Falconer. Farm House, North Carolina. Etching on paper, 1880, Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, New York, NY.

“Perhaps she does. We will look into that presently. I told you that we were all closely bound together. In a well-furnished city house there is scarcely a country in the world which is not represented, if you choose to search it out. You ask what the old woman sends back. Come, let us ask her. What is in this bag, for example?”

“Roots—Angelica,” promptly responded their hostess. “Pays eight cents in the pound, delivered in the village yonder. The doctors use it in the North to cure nervous people. That next bag – – – But set up, set up; dinner’s ready. Fall to, young folks; there’s plenty of it, sech as it is,” hospitably urging great chunks of hot Johnnycake on them and delicious yellow butter. David and Polly “fell to” with good will. [3]

“The other bag, you were about to say?” suggested their Uncle.

“Oh yes; ginseng. I gather heaps of that ‘ere. [4] My son takes it to the store, and it is shipped to New York, and from thar to China. Them poor heathen will pay its weight in gold for some kinds of ginseng. I don’t know what they do with it though.” [5]

“Going to China?” David said, looking respectfully at the sack.

“The Chinese believe that it gives fresh life to mind and body; cures all kinds of diseases. They mix it with dried caterpillars to give to insane people, and with powdered tigers’ skulls for the cure of grief.”

Polly laughed. “And what is in that smaller sack?” she asked.

“That is another root that goes with the ginseng to China. It has a pleasant smell, but I don’t know the name.”

“They burn it before their josses, to ensure themselves long live.”

“There is a queer gummy stuff in the bottle yonder. Does it go to China also?” asked Polly.

“No; that’s balsam. It’s the gum of these trees outside, with the black trunks. You’re nigh five thousand feet above the sea. They won’t grow no lower. They’re a mighty proud tree; and the chestnuts and oaks and sech like can’t grow so high, so you’ll notice on most of these mountings a barren strip between them whar thar’s nothing green.”

“But the bottle of gum? Is it used for mucilage?” asked David.

“No, no,” cried Polly, who had put the bottle to her nose. “I have smelled this often in cough-medicines and plasters and cures for burns.”

“What keen little eyes and nose you have, Polly,” said her brother, “for everything but books. Is she right, uncle?”

“Yes. Although the balsam commonly used in medicine comes from Russia. The supply from these mountains is very small. It sells high?” turning to the woman.

“Ten dollars a quart here, and more ef you kerry it to town. Oh, thar’s a fortune in balsam! [6] Bar-skins is worth a powerful sight of money, wolf-skins not quite so much. My baby (I call him my baby, though he’s twenty-one, bein’ the youngest), he took down some peltry yesterday. Bar, wolf, deer, coon and boomer. They do tell me ladies up North have them bigger skins to cover their coachmen’s feet; but I don’t believe it. They’ve surely got wit to know what fine bedspreads they make.” [7]

The children by this time had finished their dinner. “Here are some strange-looking yellow stones,” said Polly, with an inquiring glance.

“Oh, them rocks? You see a man was around hyar prospectin’ for mines, and he left word with my boy to look out for sech rocks as that, and mark the place. Expects to find gold, I reckon?”

“Something more valuable than gold. This is yellow corundum.”

“What is it used for?”

“This coarse kind is ground to make emery, which Polly sharpens her needles with. The finer corundums are the sapphire and the oriental ruby.” [8]

“Oh!” cried Polly, breathlessly. “Do you mean that rubies are to be found here—here?”

“One was found in the next county worth six thousand dollars,” said the mountaineer. “I suppose the folks that live in towns couldn’t get along very well without us North Carlinyans,” smiling. “We send ‘em lumber and iron and gold and medicine, and even rings for their fingers.”

The rain had eased, and they bade her a cordial good-by, and rode away.

“Instead of being in a solitude, she is quite in the centre of things,” said David, laughing.

“I told you that we were all tied together by fine cords,” said his uncle; “you are just beginning to find out how many of them there are.”

DAVIS, REBECCA HARDING. “THE MOUNTAIN HUT.” THE YOUTH’S COMPANION 58, NO. 27 (JULY 1885): 271.

