Christmas trees!

As the cataloger for AAS’s Prints in the Parlor project, I’ve been working with gift books and annuals now for fifteen months. In that time, I’ve found few images that represent scenes of Christmas. This is surprising because many of the annuals were given as Christmas gifts and have titles that you would think have to do with Christmas: The Christmas Blossom, The Christmas Box, Christmas Tribute, etc. There are plenty of wintery scenes, and one scene that takes place on Christmas morning, but none with today’s staple of the holiday — a Christmas tree. Until now. I am nearing the end of the gift books in the collection that need to be cataloged and came across the first image I have seen (likely one of the earliest printed in the United States) of a Christmas tree! More about my find in a moment, but first, some background information.

Luther Amidst His Family at Wittenberg on Christmas Eve, 1536 from Wheat Sheaf

Christmas trees were somewhat common in Pennsylvania German communities in the early 19th century, but not in the rest of the country until the 1850s and 1860s. In fact, in the same batch of books I have on my desk, there is another scene with a Christmas tree, but this is of Martin Luther and his family in 1536 from German artist C.A. Schwerdgeburth’s painting done in 1845. It was engraved in a gift book titled Wheat Sheaf from 1853 that was published in Philadelphia. Obviously, this isn’t an American scene, but it does showcase the tree. It also illustrates the popular myth that Luther was the first to light a tree with candles in order to express the “light of God” to his children.

The Christmas Tree from Godey's Lady's Book

After doing a little more research on images of Christmas trees and I discovered that one of the earliest recognized images of an “American” Christmas scene with a decorated tree appeared in Godey’s Lady’s Book in 1850. The scene actually shows a modified version of the image of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert gathered around their Christmas tree in 1848. The engraver left out the Queen’s crown, and Prince Albert’s mustache. It is believed that this image, re-printed through the 1850s, gave housewives throughout the country the push to have decorated Christmas trees in their homes during the Victorian era.

But if 19th-century publishers were anything like advertisers today, they knew not to only publish items directed to mothers, but to the most impressionable consumers — children. Like periodicals such as Godey’s Lady’s Book, gift books were also widely published. In one of those gift books aimed at children, the 1841 Youth’s Keepsake, A Christmas and New Year’s Gift, published in Boston, an image appears on p. 71 showing the quintessential Christmas scene, complete with a candle-lit and decorated Christmas tree. The text that accompanies the image tells the story.

Christmas Eve from Youth's Keepsake
A mother stands at left after calling her children down to the parlor with a bell, waiting for destruction of her decorated table. Five young children burst into the room and hurriedly take their gifts from the neatly arranged table. Little Bell has gotten a new doll and clutches it as she thanks her mother. Frank has gotten a large toy house, which he promises to “take it to pieces, and I shall be able to put it together again.” Little Bill peeks around the door to find a line of toy soldiers for himself. Even Dash, the family dog is excited to see if there are any treats for him on that table and jumps on one boy’s leg. Even the children’s father, not seen in this image, will find it hard not to get into the holiday spirit:

Papa, who has left his study … calls from the entry to beg they will be rather more quiet. When he gets fairly into the merry circle however, perhaps he will find himself soon joining in the riot himself.

What little girl wouldn’t like to see a sparkly tree on the table surrounded by dolls and toys and treats, and what little boy would turn down a set of blocks or a tree with candies hanging off of its branches? Surely this scene, almost ten years older than the image from Godey’s Lady’s Book, was shown to mothers and fathers by excited children who wanted the same pretty scene in their homes on Christmas Eve.

For further reading:
Snyder, Phillip V. The Christmas Tree Book.. New York, 1976.
Marling, Karal A. Merry Christmas! Cambridge, MA, 2000.

The Acquisitions Table: Joseph Dennie Papers

Dennie, Joseph. Papers, 1789-1790.

Joseph Dennie (1768-1812) was born in Boston. After graduating from Harvard College, Dennie studied law in Charlestown, NH. Two years later he began contributing essays to newspapers in New Hampshire and Vermont. In 1796 he became editor of Isaiah Thomas’s The Farmer’s Weekly Museum and continued writing essays. In 1799 Dennie moved to Philadelphia, where he continued his literary career.These letters were written to Dennie’s Harvard classmate Roger Vose. Most of them date from the six-month period beginning in December 1790 during which Dennie was rusticated from Harvard for insolence. When Laura G. Pedder published her edition of Dennie’s letters in 1936, she said that she did not have access to the letters to Vose; but she did include the text of typewritten transcriptions made by the genealogist Thomas Bellows Peck (1842-1915), probably in the 1880s. It will now be possible to compare those transcriptions against the original letters for accuracy and omissions. Purchase, Harry G. Stoddard Memorial Fund.

