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A Contrarian’s View of History: The Myth of Independence
To view larger or order prints from the 2010 Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous, click here
Who do we thank for our independence? Surely not the British for granting us self-rule under duress. Taxation without representation? We paid among the lowest taxes in the British empire, despite the disproportionately high costs of defending our safety. Jefferson, Addams, Franklin and the rest who signed the declaration? Curious that in this day of tea parties and general unrest that we would honor a group of men who in essence declared a war without giving representation to the people they were dragging into it (Had the actions of the Continental Congress – a cherry-picked group of mostly well-heeled, politically connected members of the wealthier classes – been under the scrutiny of the 24 hour news cycle, we surely never would have declared our independence). The soldiers? A ragtag group of citizen soldiers, described by the greatest military power of its day as terrorists (and in many cases, rightly so). An army which generally had its butt kicked up and down the east coast of this continent, which only managed to stay afloat by retreat and avoiding the fight. How about the French, a country which we in this country quite often regard as cowards, but let’s face it, handed us the victory at Yorktown on a silver platter (For the record, the French lost over 2,000,000 people in both world wars, out of a population of about 40,000,000. The U.S. lost a little over half a million out of over 130,000,000. The percentage of the French population who supported the Germans in WWII was far lower than the percentage of colonists who supported the British in the revolution). We couldn’t have done it without the Frogs. The media? How about Paul Revere’s famous print of the Boston Massacre – a deliberate distortion of the facts that would have made Fox News proud. The God of our founding fathers? Take Thomas Paine – “These are the times that try men’s souls.” Believed that observation of nature, free-thinking and reason alone could prove the existence of a supreme being, without faith nor organized religion (or try these on for size … “The United States is in no sense founded upon the Christian doctrine,” – George Washington, “It does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg. I do not find in orthodox Christianity one redeeming feature,” Thomas Jefferson and finally honest Abe Lincoln “The Bible is not my book, and Christianity is not my religion. I could never give assent to the long, complicated statements of Christian dogma”). George Washington, the father of our country, a second-rate soldier prior to the revolution who made his fortune marrying a rich widow whom he never showed an excess of warmth and love, a slave-owner and member of the ruling elite, who derived his power from being a successful businessman. His great dream was to assume the trappings of an English gentleman
We’ve created a mythology about the founding of our nation (as all nations do), which when leaned upon heavily, collapses like a deck of cards and threatens to take us all along with it. There was no single ideal, no single truth, no single motive that we can point to and say “that’s what this country declared our independence to preserve). No single ideal is more American than any other, at least in reference to our birth.
In truth we owe a debt of gratitude to all of the above and countless others, not for what we wish they could have been, but for what they were. To understand the founding of our country, and the miracle that it truly was, requires seeing the people behind the myths. Human beings with all their faults, foibles, idealism and intelligence. They rose to the occasion and in many cases, far surpassed what would in most circumstances have been expected of them. The Declaration of Independence wasn’t signed as part of a grand, inspired by God plan for manifest destiny, nor did it grant us independence. They didn’t sign on to forge a new nation, but to protect their own states’ and private citizens’ rights first. Doubtless they knew that a new nation of sorts would be forged, but the details were to be hammered out years later, and fought about still to this day. It was a step along the way, a milestone in what we were to become. What we do with our independence – now as much as then – is still up to us.
Living history at the 2010 Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous
To view larger or order prints from the 2010 Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous, click here
The Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous, held in Vincennes, Indiana, a charming town on the banks of the Wabash River full of historic attractions and living history, always feels like a homecoming.
Which it is for myself, as I spent several years living and working there. But it’s not just me. I see the same spirit in the re-enactors, the merchants – even the crowd itself. It had been about seven years since I found myself near Vincennes in May, and I was itchy for it weeks before the event. And I wasn’t disappointed. Meeting up with people I hadn’t seen in half a decade was like coming home. As was seeing the faces that travel the re-enactor’s circuit, many of which I last saw the last time I was here. Vincennes has always been a crossroad for history. And it’s a crossroads still.