[1] According to 1890 census data, Waynesville township (a larger area that included the towns of Hazelwood and Waynesville) in Haywood County had a population of 2,506; Waynesville town alone had 455 residents. [10]

[2] The last enslaved people in Brazil were freed on May 13, 1888. British slavery in the Caribbean was slowly ended between 1807 and 1838, French slavery was abolished in 1848, and the Dutch ended it in 1863. Spanish slavery continued in Puerto Rico until 1873 and in Cuba until 1886.

[3] Angelica, also known as wild celery, is in the carrot family and has roots, seeds, leaves, and fruit used for medicine. Johnnycake is a cornmeal flatbread.

[4] Ginseng was a lucrative southern Appalachian crop, particularly from 1860 through the 1880s. The U.S. exported over 6 million pounds in the 1880s. The people who gathered ginseng to sell were called “sang diggers” or “sangers.” [11]

[5] In the 1800s, discrimination against Chinese people was widespread in the U.S., and the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 was the first major law to restrict immigration.

[6] Balsam resin is similar to sap. In Western N.C., it was often collected from Fraser firs (often called “balsams”) by poking the blisters it forms on the bark. [12] Ten dollars in 1885 would be almost $270 in 2020.

[7] Black bears (“bar”) are common in North Carolina’s Blue Ridge Mountains, as were the now-rare red and gray wolves. State records show the last gray wolf was taken from Haywood County in 1887. “Boomer” was a local term for the red squirrel.

[8] Corundum can be any color, although rubies and sapphires are common. Only diamond and moissanite are harder minerals.

Contexts

Rebecca Harding Davis was a famous, important nineteenth-century American writer for adults, perhaps best known for her short story “Life in the Iron Mills,” which brought the conditions of life for industrial workers to a large audience. She wrote several “local color sketches” in the late 1870s and 1880s, often using the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina as a setting. Davis had seen the mountaineers firsthand and frequently used their existence in remote nature as a contrast with outside visitors, often from northern states. [9]

Definitions from Oxford English Dictionary:

joss: A Chinese figure of a deity, an idol.

mucilage: An adhesive consisting of an aqueous solution; gum, glue. A viscid preparation made from the seeds, roots, or other parts of certain plants by soaking or heating them in water, used medicinally in soothing poultices, tisanes, etc.

Resources for Further Study

[9] Rose, Jane Atteridge. “Homebound (1875-1889).” In Rebecca Harding Davis, 103-131. Twayne’s United States Authors Series 623. New York, NY: Twayne, 1993. Gale eBooks. Accessed September 21, 2020. https://link-gale-com.libproxy.uncg.edu/apps/doc/CX2322800015/GVRL?u=gree35277&sid=GVRL&xid=f2e89f8f.

[10] https://www2.census.gov/library/publications/decennial/1910/abstract/supplement-nc.pdf

[11] Manget, Luke. “Sangin’ Io the Mountains: The Ginseng Economy of the Southern Appalachians, 1865-1900.” Appalachian Journal 40, no. 1/2 (2012): 28-56. Accessed September 27, 2020. http://www.jstor.org/stable/43489051.

[12] Sidebottom, Jill. “Chapter 2 – Why Fraser Fir?,” 2014. Accessed September 27, 2020. https://christmastrees.ces.ncsu.edu/christmastrees-chapter-2-why-fraser-fir/.

Categories
1880s Poem

January and June

January and June

By Margaret Johnson
Annotations by Josh Benjamin
Original illustration by Jessie McDermott from St. Nicholas, p. 172.
Said January to June:
     “Pray, let us walk together.
The birds are all in tune,
     And sunny is the weather.

“And look you: I will show,
     Before the long day closes,
A pretty sight I know,
     Worth all your summer roses.”

Then, as they went, the air
     Grew thick with snowflakes flying;
But all the roses fair
     Hung down their heads, a-dying.

Cried June, in sorrow: “Nay, 
     We may not walk together.
You've turned my skies to gray,
     And spoiled my golden weather.

“Go now, I pray you, go,
     Before my last bud closes.
Take you your cold white snow,
     And give me back my roses!”
Johnson, Margaret. “January and JuNE.” St. Nicholas; an illustrated magazine for young folks 10, No. 3 (January 1883): 172.
Contexts

This poem illustrates a common theme in literature and nature writing of treating nature as female. In this instance, the accompanying illustration solidifies the notion of the seasonal qualities of January and June as embodied female figures. There are many other examples where the land or other natural features are given female qualities either overtly or subtly, such as in the two canonical examples below.