Audubon at the American Antiquarian Society

The record-breaking price for a double elephant folio edition of John James Audubon’s Birds of America in London on December 9, 2010, prompts the question: Does the Society own a copy. The short answer is no — not the double elephant folio edition — but the story is more interesting than that. Indeed, AAS came THAT close (note small capitals, not large, and certainly not bold). If AAS had been a subscriber, the sale would have been made by Audubon himself.

In December 1840, Audubon was on a tour to sell his work in the United States. The AAS Librarian at the time, Samuel Foster Haven, had already received a letter from the president of the Society’s Council, Thomas L. Winthrop, encouraging him to consider a purchase:

Mr. Audubon will call at the Society’s office and request you show him the Library. He will have with him a few copies of his celebrated Ornithology. I wish our Society could conveniently possess itself of his valuable works, having been disappointed in the ability of a considerable portion of his foreign subscribers to fulfill their engagements to pay him for his original work, he has been induced to publish it on a reduced scale, to consist of eighty-six numbers, at one dollar each.

Winthrop’s bibliographic reference was to a new, more affordable edition of Birds of America. Audubon had introduced an octavo edition (like the double elephant folio, it was also offered as fascicles) and was selling subscriptions to both. Audubon had also issued the text accompanying the illustrations in five volumes between 1831 and 1839 as Ornithological Biography: An Account of the Habits of the Birds of the United States of America, 5 vols. (Edinburgh, 1831-39), co-authored with the Scottish naturalist and ornithologist William MacGillivray.

While in Worcester, Audubon was hosted by the local bookseller, Clarendon Harris, who duly brought him to the library as part of the tour of Worcester people and places. Without talking turkey, Haven suggested that Audubon visit Elihu Burritt, the “learned blacksmith,” then residing in Worcester and studying in AAS collections, and return later. So Audubon and Harris continued on their way, visiting other prospects, and stopping for “2 glasses of good wine” with Attorney Isaac Davis. Audubon then returned to Antiquarian Hall to meet with Haven hoping to sell a subscription. But the library was already locked up! The librarian had departed for the weekend, and Audubon was scheduled to be on his way to Hartford, Connecticut, before the library would reopen.

AAS notwithstanding, Audubon made twelve sales in Worcester, all of the octavo edition. Not surprisingly, several were purchased by members of the American Antiquarian Society. While Haven left no statement on the matter, he might well have considered that one of these sets might one day reach the Society. If so, his surmise would have been correct, even if he could not have predicted which subscriber would be the donor. The complete copy now in the AAS collections has this provenance:

American Antiquarian Society copy the gift of Frances M. Lincoln, 1928. Inscribed: Frances M. Lincoln, Jan. 1866; ‘I give and bequeath to my granddaughter Frances Merrick Lincoln my copy of Audubon’s Birds of America, which is a subscription copy of that work and presented to me by my late husband; the same to be preserved by her as a token of remembrance.’ From the will of Mrs. Mary B. Merrick; M.B. Merrick.

This set had been purchased by F. T. Merrick. Stephen Salisbury bequeathed not his octavo edition, but his copy of the Ornithological Biography, and several other parts of the octavo edition are now in the collections as well.

As the guide to the Society’s collections indicates: “We have not yet obtained a set of that great book and we despair of ever again having the opportunity of doing so.” This leaves us to wonder, what if Audubon had not stayed at Worcester’s Temperance Hotel, where there was no wine in the cellar, and thereby passed up a tipple with Isaac Davis?; and would Haven have committed one hundred dollars for a subscription?

For further reading:
Gregory H. Nobles, “Ornithology and Enterprise: Making and Marketing John James Audubon’s The Birds of America” Proceedings of the American Antiquarian Society (Oct. 2003): 267-302 (available for purchase on the AAS website as offprint number 1009).

