History has been my focus for the last month and a half, particularly since I have been a docent in training on Wednesdays at the Elijah Iles House (http://www.ileshouse.org/). I have really loved being able to immerse myself into the history of the house, and to help support it.
Late in September there was the History Meets the Arts for downtown Springfield. The opening, arranged by Sangamon Historical Society (http://sangamonhistory.org/) and the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum (http://www.alplm.org/), offered a viewing of Alison Davis Wood's documentary, "Lincoln: Prelude to the Presidency." This was a fascinating look at Lincoln as a circuit rider. It showed how his years as a circuit lawyer provided him both the training and the network of supporters to led to the presidency. For the first time ever I was able to attend U of I - Spfld's "Lunch and Learn" series; the topic for the afternoon was, "Chasing the American Dream to the Heartland." The program covered the Lithuanian and Latino immigrations to Illinois, and Springfield in particular, and was a powerful one since both speakers were first generation immigrants. Here is the url to Lithuanians in Springfield, IL. (http://lithspringfield.com/), which was mentioned in the program. There was also the Clayville Fall Festival, which was blessed with gorgeous weather. It was a joy to perform - as I had a shaded chair by the main track, and visitors often stopped to hear a tale. My only wish is that I had had more time to go really look at the additions to the Broadwell Inn. After I admired the new balcony and porch I managed to get a peek at the new ladies' parlor in the Inn. (http://clayville.org/home).
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I knew it had been a long time since I wrote, but I hadn't realized how long; nor can I blame it all on the scorching summer (though it does explain the last few weeks).
Nor has it been due to a lack of things to do - there have been many an interesting activity. So interesting that I still want to do an overview: April offered two fascinating events. The Sangamon County Historical Society (http://sangamonhistory.org/) offered a bus trip to the C. H. Moore Homestead (http://www.chmoorehomestead.org/) in Clinton, Illinois. The C. H. Moore house is a beautifully restored Victorian home, with exquisite furnishings, and material examples of the life of the time. The curator, Larry Buss, has a wealth of knowledge on the house and grounds, and along with the house's collection there is also the DeWitt County History Society's museum in the basement, three farm museums, a blacksmith shop, and a telephone exhibit. This fine outing was followed by the Springfield Art Association's "Titantic Tea." (http://www.springfieldart.org/) They had the Tea Ladies (http://www.thetealadiesinc.com/)back to host a tea party, which offered foods that would have been on the Titanic. The Tea Ladies then offered a brief history of the people on board, and asked that all those attendees of the tea party to read a card (or more) regarding some of the survivors. With the coming of May came both the Central Illinois Highland Games (http://www.central-illinois-standrewsociety.com/)and the precursor to the heat), and Clayville's Spring Festival (http://www.clayville.org/). Both were as fun to perform at as always. The increase in the heat did cut into the performing schedule, with Clayville not having their usual July activities, and the Elijah Iles House (http://www.ileshouse.org/)cancelling their Strawberry Festival, but I have not been idle. During this time I have decided to launch Tales of Sangamon (http://www.talesofsangamon.com/), which is a website devoted to collecting stories of Sangamon County, and the surrounding area. I am truly excited about the site, and hope that some will use it so that stories of the area can be documented, since there is so little Illinois lore in print. This holiday season has had me pondering traditions, and the challenges of keeping them.
