Job Well Done

Good students have been getting rewards of one kind or another for a long time, and the companies producing and selling them today can trace their heritage back hundreds of years. One of the simplest forms of telling students they’d done a good job was the “reward of merit,” an ephemeral certificate dating back in America to the eighteenth century.

Here are a few examples of rewards of merit from the RIHS collections.

Rewards of merit with a monetary value, like the one below, were popularized by Joseph Lancaster, an educational innovator of the early nineteenth century. While they obviously weren’t legal tender outside the classroom, they would have been saved and used to purchase other prizes (à la Chuck E. Cheese).*

Some offered visual appeal:

Some were a little more bland**:

The best source for learning more about rewards of merit is a publication by the Ephemera Society of America: Rewards of Merit: Tokens of a Child’s Progress and a Teacher’s Esteem as an Enduring Aspect of American Religious and Secular Education. (Find a copy to borrow or buy.)

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Four Reward of Merit Certificates: RIHS, G1157 Broadsides, 1822

* Patricia Fenn and Alfred Malpa, Rewards of Merit: Tokens of a Child’s Progress and a Teacher’s Esteem as an Enduring Aspect of an American Religious and Secular Education, Charlottesville, VA: Ephemera Society of America. p. 114.

** This particular type of reward of merit is actually harder to find examples of than the more decorative varieties: “On very few occasions did printers use the word ‘Merit’ alone.” Fenn, Rewards of Merit, p. 171.

The Elephant

Unfortunately, this post just missed Elephant Appreciation Day, but better late than never.

“The Elephant”* is a broadside advertising the display in Providence of “the most respectable Animal in the World,” a friendly (but paper-of-consequence-stealing) elephant on its way from Philadelphia to celebrate the Harvard Commencement. Displays like this one were certainly nothing new in an Age of Wonder like the late eighteenth-century: Providence residents had been entertained by an automaton the previous November. And many aspects of the November performance are in place here: once again children get half-price on the $.25 admission, and every effort has been made not to offend the “genteel Company”.

A place was apparently “fitted up” for the elephant in a store behind the Coffee House, which was located where the RISD Auditorium now stands. This also happened to be the location of the publishers of the broadside, John Carter and William Wilkinson, and the broadside offers an interesting example of the goings-on of a print shop of the time. A variant of the broadside depicted here also exists**, but in place of the woodcut illustration of the elephant is a line of type decorations, and the text describing the duration of the elephant’s stay (“till the 8th of July only”) reads simply, “where he will remain a few Days only….”

Thanks to a 1951 article by George G. Goodwin, we also know a lot more about the elephant itself: Her name (Old Bet)***, the fact that she was a two-year-old elephant brought from India and that she was the first elephant ever brought to America. We have Nathaniel Hawthorne’s father to thank, in part, for the account of Bet’s journey to America, as he was a passenger on the ship that made the months-long voyage, and he recorded the experience in a journal.

The end of Bet’s story in America is uncertain, but there is the possibility she was shot by a boy (possibly in Rhode Island) and killed. Whatever the case, Bet’s story is parallel in many ways to a much earlier travelling celebrity pachyderm:

 

Like Bet, the rhinoceros that was the basis for Durer’s famous illustration made a lengthy water voyage, in this case travelling from India to Spain in 1515. The rhinoceros became an international sensation, and for those who couldn’t travel to see it in person, Durer’s impressive (if not entirely accurate) woodcut illustration conveyed a sense of its strength and power. (Perhaps our elephant broadside filled a similar purpose in addition to its advertising role.) While on its way to the Pope, the ship carrying the Rhinoceros wrecked, and the rhinoceros was killed. (Listen to the full story in one of the BBC’s “A History of the World in 100 Objects” podcasts: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00tn9vp .)