John James Audubon’s double elephant folio edition of The Birds of America (4 vols., 1827-38), a massive work of natural history that offers the reader an innovative interplay between image and text, still stands as one of the most remarkable artistic and scientific achievements in the history of the book. For Audubon, though, producing this “Great Work” proved to be as much about entrepreneurship as ornithology. The changes in the popular perception of Audubon’s birds from his time to our own is the background for looking at the connection between the cultural and commercial significance of this big book about birds, which represents both an investigation of nature and an investment in art. The various ways people have valued Audubon’s work leads to the question of whether The Birds of America is — or should be — a book at all.

The Acquisitions Table: Campaign Journal

Campaign Journal. Providence, RI.  April 1, 1861.

This rare campaign newspaper, published by the Providence Journal, supported a slate of Republican candidates for state office. One of the candidates was Sullivan Ballou, a successful lawyer and up-and-coming politician in Rhode Island, and a strong supporter of Abraham Lincoln. During the Civil War he dropped all political aspirations and volunteered for service with the 2nd Rhode Island Infantry, only to be mortally wounded at the First Battle of Bull Run. Ken Burns immortalized him in his documentary, The Civil War, by highlighting the eloquent letter Ballou wrote to his wife from the battlefield two weeks before he died. Gift of Vincent Golden.

The Acquisitions Table: An die freyen Erwähler von Berks County

An die freyen Erwa?hler von Berks County. Reading, PA, [ca. 1823]

This German-language broadside from Berks County, PA, celebrates the life and achievements of Andrew Gregg (1755-1835). Gregg had served in the Delaware militia during the Revolutionary War and was elected a Congressman and Senator for Pennsylvania from 1807 to 1813. By 1823, Gregg had been away from Washington politics for a decade, working as a banker and serving as Secretary of State for Pennsylvania. He ran unsuccessfully for governor in 1823 and it is likely that this broadsheet, with its descriptions of past military gallantry and federal service, was intended to assist him during the campaign. Purchased from Jean’s Book Service. Adopt-a-Book Fund.

Recipe Squashed!

I hope you all enjoyed your Thanksgiving feasts!  Hopefully you didn’t overload too much on pumpkins, squash and sweet potatoes.  If you can still stomach thinking about food, read on about the results of my historical pie adventure.  I chose to follow the pumpkin pie recipe (from The White House Cookbook, 1877), but to mix it up a bit by swapping the pumpkin with squash, as was recommended at the end of the recipe.  The results?  This pie recipe will be filed away in my “interesting” category.  Better than disastrous, but not something I’d make for my next dinner party!

The toughest challenge I’ve found in translating these historic recipes to modern day is managing my expectations.  Making the squash pie definitely brought this to light.  I expected the squash pie to come together like a modern pumpkin pie, which I’ve made too many times to count.  But of course it didn’t, and why would it?  Not only are the ingredients and baking process different, but tastes and expectations are different now too. 

The best example of blown expectations with my squash pie was consistency.  I’m so accustomed to that wonderful pudding-like consistency of pumpkin pie filling, due in large part to the thickness of the pumpkin in a can.  While the freshness of the squash was a welcome change to the recipe, the texture was not.  I strained as much water as I could from the squash, but it still did not reach the cream-like texture of the pumpkin in a can.  And the recipe called for no other substantial dry ingredients aside from sugar!  Add in the fact the recipe called for more milk than any other ingredient, and I was left with a completely liquid filling.  I was sure it would never set, and gave up on the pie before it even went in the oven.

But lo and behold, it did set (1 ½ hours later!) and while the end product was still not the same as the pumpkin pie on our Thanksgiving dessert spread, it was entirely edible, flavorful, and a welcome change.  And that’s the important thing to remember when following old recipes – change, and welcoming it!  Understanding that historic dishes will not always resemble modern dishes is what makes the process so much fun.  I just need to be sure to let people know these dishes are from old recipes so they don’t think I can’t make a decent pumpkin pie, according to their expectations, of course! 

So all in all, the pie had a great freshness about it, the consistency was close enough to my expectations, but it was overwhelmingly sweet.  The amount of sugar could probably be cut in half because of the natural sweetness of the squash.  But then again, folks in the 19th century probably expected their squash pie to be that sweet!

A Small Masterpiece and Its Illustrator are Re-Discovered!