Dear Nature is the kindest mother still;
   Though always changing, in her aspect mild:
   From her bare bosom let me take my fill,
   Her never-weaned, though not her favoured child.
   Oh! she is fairest in her features wild,
   Where nothing polished dares pollute her path:
   To me by day or night she ever smiled,
   Though I have marked her when none other hath,
And sought her more and more, and loved her best in wrath.

-From "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" by Lord Byron


I am the Earth, Thy mother; 
She within whose stony veins, 
To the last fibre of the loftiest tree 
Whose thin leaves trembled in the frozen air, 
Joy ran, as blood within a living frame, 
When thou didst from her bosom, like a cloud 
Of glory, arise, a spirit of keen joy!  

-From Prometheus Unbound by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Women’s fashion in the 19th century, as shown in the illustration that accompanied this poem, appeared in Godey’s Lady’s Book and Magazine, which featured contents such as this list from 1884:

  • Beautiful Steel Engravings.
  • Excellent Portraits of Ex-Presidents of the United States.
  • Full Size Cut Paper Patterns.
  • Illustrations of Architectural Designs.
  • Pieces of Nicely Selected Music.
  • Pages Illustrating Household Furnishing.
  • Pages Illustrating Fancy Work, in Colors or Black and White.
  • Illustrations of Fashions, in Colors.
  • Choice Recipes for the Household.
  • Illustrations of Fashions, in Black and White.

Godey’s Lady’s Book vols 106-107 (1883)

Godey’s Lady’s Book vol. 107 (1883)

Godey’s Lady’s Book 107, no. 641, November 1883.
Resources for Further Study
  • The first chapter, “Nature as Female,” of Carolyn Merchant’s The Death of Nature: Women, Ecology and the Scientific Revolution is an excellent historical overview of nature as a female figure, particularly as the idea developed during the 16th century.
  • Another book by Merchant, Earthcare, “explores the many aspects of the association of women with nature in Western culture and their roles in the contemporary environmental movement. It looks at the age-old connections between women and nature, symbols of nature as female, and women’s practices and daily interactions with the earth.”
  • Annette Kolodny’s The Lay of the Land includes the essay “Unearthing Herstory,” which discusses the idea of land as feminine.
  • Sarah Orne Jewett, not included in this anthology, is another 19th and early 20th-century writer whose work includes ideas of nature and gender. You can read her work at the Sarah Orne Jewett Text Project.
Categories
1880s Poem

Will O’ The Wisp

Will O’ The Wisp

By Laura E. Richards
Annotations by Josh Benjamin
Cover of Harper’s Weekly 40, no. 538 (April, 1867).
“WILL O’ THE WISP, Will o’ the wisp,
Show me your lantern true!
Over the meadow and over the hill,
Gladly I’ll follow you.

“Never I’ll murmer, nor ask for rest,
And ever I’ll be your friend,
If you’ll only give me the pot of gold
That lies at your journey’s end.”

And after the light went the brave little boy,
Trudging along so bold;
And thinking of all the fine things he'd buy
With the wonderful pot of gold:

“A house, and a horse, and a full-rigged ship,
And a ton of peppermint drops,
And all the marbles there are in the world,
And all the new kinds of tops.”

Will o’ the wisp, Will o’ the wisp,
Flew down at last in a swamp.
He put out his lantern and vanished away
In the evening chill and damp.

And the poor little boy went shivering home,
Wet and tired and cold.
He had come, alas! to his journey’s end,
But where was the pot of gold?
Original illustration by Addie Ledyard from St. Nicholas, p. 117.
Richards, Laura E. “Will O’ the wisp.” St. nicholas; an illustrated magazine for young folks 8, No. 2 (December 1880): 117.

Contexts

Merriam Webster’s entry on the will o’ the wisp offers a brief summary of the origins of the phenomenon:

The will-o’-the-wisp is a flame-like phosphorescence caused by gases from decaying plants in marshy areas. In olden days, it was personified as “Will with the wisp,” a sprite who carried a fleeting “wisp” of light. Foolish travelers were said to try to follow the light and were then led astray into the marsh. (An 18th-century fairy tale described Will as one “who bears the wispy fire to trail the swains among the mire.”) The light was first known, and still also is, as ignis fatuus, which in Latin means “foolish fire.” Eventually, the name will-o’-the-wisp was extended to any impractical or unattainable goal. (“Will-o’-the-wisp.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster.)