In early December I went to a Christmas Tea at the Edwards Place (http://www.springfieldart.org/), which had The Tea Ladies (http://thetealadiesinc.com/index.html) present a program on Victorian Christmas customs. It was a lovely program, and I was fascinated to learn how long it took to make a plum pudding (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_pudding), since plum pudding was part of my mother's family traditions. The program came to mind again when a friend and I were talking about the mad pace of the holiday season, and the demands of family gatherings. And it dawned on me that along with the commercialism of the season, and the increased demands to be "festive" at various gatherings (family, friends, or work), that some of the stress might come from the fact that many of the traditions we carry on were born at a time when many families had a servant or two to help. Along with the fact that the expectations of presents were usually much simpler. But I would not be one to argue for getting rid of traditions. They are often our tie to our past, and the family that has gone before. A fact that was truly brought home to me this holiday. Once my Christmas was more or less likely many others' - with the joys of decorating a tree, and the gathering of presents for special people, and the bustle of my parents in the kitchen preparing for the family gathering. And always there was the plum pudding and brandied hard sauce, the putting up of the new Scotch heather, and the burning of the bayberry candle; both the Scotch heather and the bayberry candle were for "health, wealth, and happiness." These givens continued even after it came down to just Mother and I, which we still enjoyed in the glow of tree lights. Now it is down to myself and two young hounds. The tree, the lights, and even the Scotch heather are gone, and while I had hopes of plum pudding it too was impossible when the grocery stopped carrying it. So it was down to the bayberry candle, which was to be burnt to the socket between Christmas and New Year. (http://www.ehow.com/about_5057238_bayberry-candle-signify.html) And even this I debated. The last couple of years I had to battle to keep the candle burning, which really bemused me. The candles had been made by a known company, and yet, it turned out, that the bayberry wax was around a core of inferior wax. Plus, with the pups at hand, the only safe place to burn the candle for a long space of time was the bathtub. Somehow, though, I could not give up that one tradition - one that my mother had carried on after it had been handed down to her by her father. So I rummaged in the closet, and found that I only had a few candles left, by a different company, and after picking one I settled it in the bathtub. I will admit that doing so brought me a little amusement, and an acknowledgement of the lengths I actually would go to continue a tradition. The candle burnt true, and before the clock struck midnight on New Year's Eve it was to the socket. On a related theme of Christmas traditions, and the keeping of them, I have to mention a little book I found. Not too long before Christmas I felt the need to stop in at the Widow at Windsor antique shop, though I usually only look at their displays. However, the shop is always fascinated, and I had a moment, so I gave into the impulse. And it wasn't until I was leaving that I found what I had come to get - a tiny book entitled The Message of the Bells: Or What Happened To Us on Christmas, by Hendrik Willem Van Loon. The illustrations alone were worth the price, but I was also intrigued by the story. I was vaguely familiar with Hendrik Van Loon, since my father left me a copy of his The Story of Mankind, but I knew little else of him. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hendrik_Willem_van_Loon The story of the little book centered around a Christmas that he and his wife were sharing with their children and grandchildren. Van Loon's youngest son, along with his nephews, had arranged a surprise for Henrik and his wife - the traditional arrival of the Three Wise Men. They did this to let Hendrik and his wife have tiny taste of home. A home in the Netherlands being torn by WW II. As they prepared to light the outdoor Christmas tree the grandchildren wanted to know more about their grandparents' homes, and Christmases. Henrik told them a little, but added that even the bells of Veere were silent now. It was then that all of them heard bells, but not to them American bells; to Henrik Van Loon and his wife they heard the Bells of Veere ringing clear - across oceans and maybe time. And whether his children and grandchildren heard the same bells it was such a strange occurrence that they created this beautiful little book about it. The heat of summer has made reading in a cool house very appealing, and between efforts to amuse very bored, young, coon hounds I have endeavored to focus on useful material.