This haunting lithograph depicting Hans Christian Andersen’s Little Match-Girl is taken from the rare collection of Hans Andersen’s stories, Good Wishes for the Children, interpreted by A.A.B. and S.G.P., published by the famed Riverside Press in 1873. AAS acquired its copy from the illustrious bookman Benjamin Tighe in 1967, and up until now, the identity of the translator A.A.B. and the illustrator S.G.P. remained a mystery.

In a wonderful turn of serendipity, I recently received a phone call from an AAS member who was about to purchase a copy of this edition. As it turns out this copy had an inscription to “Mr. Mifflin” (George H. Mifflin of the Riverside Press) signed by Avis A. Bigelow and S.G. Putnam. My AAS friend wanted to know if I knew anything about either of them. This question took me to our copy of Who Was Who in American Art. I discovered that S.G. Putnam could have been either Stephen Greeley Putnam, a wood engraver born in 1852 who studied with American artists Henry Walker Herrick and Elias J. Whitney, or Sarah Gould Putnam, a portrait painter who was active in the late nineteenth/early twentieth centuries. Both artists exhibited in the late nineteenth century.

Fortunately for me, I searched Worldcat.org, and discovered that Massachusetts Historical Society has the diaries and papers of Boston portrait painter Sarah Gooll Putnam (1851-1912). Reading the thorough collection description, I found that MHS also has extensive holdings of Miss Putnam’s pencil sketches, a fact I found striking given the soft pencil quality of the lithographs in Good Wishes for the Children. It turns out that Sarah Gooll Putnam was a wealthy Boston socialite who spent most of her life in Boston’s Back Bay when she was not traveling in Europe and the American West. She exhibited successfully in Boston, Chicago, and New York, with the likes of John LaFarge. All of this information was promising, but not conclusive. I eagerly scanned the contents guide, and I discovered what I was hunting for: Miss Putnam’s photograph of Hans Christian Andersen with the caption, “Photograph sent to me through Mr. Horace Scudder, April 27th, 1874”–within a year of my book’s publication! Horace Scudder was the legendary children’s book author and long-time editor for the Riverside Press.

At this point, I delved into AAS’s truly first rate collection of secondary literature: I discovered that AAS has a copy of The Andersen-Scudder Letters, published in 1941. Sure enough, I found the following passage in a letter from Horace Scudder to Hans Christian Andersen, dated January 15, 1874:

I sent you … a little book which has a history. It is entitled Hans Andersen’s Good Wishes for Children, interpreted by A.A.B. and S.G.P. These two young ladies, Misses Bigelow and Putnam, of Boston, wished to contribute something in aid of the Children’s Hospital, a very worthy and humane institution in Boston. Accordingly, Miss Bigelow translated several of your stories anew from the German version and Miss Putnam drew on stone the accompanying illustrations. We printed the book for them and I begged them to let me send you a copy with their autographs. … it would give me very great pleasure if I might be the means of securing from them one of your valued letters with photographs. … they are not professional author and artist, but ladies in refined society.

Andersen responded by sending both young ladies his photograph.

In short, Hans Andersen’s Good Wishes for the Children deserves a second look, not just because of its rarity, but because of the clearly original illustrations by an artist whose work has been partially obscured by anonymity and her nineteenth-century status as a “lady” (read permanently amateur) artist. The time has come to enjoy her contribution to Hans Andersen’s Good Wishes for Children as the masterpiece that it is.

Now, if I only had the same success in uncovering the life and career of Avis A. Bigelow…

The Acquisitions Table: Egyptian Mummy

Egyptian mummy. To be exhibited at the house of [     ]. Ithaca, NY: Mack and Andrus, [between 1825 and 1828]

Only known copy, previously unrecorded, of this 8-page promotional pamphlet. Early in 1826, two Egyptian mummies cleared customs in New York on their way to Peale’s Museum and Gallery of Fine Arts on Broadway. One mummy proved sufficient, however, and the other was sold the next year to three men from upstate New York. Placed on exhibition at Ithaca, it was then trundled around New York, Vermont, and western Massachusetts for the next year and a half, drawing crowds wherever it stopped. Outside of Albany, however, the mummy was stolen by a group of over-zealous medical students, never to be seen again in whole or in part. This pamphlet, with full-page woodcut on the first page, was distributed by the promoters at each stop to drum up business—a blank space was left for the exhibition venue to be added in manuscript—and handed to paying customers. AAS has another Ithaca-printed pamphlet, with identical woodcut but partly variant text, which presumably predates this one. Purchased from Steve Finer. Henry F. DePuy Fund.