Shipwrecks, gunshots and a host of other maladies have been the unfortunate side-effect of human interaction with astonishing  and impressive members of the animal world. Among many such cases is the story of the elephant whose difficulties were “heightened by the great quantity of ale the spectators continually gave it”:****

UPDATE: We should have mentioned this great documentary film project to tell “the story of what happens when elephants and Rhode Islanders meet”.

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* Broadsides, 1797. Alden #1532.

 

** Alden #1531.

*** Although the broadside refers to the elephant as male.

**** “An Antiquary of the Last Century,” Littell’s Living Age, 6th ser., vol. 2 (14 April 1894): 94-106.

Beach Rules

The first page of The Newport Tide Almanac for the Year 1864 offers the following:

RULES FOR BATHING AT NEWPORT BEACH.

From the 25th day of June to the 20th day of September, no one can bathe unless clad, from 8 o’clock, A.M., until 1, P.M., nor from 3, P.M., until 8, P.M.

At any time before 8, A.M., and between1 and 3, P.M., all persons may Bathe, with, or without dresses.

A White flag is hoisted at 8 o’clock, A.M., to announce the hours of female bathing; at one o’clock, P.M., a red flag is hoisted as the signal for indiscriminate bathing, which flag is kept up until 3 o’clock, P.M., when it is lowered and the white flag hoisted and kept up until 8 o’clock, P.M.

Talk of the Town, 18th Century-Style

Thanks to the generous support from the following organizations:

Rhode Island Society of the Sons of the Revolution

Rhode Island Society of Colonial Wars

Rhode Island Society of the Sons of the American Revolution

General Society of Colonial Wars

a set of the earliest 101 broadsides in the RIHS collections dating from 1693 to 1777, which were previously not fully catalogued, are now fully accessible to researchers through our online catalog.

Broadsides are generally printed on one side of a sheet of paper and were either posted in public places or offered for sale.  They were used in early America by the government, businesses, and individuals as a way to disseminate information to the public.  They covered every topic conceivable from issues of general concern such as election results, proposed new legislation, and calls to arms to lighter subjects such as social events and theatrical performances.  The most famous example of a broadside is the printed version of the Declaration of Independence.  It was posted in a prominent location in the community to be read by all. The Society holds two Rhode-Island imprints of the Declaration and they were catalogued as part of this project.

The RIHS broadside collection is a truly unique resource.  Just like posters are used today, the majority of broadsides were created as ephemeral items to be posted outside for all to see for a specific purpose and then discarded.  As a result, very few examples of each broadside have survived to the present day.  Of the broadsides cataloged thus far, 46 of them are the only known copies in the world, 8 are one of only 2 copies known to exist, and 17 of these were unknown to scholars in 1949 when John Eliot Alden published his master bibliography: Rhode Island Imprints, 1727-1800. (New York, R.R. Bowker Company).

The broadside depicted here reveals the building tension between the American Colonies and the English Parliament that led to the American Revolution.  The broadside reports on the results of a Town Meeting of the citizens of Newport on January 12, 1774.  At that meeting, the citizens resolved to oppose the duty on tea by the English Parliament and the attempts by the East-India Company to forcibly land the tea at American ports in order to collect the tax.  They characterized it as “a violent attack upon the liberties of America.” The note at the bottom provides further proof of the widespread discontent among the colonists with England.  That town meeting apparently drew one of the biggest crowds despite the extreme cold and all of the resolutions passed without a single dissenting vote.  Only two copies of this broadside are currently known to exist—one at the RIHS and the other at the New York Public Library.

– Karen Eberhart, Special Collections Curator

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Image Citation:

Newport (R.I.)  Colony of Rhode-Island, &c. At a town-meeting held at Newport, the 12th day of January, 1774. Henry Ward, Esq; moderator. [Newport, R.I.]: Printed by Solomon Southwick, [1774].  Alden #543.  Call No.: G1157 Broadsides 1774 No.3

The King is Dead! (Oh, wait…) Long Live the King! (Sanford Ross, pt. 2)

Our last post described Sanford Ross and some of the details of his daily life that are vividly brought out in the diary entries he maintained for fifteen years in his copies of the New England Almanack. One particular detail of the record for January of 1811 stands out:

January 4th: “The Brittish King is Dead our News paper Says”

The “British King” in question was none other than George III, and his death would have been a diary-worthy event indeed to someone who had been in his mid-twenties during the American Revolution.