The two books that have proved informative have been: Charlotte Erickson's Invisible Immigrants: The Adaptation of English and Scottish Immigrants in 19th Century America; and Robert Mazrim's The Sangamo Frontier: History & Archaeology in the Shadow of Lincoln. Invisible Immigrants offers several sets of family letters that span the century, and they also span a wide range of social backgrounds and motivations. Charlotte Erickson also offers good overviews to the letters' contexts in terms of family history and economic background. While the book was published in 1972 it still is an excellent book to have if you are interested in hearing the "voices" from the past. The only thing I could have wished for would have been more women being represented, and maybe some of the responses from England and Scotland. I have to consider The Sangamo Frontier a "gold mine" of information. Robert Mazrim has a gift for words, and weaves history and archaeology into a very readable book. However, beyond that, he offers one of the best overviews of the history of the area I have ever read. What particularly fascinated me was his discussion of "Edwards Trace" (http://www.sancohis.org/OLDER%20FILES/trace.htm), and what is being learned of its long history. Robert Mazrim's commentary on the Trace truly brings its import to life. He also offers such nuggets as the fact that "groceries" were blamed for luring young men to drink. He points out that while dry good stores and groceries both sold a range of goods, and liquor, but that it was to the groceries that the young bucks went for a wild time. Other points of interest are such offerings as the fact that good tea cups and saucers often turn up in even the most rural and rustic site. And I will fully admit that I am only half way through the book. So I am sure I will have more to add later. Though this probably also should be called, "From Memorial Day to 4th of July," and it admittedly has a touch of "Story Musing." While not intentional, since I kept hoping to write sooner, I seem to have managed a thematic framework in terms of dates. On Memorial Day Springfield had the opportunity to recognize a long-forgotten hero, Leroy Key, who was buried out at Oakridge Cemetery. For the expanded story here are links to two Illinois State Journal-Register articles: (http://www.sj-r.com/top-stories/x487935511/Dave-Bakke-Civil-War-buffs-find-grave-of-Andersonville-prisoner-in-Springfield) and (http://www.sj-r.com/top-stories/x1555987949/Dave-Bakke-Hero-of-Civil-Wars-Andersonville-prison-to-get-grave-marker-at-Oak-Ridge). What better way to recognize Memorial Day then to awaken the memory of a man who had long been lost and forgotten. A man who not only survived the horrors of Andersonville Prison, but organized against the Raiders - men who preyed on fellow prisoners. Yet a man who had to carry the weight of his actions as he was the one to supervise the trial, and execution of these Raiders - men who were also Union soldiers. And that weight, plus health issues, may have led to his suicide in 1880. Over a century later who is to say. Author Frank Crawford, and his brother John Crawford, found the grave, which lacked a tombstone, while researching, Proud to Say I am a Union Soldier: The Last Letters Home from Federal Soldiers Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865. The day for the unveiling of the stone was a perfect day, crystaline skies, with fluffy clouds, and though warm it was not so hot as to be stifling. And for whatever spirits might linger at Oakridge, particularly Mr Key, and the other civil war veterans, the scene would have seemed reminiscent of the early Memorial Days. The Municipal Band played, and with the fine outfitting of the 114h Regiment Reactivated and the 10th Illinois Volunteer Cavalry Regiment Reactivated, and the ladies of the Aid Society, the scene could have been cut from a hundred years past. The speeches were very moving, and as was fitting for Memorial Day, the ceremony bound together a recognition of all of our veterans. I was also privately proud of my Treeing Walker Coonhound, Winston, as he proved as calm as ever as the 21 gun salute went off. (To be accurate - he slept through it.) I know it sounds strange that I brought my dog with me, but Winston has already proved unaffected by loud sounds (he gets bored with bagpipes, and gets even more bored being home), and I have hopes he can train as a therapy dog due to his patience and gentle temperament. He's come a long way from being the nervous young hound that I brought home from the Animal Protective League. My silence of the month actually stems from other canine activity, since I also added a 3 month old coonhound mix, Fiona, from Animal Control. I, however, will admit that I should never name anything when tired, since I later learned that "fiona" means "white" or fair," and the pup is nearly all black. On July 1st I performed at the Elijah Iles House, "Clara Irwin's Strawberry Party." (http://iles-house.blogspot.com/) This is always a delight to perform at. While the weather the was hot the evening was clear, and I was out under the tent. This makes for a very casual time for telling as families would come out so their children could try their hands at marbles, checkers, or ring toss. And soon they would settle for story or three, and a little discussion of history. Nor was an offer of strawberry shortcake turned down. This thread comes from the fact that all I have been only able to ponder, and not to type. It is a train of thought begun by a discussion on the Storytell list about the American focus, at least at festivals, on personal stories as opposed to folktales.