Held on Memorial Day Weekend, right when the weather turns hot and muggy, the activities spill out from the historical site into the town itself.
Vincennes breathes history. From its earliest native American roots, still visible in a couple of impressive mounds on the outskirts of town (as well as some smaller ones still visible around town), to its beginnings as a French fur trapping settlement, to the American Revolution, and its later history as a river town, Vincennes has witnessed more than its share of history.
Let’s run down a partial list. Vincennes was the first capital of the Indiana Territory, had the first Catholic and Presbyterian churches in Indiana, the first newspaper in Indiana, the first masonic lodge in Indiana, first bank in Indiana, first post office and sheriff’s department in Indiana, the first European settlement in Indiana, home of president William Henry Harrison, the site that he staged his troops for the Battle of Tippecanoe, and the site of his famous meeting with the Indian leader Tecumseh. Plus the birthplace of Red Skelton, which the locals will not let you forget.
The event remembered in the Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous is the taking of Fort Sackville in the Revolutionary War. In the winter of 1779, George Rogers Clark and his group of of Kentucky volunteers, marched through the icy Wabash River bottoms to take the British fort at Vincennes. There was a strategic advantage to holding the fort to be sure, but another important benefit to the war effort was that it became proof of success which George Washington could use to persuade the French to join the conflict.
And it gives a legion of merchants, re-enactors of living history and those who like brats and buffalo burgers, a reason to gather in the balmy midwestern heat for a couple days each year. The reenactment of the battle is of course, nothing close to authentic since the fort is long since gone, but instead more of a demonstration of military tactics of the period. Still impressive all the same. The merchants and entertainers, while not always authentic to the time period, are certainly abundant. And it’s all held more or less, on the site of Clark’s victory over the British.
2010 Spirit of Vincennes Rendezvous
George Rogers Clark National Historic Park in Vincennes is the home of one of the last classical memorials created by the United States government, built of granite and encircled by sixteen fluted Doric columns, under a dome of glass. Inside it’s just as breathtaking, with a bronze statue of Clark by Hermon Atkins MacNeil, surrounded by marble wainscoting and murals of the events of Clark at Vincennes. The view from the top of the stairs includes the cathedral and old burial ground, and the Lincoln memorial bridge crossing the Wabash.
Best of all though is the acoustics at the top of the stairs, against the walls of the memorial. At the end of the official activities on Saturday evening, when the troops have all been fed, an unadvertised treat awaits those who linger. Gradually, members of the various fife and drum corps make their way to the memorial for an impromptu jam session of sorts, where the drums ricochet off the building and the fifes swirl around on top, in a deafening cacophony of military music.
Situated adjacent to the old, downtown area of Vincennes, and a short walk from the other historic sites in town, a visitor is able to wander freely after hours, and take part in a variety of events. At the ball in the yard of William Henry Harrison’s home, Grouseland, there were at times pushing a hundred people, some in period dress, some just wandering in off the street, following the calls of dances two hundred or more years old. The various historical buildings were open for candlelit tours, and what was supposed to have ended for me at five in the afternoon, finally wrapped up with much sadness about ten.
Which I might add, was better than some of the times when I was more involved with the after hours activities. There was the year for instance, when I nearly slept on the grass, under the stars someplace in the vicinity of the encampment, with the smell of wood fires and the sound of music being played around campfires wafting in and out of my brain. As I said, it was a sort of homecoming for me as well, and my old home was staggering distance from the site. But I digress …
Mark your calendar for next year – Memorial Day weekend, Vincennes, Indiana, two days of historic attractions, roasted dinners, dancing, baking heat and usually a thunderstorm or two. Look for me on the steps of the memorial, just about sundown.