This story is an interesting mix of superstition and natural history. The will o’ the wisp, like many other naturally-occurring phenomena, was beyond human understanding for much of its history. The lack of understanding often leads to inventive tales to explain what we can’t explain.

Resources for Further Study
Categories
1880s Poem

A March Violet

A March Violet

By Emma Lazarus
Annotations by Maggie Kelly/JB
Mary Vaux Walcott. Butterfly Violet (Viola papilionacea). Watercolor, 1923, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington, D.C.
Black boughs against a pale clear sky,
Slight mists of cloud-wreaths floating by:
Soft sunlight, gray-blue smoky air,
Wet thawing snows on hillsides bare;
Loud streams, moist sodden earth; below
Quick seedlings stir, rich juices flow
Through frozen veins of rigid wood,
And the whole forest bursts in bud.
No longer stark the branches spread
An iron network overhead.
Albeit naked still of green;
Through this soft, lustrous vapor seen
On budding boughs a warm flush glows,
With tints of purple and pale rose.
Breathing of spring, the delicate air
Lifts playfully the loosened hair
To kiss the cool brow. Let us rest
In this bright, sheltered nook, now blest
With broad noon sunshine over all,
Though here June’s leafiest shadows fall.
Young grass sprouts here. Look up! the sky
Is veiled by woven greenery.
Fresh little folded leaves—the first,
And goldener than green, they burst
Their thick full buds and take the breeze.
Here, when November stripped the trees.
I came to wrestle with a grief:
Solace I sought not, nor relief.
I shed no tears, I craved no grace
I fain would see Grief face to face,
Fathom her awful eyes at length,
Measure my strength against her strength,
I wondered why the Preacher saith,
“Like as the grass that withereth.” [1]
The late, close blades still waved around;
I clutched a handful from the ground.
“He mocks us cruelly,” I said:
“The frail herb lives, and she is dead.”
I lay dumb, sightless, deaf as she;
The long slow hours passed over me,
I saw Grief face to face; I know
The very form and traits of Woe.
I drained the galled dregs of the draught
She offered me: I could have laughed
In irony of sheer despair,
Although I could not weep. The air
Thickened with twilight shadows dim:
I rose and left. I knew each limb
Of these great trees, each gnarled, rough root
Piercing the clay, each cone of fruit
They bear in autumn.
                                    What blooms here,
Filling the honeyed atmosphere
With faint, delicious fragrancies,
Freighted with blessed memories?
The earliest March violet,
Dear as the image of Regret,
And beautiful as Hope. Again
Past visions thrill and haunt my brain.
Through tears I see the nodding head,
The purple and the green dispread.
Here, where I nursed despair that morn,
The promise of fresh joy is born
Arrayed in sober colors still,
But piercing the gray mould to fill
With vague sweet influence the air,
To lift the heart’s dead weight of care.
Longings and golden dreams to bring
With joyous phantasies of spring.
Louis Eilshemius. Night Through Forest. Oil on fiberboard, 1889, Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

Lazarus, Emma. “A March Violet,” in The Cambridge book of poetry and song, ed. charlotte fiske bates, 337-38. Thomas Y. Crowell & Co., 1882.
Contexts

Emma Lazarus is best known for her sonnet “The New Colossus,” which is featured on the Statue of Liberty’s pedestal.

Definitions from Oxford English Dictionary:

draught: The drawing of liquid into the mouth or down the throat; an act of drinking, a drink; the quantity of drink swallowed at one “pull.” A dose of liquid medicine; a potion.

galled: (a) Affected with galls or painful swellings. (b) Sore from chafing. figurative. Irritated, vexed, unquiet, distressed.

Resources for Further Study

For more biographical information about Emma Lazarus and her legacy of activism, visit The Jewish Women’s Archive, Women of Valor and National Women’s History Museum. The Emma Lazarus Federation of Jewish Women’s Clubs grew out of the Jewish People’s Fraternal Order (JFPO), a division of the International Workers Order (IWO). The Cornell University Library has a digital collection of IWO and JFPO documents.