The Acquisitions Table: Lessons for Children

Barbauld, Anna Letitia. Lessons for Children, from Two to Three Years Old. Boston: S. Hall, 1800.

This is an unrecorded title, drawn from English writer Anna Letitia Barbauld’s series of Lessons for Children written for youngsters between the ages of two and six. They are written as a series of dialogs between a child (frequently a little boy) and a parent (usually a well-informed mama). Publisher Samuel Hall (1740-1807) notes on the last page that the title probably should have been changed to Lessons for Children from Three to Four Years Old, because in the opinion of “many judicious persons,” children do not learn to read much before age three or four. Purchased from James Visbeck. Ruth E. Adomeit and Harry G. Stoddard Memorial Funds.

It’s a lovely brew, farinaceous and balsamic without being overtly alcalous.

Making beer, hard cider, and other spirits at home has long been part of American culture. Most students of American history know this and know that both genders consumed alcohol and that children did as well. I was surprised though, to learn how much alcohol was consumed. According to Sarah Hand Meacham in her book Every Home a Distillery: Alcohol, Gender and Technology in the Colonial Chesapeake (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 2009), “[b]y 1770, the average white adult male had the equivalent of seven shots of rum per day, and an average white woman drank almost two pints of hard cider per day.” Apparently, consuming mass quantities did not start with the Coneheads.

Once beer was available commercially, it also began to be advertised. This early beer ad has an image of a girl crying over spilled beer comes from an advertising trade card.
Given the importance of alcohol in the lives of early Americans, it makes sense the colonists would produce as much as possible at home. Of course, in colonial America, before manufacturing took hold, many things had to be made at home or not made at all. However, even after beer was available commercially, many families made it at home and for many of the same reasons people continue to concoct home brew: to save money and to specify the ingredients.

For anyone interested in early American brewing, from technique to recipes, from the economics to societal impacts, the American Antiquarian Society has some great resources. The collections include reference works like the aforementioned Meacham title, but also, naturally, the Society has 18th and 19th century works aimed at the home brewer. One great example is Every Man His Own Brewer, A Small Treatise, Explaining the Art and Mystery of Brewing Porter, Ale and Table-Beer, by Samuel Child (Philadelphia, 1796) (available digitally through Readex’s Early American Imprints, Series I: Evans, 1639-1800). This treatise was originally published in London but Philadelphia publisher Thomas Condie (1775?–1814) reprinted and edited it for the American audience. Evidently the recipe (called receipts in the pamphlet) for porter was a closely held secret in the late 18th century but Child, who opined “for celebrity, universal use and estimation Porter as not been equaled by any other liquor,” wanted to reveal the secret for the benefit of the lower classes.


Notice how the calculations take into account the economic value of a woman's time even though the publication is called Every Man His Own Brewer, p.8-9.

Child’s recipes include prices (which Condie has edited to reflect American currency) and comparisons to equivalent portions purchased commercially. He calculates the savings for us so we can easily justify the effort expended. Child’s recipes include some exotic ingredients like cocculus indicus, coriander, and capsicum, the former two of which were banned by British Acts of Parliament for their “poisonous and stupefactive” qualities. Child, ever the iconoclast, tells us he uses them anyway (Condie tells us not to). Lastly, the treatise includes explanations of the techniques and equipment necessary to brew porter and the other recipes. With a little effort (Child’s play?) and a little research, one can see oneself making these 18th century brews.

Two other works from the AAS collection expound the health and economic benefits of brewing at home. The Complete Family Brewer; or The Best Method of Brewing or Making any Quantity of Good Strong Ale and Small Beer, In the Greatest Perfection, for the Use of Private Families; from a Peck of Malt to 60 Bushels (Philadelphia, Graves, 1805) appears nine years after the Condie title, and is much easier for the modern reader to comprehend (it is also available digitally through Readex’s Early American Imprints, Series II: Shaw-Shoemaker, 1800-1819).