It would have been even more noteworthy if it had been true: Although this entry is for 1811, George III wouldn’t actually die until 1820. The king certainly wasn’t in the best of health in 1811, but he was still alive.

How did Sanford get it so wrong? Well, he certainly wasn’t alone in his belief, and this entry makes clear that he was only following the lead of his local newspaper. He might have read something like this, which appeared in the Providence Gazette of 5 January:

The account describes a Mr. John Dalrymple bearing the news into Salem and then below, although partially obscured by the poor image, a “Mr. [Ti]tcomb, from Passamaquoddy” who brought the news from Liverpool. The Newport Mercury‘s account varies in a few details:

Passamaquoddy is nowhere to be found and neither is Mr. Dalrymple. A glance at the New England Palladium for January 4th offers an explanation:

For some reason the Providence Gazette has added (invented?) a Mr. Dalrymple and moved Mr. Titcomb from Portland to Passamaquoddy.

An already muddled account of the events is then set against the timeline of Ross’s response to them: the entries preceding and following this one are for the 8th of January, so that is presumably when he added it to his journal. But he added it as “omitted above” for the 4th, even though that is the date of neither the event (which had supposedly occurred a month prior) or the first appearance in the newspaper.

Eventually the misinformation was corrected, as here in the 12 January Providence Gazette, where the correction gets less space than “canine madness”:

The layers of confusion in this account of a non-event make it a perfect example of how our understanding a historical period or moment isn’t just about knowing what happened; it’s also about knowing what those contemporary witnesses believed was happening.

Happy Thanks Givin

The image below is taken from a copy of the 1812 New England Almanack. This almanac and a few others will be the topic of upcoming posts, but for now the entry for 26 November is a reminder of Thanksgivings past. The owner has interleaved blank paper to provide a convenient space for recording events and thoughts opposite the original almanac pages:

Autumn

Now that autumn is in full swing, it’s time to do something with all the apples you’ve picked. To aid in the process, we offer this broadside advertisement from 1863 for a cast iron cider mill:

It looks like the perfect historical apparatus for some of the historical fruit over at the Beineke Library.

This particular grinder has the advantage of speed (60-70 bushels / hour), although from the description, it sounds like the assembly process (“wooding the grinder”) makes Ikea furniture instructions look simple:

Once you have your historic fruit and machinery, you’ll still need a manual: The Cider Maker’s Handbook is available online and also in the real world. In addition to a lot of practical guidance on making the best fermented cider, the book also describes cider presses like this one, a near sibling of a printing press:

Odd Fellows Indeed

Secret societies have an enduring appeal and they’ve prompted speculation about their motivations and influence for a long time. Why are they secretive? What powerful people are members, and how does their membership affect their decisions? Popular fiction and movies frequently base their plots on groups like the Freemasons or Illuminati or other shadowy organizations.

But secret societies aren’t entirely serious all the time. The item depicted above* is a compilation of three separate pieces of printed ephemera dealing with TRIAEOAOF: The Rhode Island Association of Economical and Odd Fellows (also known to detractors as The Rascally and Ignorant Abominable Officious Evil Arrogant Odd Fellows).

The top item is a brief (but typographically fascinating) announcement of a Saturday evening meeting in 1826. It employs backward type, upside-down type, and type of varying sizes to express either chaotic whimsy or a parody of secretive encrypted messages:

It is attached to the second item, a “circular” providing more details about the event, which must have been an interesting affair if it followed the description here:

The final item is a ticket to the meeting, filled out for Pardon Miller. The 1826 Providence city directory lists Miller as a watchmaker located at 47 Cheapside**. The directory also lists a John Wilder, who is described as an inn-keeper at 18 Market Square, which is presumably where the event was held.