Philipsburg Manor: Historic Attraction in Historic Hudson Valley’s Sleepy Hollow
Philipsburg Manor Millhouse, Sleepy Hollow, New York
“The schoolmaster is generally a man of some importance in the female circle of a rural neighborhood; being considered a kind of idle, gentlemanlike personage, of vastly superior taste and accomplishments to the rough country swains, and, indeed, inferior in learning only to the parson. Our man of letters, therefore, was peculiarly happy in the smiles of all the country damsels. How he would figure among them in the churchyard, between services on Sundays; gathering grapes for them from the wild vines that overran the surrounding trees; reciting for their amusement all the epitaphs on the tombstones; or sauntering, with a whole bevy of them, along the banks of the adjacent millpond; while the more bashful country bumpkins hung sheepishly back, envying his superior elegance and address.
From the Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving
Crossing the wooden bridge onto the grounds of Philipsburg Manor is like walking into a living history story book. The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is of course, fiction. But Washington Irving included enough fact and local folklore from Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow, New York, to make it very easy to blur the lines.
The mill pond which Ichabod walked his dates around is still there, and the mill is still operational. Look in just the right direction and you see the Old Dutch Church, where his confrontation ended with the headless horseman, right there through the trees. If you’re looking for what life would have been like on Baltus Van Tassell’s farm, you’re in the right place.
Philipsburg Manor is a living history historic attraction operated by Historic Hudson Valley (which also operates Washington Irving’s Sunnyside, Van Cortland Manor and Kykuit), and they get the details right. Even the livestock is painstakingly chosen to be authentic to the period and the region. I’ve been to many restorations where everything is labelled and covered in signage, which okay, is great for learning about what you’re seeing. But it makes it damned hard to feel like you’re back in time. Given the choice between the two, I’ll do my homework first and choose the latter.
Despite the connection to Washington Irving’s whimsical story, there’s more to the history of Philipsburg Manor. Much more. Philipsburg Manor was nearly a century old by the time we get into the era in which The Legend of Sleepy Hollow was set, being founded in 1693.
Fredrick Philipse I, Lord of Philipse Manor was from the region of Netherlands called Friesland. He first settled in Flatbush on Long Island selling nails, worked his way up to tavern owner, then took the route to wealth many intelligent men through the ages have followed. He married a woman with money. Together they capitalized on a land grant from the crown, and bought a sizable estate in Westchester county and lured many of his friends there with a promise of work and low taxes.
His plantation in Sleepy Hollow, situated on the banks of the Hudson River at the point where the Pocantico River empties into it, became the center of his world-wide shipping operation. Sadly, his empire was built with slave labor. Philipse was one of the largest slave-holders in the northern colonies, purchasing at least 23 human lives. His holdings eventually stretched from the Croton River, down to what is now Riverdale, in the Bronx.
Slave cuffs at Philipsburg Manor, a historic attraction in the historic Hudson Valley's Sleepy Hollow
Today, Philipsburg Manor is both educational, and a perfect opportunity to step back in time. Restored to 1750, the manor contains many 17th and 18th century furnishings, its own dairy, offices, bedrooms, parlor and warehouse rooms. There are usually several demonstrations going on, along with many hands-on activities. Talking with an informed interpreter, like you find at Philipsburg Manor to me is a much better way of learning about a place than signs placed on or near every object.
Philipsburg Manor is undoubtedly one of my favorites of the living history restorations I’ve visited as a travel photographer. If you’re looking for an educational opportunity, you’ll find it. If you’re looking for a great book and gift shop for souvenirs and books about the area’s history, it’s one of the best. But what I like most of all, is just strolling the grounds and letting the imagination take over. It’s an enchanted place where cultures, history and folk-lore converged, and has been inspiring the imagination ever since.