Purl recipe from The Complete Family Brewer, p.17.
The Complete Family Brewer covers some of the same ground as Child and Condie, (e.g., it gives similar economic justifications) but gives more recipes, including ones for China Ale, Elderberry Ale (aka ebulum) and purl (aka dog nose) which is beer infused with wormwood (yes, the main ingredient in absinthe). The anonymous author claims the recipes and techniques are so easy “that a Child of ten years of Age may learn to do it in five Minutes.” This work is especially helpful with technique and troubleshooting beer problems like sourness, staleness, and “beer tasting of the cask.” In fact, part of the very long subtitle of this pamphlet is “Cleansing and Sweetening Foul, Dirty, Musty, or Stinking Casks, Brewing-Vessels, &c…” which makes skunky beer seem not all that bad by comparison.

The third work is a book written by an M.D, Marcus Lafayette Byrn (1826–1903) lending credence, no doubt, to the salutary effects of consuming one’s own beer. The Complete Practical Brewer; or, Plain, accurate, and thorough instructions in the art of brewing ale, beer, and porter : including the process of making Bavarian beer; also, all the small beers … Adapted to the use of public brewers, and private families, or those who may wish to brew on a small scale : With numerous illustrations, by M.L. Byrn, M.D. (Philadelphia: Henry Carey Baird, 1852). It runs to nearly 200 pages and is therefore much more comprehensive than the pamphlets. This work, which had numerous editions, includes chapters for commercial operations (e.g., there are instructions with diagrams for building kilns to malt your own grain) but also includes chapters for “private families.” In addition to a great deal of advice on technique, Dr. Byrn (who also published a book on distilling spirits — I am not sure the AMA would approve) provides numerous and sundry recipes for potables such as Burton Ale, Welsh Ale, Reading Ale, Currant Wine, Mead, Ciders, Root Beer, Ginger Pop, and Scurvy-Grass Ale (“considered a rectifier of the blood” and “highly recommended by some medicinal men”).

These works and the many other brewing related materials at the AAS document the history of private beer making in America. They can edify. They can be used in scholarly works. Yes. But they can also be a source of justification for imbibing. If your rationale for purchasing your favorite micro-brew is wearing a bit thin, consider the words of Samuel Child:

The natural constitution of man, requires a portion of liquid aliment to assist digestion and nutrition; and the hard-working class of the Community, receive from it support, spirits and strength; it is no wonder then, that the ingenuity of man has been exerted to produce liquors at once pleasant to the palate, reviving to the spirits and productive of support.

Who can argue with that?

Sweet Potatoes, Pumpkins, and Squash … Oh My!

Believe it or not, Thanksgiving is less than a week away.  So for all of you hosts and hostesses out there, I thought I’d share a menu to make your worries seem a little less overwhelming.  Perhaps you, like me, are already stressing about the big day, planning and shopping and worrying about how to keep people out of the kitchen as you prepare dish upon dish. If so, take solace in the fact that you are not preparing a Thanksgiving dinner at the White House.  Below is a menu taken from The White House Cook Book: Cooking, Toilet and Household Recipes, Menus, Dinner-Giving, Table Etiquette, Care of the Sick, Health Suggestions, Facts Worth Knowing, Etc., Etc.  This cyclopedia, compiled by Mrs. F.L. Gillette and Hugo Ziemann, Steward of the White House, was published in 1887 (although the excerpts in this post are taken from a 2003 reprint of the original).  As you can see, Thanksgiving at the White House was (and I’m sure still is) quite the feast.

Since I am not brave enough to take on the challenge of recreating a complete White House Thanksgiving this year, I will only tackle one dish.  If anyone out there is brave enough, or would like to see the recipe for a dish featured on this menu, let me know and I’ll post the recipe. 

This time around, I’ll be doing dessert.  I will have a traditional, modern pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving (you know, one can of pumpkin, some eggs, Pillsbury crust…) but will feature alongside this pie a pie from the White House Cook Book.  Pumpkin pie is featured on the Thanksgiving menu, but in looking up the recipe, I saw there are also some very tempting recipes for squash pie and sweet potato pie as well.  Since they are all basically in the same family it remains to be seen which one I’ll make, but either one will pair well with the modern pumpkin pie and serve as a nice comparison.

To the left are recipes for both the pumpkin and squash pies.  The sweet potato pie recipe is the same as the squash pie, and only swaps title ingredients.  Although the recipes are not very complicated and do not deviate greatly from a modern recipe, it will be interesting to see what a difference fresh pumpkin/squash/sweet potato makes compared to the canned variety.  Also, having control over the seasonings may spice things up as well.  I’ll be sure to report back on the results, but in the meantime, happy Thanksgiving preparations to you all!