According to a memoir of the period, TRIAEOAOF was founded as a debating society in 1825 and took upon itself the mission of properly celebrating historical anniversaries such as Washington’s birthday.*** Apparently the group’s members were drawn from Providence’s most important and powerful citizens, and the group was able to exert real influence in state politics.

Although similarly named, TRIAEOAOF apparently bore no relation to the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, which also later operated in Providence. The Odd Fellows Directory**** of 1845 offers a brief history of the organization, which wasn’t founded in Providence until 1829, three years later than the item discussed here. Outlining the founding of the Rhode Island IOOF—a much more serious and religiously-focused organization than TRIAEOAOF, to gauge by the Directory—the author describes “a strong prejudice which was felt toward all secret societies”, and the IOOF was forced to close between 1832 (only three years after their founding) and 1843.

RIHS collections include much more material related to organizations like these, including the papers of the Rhode Island branch of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows.

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* Broadsides-G1157, 1826

** He is also listed in James Gibbs’ “Horologic Rhode Island Visited.”  Bulletin of the National Association of Watch and Clock Collectors 14 (1970): 807. His brief biography includes mention of his being a first lieutenant in the Militia.

***Almon Danforth Hodges, Almon Danforth Hodges and his neighbors: An autobiographical sketch of a typical old New Englander. [T.R. Marvin & Son, Printers], 1909. Pages 153-6 detail the founding of TRIAEOAOF and its activities.

**** B. F. Moore, The Odd Fellows Directory. Providence: B. F. Moore, 1845. HS 969 .R4 O3 1845.

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

Primary source institutions like libraries, museums, and historical societies are often filled with repurposed objects, items originally intended to fulfill one task that prove perfect for something else entirely: an almanac used as a diary, a ledger book used as a canvas for a Native American artist’s depiction of a battle scene and any number of cases in which the best tool for the job was whatever happened to be at hand. It’s a recycling impulse  that’s  particularly resonant in times of economic difficulty.

Pictured here are the front and back of a blotter from the papers of Edward Carrington* (more about what a blotter is in a moment), and it offers a perfect example of just this type of practical recycling.

Front:

Back:

Paper purchased in the nineteenth century (as today) was sold in reams, and ream wrappers were to a ream of paper as dust jackets are to a book: They protected the paper itself and also offered some advertising for the papermaker.** This wrapper indicates the papermaker—A. C. & W. Curtis of Newton, Massachusetts***—, the fact that the paper is wove paper rather than laid paper, and the paper’s size, in this case pot (named for the watermark image of a pot commonly used on paper of this size).

Anyone not familiar with nineteenth-century accounting and record-keeping practices might still be wondering what a blotter actually is. Physically it was a blank book composed (in this case and others from among the dozens in the Carrington Collection) of 96 pages (made from 24 full sheets of paper). The blotter operated as a kind of working book in which various transactions might be noted during the day before eventually being stored in a more permanent form, such as a ledger.

Here’s a more contemporary explanation of blotters, or “day-books” from Salder’s Business Book-keeping & Practice (1897):

As the images of the Carrington blotter above indicate, even the wrapper was used for pen trials, quick sums, and even some stray doodling. Waste not, want not.

(For more information about ream wrappers, see the entry in the Encyclopedia of Ephemera.)

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*MSS 333, sg1, ser2, subser7, box 5, folder 3

** The American Antiquarian Society has an extensive collection of ream wrappers.

*** According to Lyman Horace Weeks (A History of Paper-Manufacturing in the United States, 1690 – 1916, New York, 1916. Pages 197-8) Simon Elliott and Solomon Curtis opened  the earliest paper mills in the Newton area. Allen C. and William Curtis took over the Curtis and Elliot mills in 1834. According to this account of an 1837 exhibition, they were the first New England papermakers to produce paper colored in the vat. A claim worth further investigation.