[1] This line likely refers to the Book of Yeshayahu (Isaiah) from the Hebrew Bible, or Tanakh, chapter 40, verses six through eight: “The voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field: The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: because the spirit of the LORD bloweth upon it: surely the people is grass. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever.”

Categories
1880s Poem

The Dead Leaves of Winter

The Dead Leaves of Winter

By M. M. Folsom
Annotations by Josh Benjamin
Mary Vaux Walcott. Untitled (Curled Autumn Leaves). Watercolor on paper, 1872, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington, D.C.
          The dead leaves of winter
            Look all out of place
          ’Mid the merry surroundings 
            Of spring’s budding grace.         
              Tossed hither and thither,
              They little reck whither; 
A blot and a stain on the sunshining weather.

          The dead leaves of winter!
            Ah! cutting and cold
          Were the rough winds that severed
            The last tender hold;
              Thrown withered and crushed
              Where the wild torrent rushed,
’Neath the nest of the singer whose songs are aye hushed. 

          The dead leaves of winter!
            They call to my mind
          The outcasts, the waifs
            And the wrecks of my kind:
              No kind word e’er spoken—
              Soulsick and heartbroken—
Of hope in the world not a tithe or a token.
Folsom, M. M. “The dead LEaves of Winter.” The Golden Argosy 3, No. 24 (May 1885): 190.
Contexts

Late 19th century industrialization in the U.S., which developed so rapidly that regulations to protect workers were inadequate, led to a poor quality of life for many industrial workers and the eventual formation of labor unions. See the Resources section below for additional information.

From the University of Pennsylvania Penn Libraries Online Books Page for The Argosy, which also has links to digitized versions of the complete issues:

“The Argosy was an American fiction magazine published in the 19th and 20th centuries. The Argosy was founded in 1882 by Frank Munsey as ‘The Golden Argosy’, and was originally a children’s newspaper. It adopted the name The Argosy in 1888, and went to a pulp magazine format in 1894. It absorbed Railroad Man’s Magazine in 1919 and for a short time was titled ‘Argosy and Railroad Man’s Magazine’. It merged with ‘The All-Story’ in 1920, and published as ‘Argosy All-Story Weekly’ for much of the 1920s, but resumed the shorter ‘Argosy’ name after the launch of a new ‘All-Story’ in 1929.”

Definitions from Oxford English Dictionary:

aye: (a) Ever, always, continually;  (b) at all times, on all occasions. (Now only in Scottish and northern dialect).

reck: Care, heed, consideration. Chiefly in negative contexts. (Now archaic and literary.)

tithe: A grant; a favour, a concession. 

Resources for Further Study

Categories
1880s Column Essay

Care of the Eyes

Care of the Eyes

By Dr. J. H. Hanaford
Annotations by Jessica Abell
Artist unknown. Eye. Watercolor on ivory, c. 1900, Smithsonian American Art Museum and its Renwick Gallery,
Washington, D.C. [1]

Having but two eyes, and both being absolutely necessary to good and accurate sight, measuring distances, &c.[2], it becomes necessary to take good care of our eyes, and to learn, not only what injures them, but how we can avoid danger, and improve the sight. If one supposes that he can see as well with one eye as with both, let him close one, and then try to quickly bring together two pointed objects, as two pencils, or the finger ends, one of each hand, first extending the arms, and he will learn that his sight is not very accurate, that he cannot measure distances accurately.

But how shall we avoid injury to sight? A glare of light is always more or less injurious to the eye, generally causing pain, which is usually a warning, a caution. When the eye “waters,” the ball feels sore, or aches, or smarts, when it seems as if “sticks” were in the eyes, as some children complain, it is as if the eye should say, “My little boy, or girl, take care; you are spoiling these eyes, and soon may become blind, unless you stop your abuse.” None would wish to exchange places with the blind, who see nothing—no beautiful flowers, no sunset skies, none of their friends; but grope their way through the world, or are led by some friendly hand.