“His greatest treasure of historic lore, however, was discovered in an old goblin-looking mill, situated among rocks and water-falls, with clanking wheels, and rushing streams, and all kinds of uncouth noises. A horse-shoe, nailed to the door to keep off witches and evil spirits, showed that this mill was subject to awful visitations. As we approached it, an old negro thrust his head, all dabbled with flour, out of a hole above the water-wheel, and grinned, and rolled his eyes, and looked like the very hobgoblin of the place. The illustrious Diedrich fixed upon him, at once, as the very one to give him that invaluable kind of information, never to be acquired from books. He beckoned him from his nest, sat with him by the hour on a broken mill-stone, by the side of the waterfall, heedless of the noise of the water, and the clatter of the mill; and I verily believe it was to his conference with his African sage, and the precious revelations of the good dame of the spinning wheel, that we are indebted for the surprising though true history ofIchabod Crane and the headless horseman, which has since astounded and edified the world.”
From Sleepy Hollow, by Washington Irving
Philipsburg Manor is located in Sleepy Hollow, New York, on Route 9A. For more information about Philipsburg Manor, see their website here. To learn more about Washington Irving and his associated with Sleepy Hollow, go here.
New Harmony, Indiana: 19th century crafts and living history at Heritage Artisans Week
Hands and the Scheitholt, Ruth Wintczak, Heritage Artisans Week 2010, New Harmony, Posey County, Indiana
So call me a geek, but I love historic re-enactments. Give me people in period costumes, an antiquated setting and the smell of wood burning and I’m happy as a pig in um, whatever pigs are happiest in.
After moving back to the midwest last month, I was already missing Old Bethpage Village Restoration on Long Island, or the ability to take a flying trip to Philipsburg Manor in Sleepy Hollow, New York, or Old Sturbridge Village and Plimoth Plantation in Massachusetts.
So I was downright gleeful to find Heritage Artisans Week 2010 in New Harmony, Indiana, about a 20 minute drive from my hometown. According to their website, Heritage Artisans Week gives tri-state students a chance to learn and get hands-on experience about life in the 19th century and New Harmony’s rich history. Each year, a few thousand students and geeky adults like myself attend the five day festival in the historic district of New Harmony, Indiana.
If you know nothing about New Harmony, you should know whenever they do something there it will be tasteful. My neck of the woods isn’t known for good taste, and it’s not particularly picturesque. Sure, there are rolling hills in places, lovely farm scenes, some interesting towns, but it’s not exactly a tourist destination.
New Harmony is the exception to the rule. New Harmony was founded in 1814 by George Rapp and his Harmonist followers, in an attempt to form a utopian society. One could assume that even the stern Rappites found the muggy, midwestern summers too much, and they went back to one of their earlier settlements in Pennsylvania. When they left, they sold the site to the Welsh Utopian Robert Owen, and William Maclure, who added New to the former name of Harmony. Their utopian experiment lasted from 1825 to 1829, but split up due to quarreling amongst the residents. However, the town did become a center of science, thanks to the work and connections of Maclure and David Dale Owen, son of Robert. The tradition continues today under Jane Blaffer Owen, who made it a personal quest to restore New Harmony and make it a center of the arts. It’s perhaps her spirit which drives the town toward relentless perfection and taste.
I made it to Heritage Artisans Week on Saturday, the last day of the festival. Under threatening skies, the crowd was light and the mood among the participants laid back. After a week of dealing with school children, it was probably a relief to have a smaller crowd and the opportunity to mingle with each other, many of whom are old friends, frequently running into each other on the re-enactment circuit.
New Harmony is an ideal setting for an event like this. The log cabins restored from the early days of the community provided ideal locations, and shelter from the rain. As the wind picked up and tornado warnings came and went, those in the tents cast a wary eye skyward, but shrugged it off as part of the trade. Each one I spoke with was friendly, well-informed about the ins and outs of their crafts and the history behind them. The one regret I do have about the event, was I got so involved with conversation on the particulars of native american bowmaking, and then later with Deborraha Burnett of the No Sweat Soap Company, purveyor of fine lye soap (www.nosweatsoap.com), that I forgot my stated purpose of being there – taking photos. And before I could get back to the task at hand, the clouds closed in again, and the sponsors pulled the plug on the festival.
Still, it was a good chance to reacquaint myself with New Harmony, a place you’ll no doubt be seeing a lot of on this site.