The Acquisitions Table: Ashtabula Telegraph

Ashtabula Telegraph. Record Book, 1849-1853.

The Ashtabula (OH) Telegraph was founded in 1846. The publisher was N. W. Thayer and the editor was W. E. Scarsdale. This ledger of nearly 300 pages covers the years 1849-1853 and details Thayer’s accounts with a large number of customers. Activities include subscriptions to and advertising in the Telegraph, job printing of cards and handbills, and printing materials imported by water from Buffalo. Purchased from Jean’s Book Service. Harry G. Stoddard Memorial Fund.

Join Us Tomorrow Night for “Random Notes from a Book History Bureaucrat”

This Tuesday, November 16, at 7:30 p.m., John B. Hench will be presenting the twenty-seventh Annual James Russell Wiggins Lecture in the Program in the History of the Book in American Culture at the American Antiquarian Society.

John B. Hench is the retired vice president for collections and programs at AAS. His talk, “Random Notes from a Book History Bureaucrat,” will combine elements of memoir, reflections on the development and influence of the Society’s Program in the History of the Book in American Culture, and notes on some of the themes in his recent scholarship on publishing in the World War II era.

John B. Hench worked at AAS for 33 years, beginning as editor of publications in 1973. He is the author of Books as Weapons: Propaganda, Publishing, and the Battle for Global Markets in the Era of World War II (2010). Additionally, he co-edited The Press and the American Revolution (1981) and Printing and Society in Early America (1983).

The Wiggins Lecture is named for James Russell Wiggins (1903-2000), chairman of the Society from 1970 to 1977. He was editor of the Washington Post and, until his death at the age of 96, editor of the Ellsworth (Maine) American. Wiggins also served as U.S. ambassador to the United Nations in 1968.

More information and directions are available on the AAS website by clicking here.

Lee & Shepard and the Great Fire

One of the most interesting aspects of the manuscript collection here at AAS is its collections focused on the book trade in America.  And one of the most interesting collections concerning the book trades is the business records of the Boston publishing firm, Lee & Shepard (for a PDF of the collection finding aid, click here). The 12 box collection features correspondence, book orders, and receipts from the founding of the business in 1860 until its incorporation with the Boston publishing house Lothrop & Company in 1906.  The collection has proved popular for researchers, especially those interested in finding letters from famous authors to the publishing firm.

But letters from authors are not the only exciting finds in the Lee & Shepard Collection.  While searching through the card file that indexes correspondences coming into the company, fellow AAS staff member Sally Talbot kept coming across letters that mentioned a fire.  A few Google searches later, and she discovered Lee & Shepard was a victim of the Great Boston Fire of 1872!  This “great” fire is said to be the worst in the city’s history, destroying much of downtown, hitting the financial district especially hard, where Lee & Shepard was located.  And if that discovery isn’t enough, how about this fun connection – the anniversary of the fire was just this past Tuesday, November 9th.  You can read a Boston Globe article about the fire here.

These letters show us how the fire impacted the company, and are an insightful look into how other companies were impacted as well.  Some folks were understanding – “Sorry you were burnt out,” sympathized Horatio Alger, Jr.  Others not so understanding, such as Mr. Armstrong, who reminded Lee & Shepard that they had already been given an extension, and will not be given another one – fire or no fire!

Many questions still remain.  How exactly did the fire physically and financially affect the company?  What buildings were burnt down?  Obviously they did not lose their records or paperwork, since we have this collection of papers.  However, perhaps the collection should be even larger, and some was indeed lost.  So what exactly did they lose, and how did they manage to recover?  And did Andrew Armstrong ever get his money?    More research is definitely in order!

The Acquisitions Table: Amateur Newspapers

Collection of amateur newspapers.

One of our new members, Stan Oliner, is very active in the field of amateur journalism through collecting, writing articles, and serving in national organizations. A while ago, he mailed AAS a large gift of amateur newspapers that we are eagerly going through, selecting many issues for our collection.  Illustrated here is a sampling of what has been processed to date, including issues from Massachusetts, Illinois, Louisiana, Minnesota, Nebraska, and California. These were usually printed in very limited numbers, distributed locally, and exchanged with other amateur journalists. They offer an interesting sample of writings by teenagers of the late 19th century. Gift of Stan Oliner.