We cannot look safely at the sun, even when in eclipse, without a “smoked glass,” seeing as “through a glass darkly.” A steady look at the sun, shining in all his brilliancy, would soon destroy the sight, as in the case of criminals, whose eyelids are sometimes cut off, in some barbarous countries, the poor creatures looking at the sun without any protection. For the same reason, the glare of the sunlight, reflected from new snow, is oppressive and painful, always injuring the sight. The same is true of very bright light, as that of gas, shining directly on the page when one is reading, or writing, &c., producing a glare and pain, particularly if the light is reflected to the eye. A shade on the lamp or gas, or one worn over the eyes, will do much toward obviating the injury. Again, while too much light, or too much of a glare, is injurious to sight, too little is also unfavorable. Reading, writing, sewing, &c., at twilight or by an inferior light, is nearly as bad, taxing and weakening the eyes, sometimes producing inflammation, or redness of the eyes. If we overtask the eye, or any member of the body, we are sure to suffer. While proper exercise, a proper use of any member or power, increases our strength, too much effort, or abuse, will always weaken or destroy.

Artist unknown. Eye Miniature on an Elliptical Ivory Box. Watercolor on ivory, c. 1800, Smithsonian American Art Museum and its Renwick Gallery, Washington, D.C.

Artificial light, such as that of a lamp, gas, &c., taxes the eyes more than the natural light—the light of the sun. So far as we are able, it is best to avoid taxing or straining the eyes by such light. If we must read, study, sew, &c., by lamp light, it is well to have our evenings in the morning—retiring early enough to secure sufficient time before the dawn of the day. Since the eyes are taxed more to read, &c. by lamp or gas light than by daylight, it is safer to use such light after the eyes have been rested by a night’s sleep, using them under the most favorable circumstances. It is also true that the eyes are taxes far less when we simply open them and let them see, than by straining them, trying hard to see, compelling them to see. We never gain time by using them at an improper time, or in an improper manner. Blindness, inflamed and painful eyes, weak eyes,—so weak that we cannot use them for a few weeks or months,—will teach us how much we lose in this way. What we seem to gain by reading, &c., at twilight, in the cars or under ay circumstances in which we overwork them, we lose in the end.

Never rub the eyes, either when dust get into them or when grieved. If the dust, &c., has sharp corners or edges, such rubbing is sure to injure them. It is safer to draw the lids away from the eye, and let the tears wash the dust, &c., away; or, with a syringe, throw warm water into the eye for the same purpose, which is easily done, and not painful. Soft water is said to be the best “eye-water.” Wash them out with such in the morning, and wear a wet cloth, several thicknesses, over them at night, if they are red, hot, or inflamed, keeping them and the head cool.

Hanaford, J. H. “Care of the Eyes.” Oliver Optic’s Magazine: Our Boys and Girls 5, no. 127 (June 1869): 363.

[2] &c. is used throughout the text to mean etcetera.

Contexts

Oliver’s Optics Magazine: Our Boys and Girls was a weekly magazine published from January 1867 to December 1875. It was edited by William Taylor Adams, who used the pen name “Oliver Optic” for this publication. The magazine contained fiction, essays, dialogues, illustrations, and puzzles for its readers.

Eye health was an important topic in the late 19th century, and several periodicals published guides to eye care, such as this one from the Philadelphia Times and Register 26, no. 49 (December 1893): 1124.

Resources for Further Study

This tiny painting measures only three-quarters of an inch high and wide, and the one below is three-quarters of an inch high by one and five-sixteenths inches wide. From the Luce Center label for both: “Small paintings of eyes first became popular during the late eighteenth century. They reminded wearers of a loved one, whose identity remained a secret. The single eye also symbolized the watchful gaze of a jealous partner, who feared that his or her lover might stray. One of the earliest known eye miniatures was painted in 1786 by the English artist Richard Cosway for the Prince of Wales, later King George IV. The miniature showed the eye of Mrs. Fitzherbert, the prince’s mistress. The eye miniatures shown in the Luce Center would have been set in lockets, brooches, rings, or small boxes.”

Categories
1880s Poem

High and Low

High and Low [1]

By Frank Bellew [2]
Annotations by Jessica Abell
From Harper’s Young People. 1884.
A high-bred dog and a low bred dog
   Were talking together one day.
Said the low-bred dog to the high-bred dog,
   "Supposing us go and play."
Said the high-bred dog to the low-bred dog,
   "What! waste my time? Oh no!"
Said the low-bred dog to the high-bred dog,
   "Then let us a-hunting go."
Said the high-bred dog to the low-bred dog,
   "Ah! that is a different case."
Said the low-bred dog to the high-bred dog,
   "I will find, and you can chase."