I will fully admit that I haven't followed the current storytelling festival scene due to household logistics and lack of interest. I only have time, and resources, to focus on researching stories, and performing storytelling; as opposed to traveling out of town to hear it. And I count myself lucky that during the days of the Clayville, and New Salem, storytelling festivals, which were near, that the focus was still mainly on folktales. Plus there was the added benefit of the many years that Prairie Grapevine, the local folklore organization, brought in nationally known tellers. Nor do I have anything against personal stories. I have heard many fine, and powerful ones. Personal tales are part and parcel of human communication since it has we shape our world. and with some being told often enough to enter folklore themselves. What I have dealt with, though, is that for many of my audience, be they adults or teenagers, folktales are alien creatures. Maybe there is an obsession with reality? Maybe a a fear of the imagination? What makes up a lot of folktales? Magic. Or a least of hint of magic. To process the stories the listener has to call upon both creativity and the imagination. But what is the current popular fare? It is reality television shows, news shows, and talk shows. We even chase ghosts with electronic gadgets, and probably most of the audience is ambivalent about whether they want it to be a real ghost or not. A real ghost would open up doors of far vaster worlds, which can be scary to consider. This fascination, or "obsession," with reality might somewhat explain the focus on personal stories on stage. What does concern me is how to help bring back the wonder tales and legends, and other folklore, to the modern culture, particularly the modern, adult, culture. From everything I have read about storytelling that less than a hundred years ago, in some regions, these types of stories were still part of evening entertainment for the adults. There were certain types of stories for the younger children, and it was considered a mark of approaching adulthood when a youngster was allowed to listen to the later tales. Now all things magical and wonderful, at least when it comes to storytelling, is mainly considered for children. And it has reached a point where storytelling is mostly considered only for children. It has been forgotten that along with the wonderous tales that there are also wisdom tales that focus on the very human condition. I find this somewhat ironic since there is also a popular fascination with "supernatural" romance and mystery novels, and with gaming. Yet very, very few make the connection that the source of the "supernatural" elements, however weakly, have roots in folklore and in oral culture. I still remember last fall when a 13 year old girl was amazed at hearing "Tamlin," and "Jack and the Gower" (a Ozark version of a dragon slaying - in this case it was a giant alligator). She told me she had never heard anything like them; that all that was in books and tv right now was about vampires and that type of stuff. Magic and mystery can't be done away with, but they can be diluted to safe, often cliche, levels. So, have I come to any great insights into how to bring folktales and wonder tales back into popular culture? Only what I have been doing - dogged persistence, and a firm belief that these tales deserve to live and be heard. If ever a book revealed how storytelling was integrated into a community I would have to say it is Marie Campbell's Tales From The Cloud Walking Country; a book I wouldn't have known of it hadn't been a reprint of "The Girl Who Married a Flop-Eared Hound in a Reader's Digest collection.
The story had caught my attention for a couple of reasons; the first being that it was an interesting blend of traditional fairy tale, with a very American touch; the second being because I have a young hound. The story has a king getting lost, and coming upon a talking hound, that asks to marry one of his daughters. It then proceeds fairly normally in that the youngest does marry him, which turns the hound into a man, but then she has to seek him because she broke a taboo. If I had thought that tale intriguing I wasn't prepared for the actual book. Marie Campbell taught in the eastern Kentucky mountains between 1926 and 1934, and had the foresight to listen to the old tellers, and to collect what she heard. And from what she says in her introduction, this book was the first of a series, though I have not found any others. She focused this book on the fairy tales, the marchen she collected. The seventy plus stories were either handed down by the tellers' families, or provided by seasonal help, or other visitors. It is fascinating to see how many of the old world touches linger, like kings and princesses, but their favorite foods are those of the region. Basically you can see how the stories were shifting - not only because of region, but as they began to merge pieces of various stories. And that is without the effects of memory, which also came into play in some cases. Another thing the book made me aware of, though in a rather indirect way, is how these "fairy tales" were obviously prevalent on an even broader scale. They not only were providing entertainment to rural communities, but they had entered what the narrators called "blackguard" tales. Basically the fairy tale had also entered the strictly male terrain of the dirty tale. In several cases the male narrators would tell part of a fairy tale, but just end it because what they had heard wasn't fit to tell a young teacher. Not something a storyteller can use, but it reaffirms for me that once these tales, in many forms, were offered for a wide, wide audience. They were not just for the children. Just a follow up to the Dana Thomas House's Ghost Stories. The second night was just as much fun as the first
(http://www.dana-thomas.org/). I was back in Cousin Flora's room, which for me was still very comfortable. I guess she approved of the stories, which rotated between, "Tam Lin," "The Hitchhiker," and "The Organ Master." I will admit that with the flow of the crowds it was more workable to settle to short tales that would fit in after I told a little about Flora Lawrence, and the lay out of the rooms. And once the crowds began it was steady till about 8:10, when the attendees were gently herded out. |
Cathy Mosley
I am a Springfield, IL based storyteller with a fascination for how folklore travels, and for history. Archives
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