So off they started side by side,
The Low on a trot, the High on stride.
Said the Low to the High: "I do not stay
When I find a thing that stands in my way.
If it be too high for me to leap,
I slyly, wily, under it I creep;
A were you not so mighty and high,
You'd soon get fat upon game as I."
"Of course," said High, "you know what best
Will serve your own good interest.
But different minds choose different courses,
And I surmount[3][4] opposing forces."
To a fence they came while talking so;
Over went High, under went Low.
Both were very well content.
So on complacently they went,
Till they came to a wall too high for Rover;
There Ajax kindly lifts him over.
There being no hole, you see, to crawl.
After a while they reached a fence-
Something altogether immense.
High could not get over that, you know;
But underneath was a hole for Low.
"I'll crawl first, and, after, you
Can lie on your back, and I'll pull you through."
So Low went first, and, as agreed,
Dragged through the hound of lofty breed.
But, oh, what a sight on the other side!
Torn were his ears and scratched his hide;
His glossy coat was smeared with mud,
Bestuck with burrs, and stained with blood;
And he cried, as he homeward limped in pain,
"I'll never be dragged through a hole again."
From Harper’s Young People. 1884.
MORAL
The man of high principles possibly may
Help the low-minded man on a virtuous way,
But he can not make compacts for pleasure of gain
With the low, and not suffer some kind of stain.
No matter how kind his intentions may be.
The hound or the human of vulgar degree
Always teaches some trick or some method his own,
Be it robbing a bank or stealing a bone.
So never make compacts with dogs that are low,
Or some day you'll be covered with-no, not snow.
Bellew, Frank. “High and Low.” Harper’s Young People, vol. 6, no. 263, Harper & Bros., 1884, p. 32.

[1] “High and Low” was featured in Harper’s Young People publication.

[2] Frank Bellow is the author and illustrator of “High and Low.”

[3] emphasis original.

[4] surmount: To overcome a difficulty or obstacle.

Resources for Further Study
Pedagogy
  • Why does the author emphasize the word “surmount” in the poem? What is significant about this word?
  • At first, this poem seems like a comparable metaphor of social classes, but the MORAL offers a different context. Does the MORAL change the perspective of the poem for the reader?

Categories
1880s Short Story

The Barn-Yard Convention

The Barn-Yard Convention

By Elizabeth M. Bruce [1]
Annotations by Jessica Abell
From The Myrtle 1884.

The fowls in the barnyard had a dispute about the amount of corn that each one ought to have at the feeding time.

The turkey said that he ought to have more than any of the others, as he was larger, and of course it would take more corn to keep him alive than it would a little fowl like a hen.

The hen replied that she had chickens to feed , and the turkey had none and of course she ought to have the larger portion.

The rooster said that he ought to have more than the hen as was the father of the family and that was a sufficient reason why he should have the largest share of everything.

The duck said that her feet were larger than the others and that was a sure sign that it was intended that she should be provided in other ways more bountifully than the others.

The dispute waxed hot, all the disputants talking at the same time and almost flying in each other’s faces, they were so eager to be heard. “Quack, quack,” said that duck: “Gobble, gobble,” said the turkey: and “cluck, cluck,” said the hen, and “peep! peep! peep,” cried the chickens who were near being run over in all the confusion.

Mooly cow was looking quietly out of the stable window while all this strife was going on, and she brought the whole foolish crowd to their senses finally by remarking:

“You may as well stop your noisy rout now, as there is nothing left for you to quarrel over. The dove has eaten up all the corn while you were trying each to get the largest share.”

Bruce, Elizabeth M. “The Barn-Yard Convention.” The Myrtle., vol. 33, no. 46, [J.M. Usher], 1884. Hathi Trust, https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/100432521.

[1] Elizabeth M. Bruce was also the editor of The Myrtle.

Contexts

Each of these animals comes with their own set of distinct characteristics. All those that were fighting over the corn are types of birds/fowl. For more information on each animal:

Resources for Further Study
Pedagogy
  • How would you split the corn?
    • Why
  • How do you feel about what the dove does?
  • How does “The Barn-Yard Convention” act as a metaphor for society?
Contemporary Connections

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