Latest Book Read: The Treasure of Hidden Valley

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Gutenberg

Usually I choose a Gutenberg book based on ancestors I’m researching, or perhaps the area they lived or came from. This book just kinda fell into my lap, or rather my reader. I didn’t have a particular subject in mind, or era, or geographic area, when I went looking. Page after page of books scrolled by and nothing in particular caught my eye until I saw this title: The Treasure of Hidden Valley, published by Chicago: Forbes & Company in 1915. It sounded mysterious, intriguing, maybe even a little dangerous. So I downloaded it. The book didn’t disappoint. It did contain mystery, intrigue, danger, and even some romance.

Set in the early 1900’s, it’s about a young man who left his Uncle after they disagreed about his destiny. His Uncle had his life all planned out, right down to his job and who he should marry. The young man, Roderick, didn’t agree, so after a heated discussion they parted ways.

A letter from his deceased father, riding cross county on a train to Wyoming, meeting new people, learning a new profession out West, and eventually encountering a young woman rancher, take up most of the book. I’ll leave the treasure part alone and focus on what struck me about the book.

Roderick eventually ends up in San Francisco in mid April of 1906. Does that date ring a bell with you? It didn’t with me, until I read the following about him sitting on an iron bench in a little park very early in the morning:

THE contrast between the scenes in this gay city and the quiet hill life away up among the crags, the deep canyons and snow-clad peaks of southern Wyoming was indeed remarkable.

It was the morning of April eighteen, 1906, and the night had almost ended. There was a suggestion of purple on the eastern horizon—the forerunner of coming day. The crescent moon was hanging high above Mt. Tamalpais.

The town clock tolled the hour of five and still Roderick waited. Presently he was filled with a strange foreboding, a sense of oppression, that he was unable to analyze. He wondered if it presaged refusal of the great love surging in his heart for Gail Holden, the fair rider of the ranges, the sweet singer of the hills. An indescribable agitation seized him.

The minutes went slowly by. His impatience increased. He looked again at his watch and it was only a quarter after five. The city was wrapped in slumber.

Then suddenly and without warning Roderick was roughly thrown from his seat and sent sprawling onto the grass among the shrubbery. He heard an angry growling like the roar from some rudely awakened Goliath of destruction deep down in earth’s inner chambers of mystery—a roar of wrath and madness and resistless power. The ground was trembling, reeling, upheaving, shaking and splitting open into yawning fissures, while hideous noises were all around. Buildings about the park were being rent asunder and were falling into shapeless heaps of ruin.

That time period in San Francisco could only be The Great Earthquake. The author did a good job interweaving Roderick’s story amongst the devastation and destruction surrounding him. I knew it was bad, but after following Rockerick around through the city, and seeing it through his eyes, I had a new understanding of just how horrific it was.

The author ended the book with an Afterword, more details about the earthquake, in case “my readers will care to peruse a more detailed description of that tragic happening.” A small excerpt:

IT was on April 18, 1906, that San Francisco was shaken by a terrible earthquake which in its final effects resulted in the city being cremated into cinders and gray ashes…

…The trembling, gyrating, shaking and swaying vibrations, the swiftly following outbursts of fire, the cries of those pinned beneath fallen débris and of the thousands who were seeking to escape by fleeing into the parks and toward the open country, produced the wildest pandemonium.

It was the dawn of a new day abounding in hideous noises—detonations of falling masonry, the crash of crumbling, crushing walls, the shrieks of maimed and helpless victims—and all the people stupefied with a terrible fear, women weeping in hysterical fright and everyone expectant of they knew not what, unable to think coherently or reason, yet their voices filling the stricken city with cries and moans of heart-rending terror and lamentation. And all the while there came up from somewhere an unearthly threatening roar that awed the multitude into unnatural submissive bewilderment.

There is a description of what was in the newspapers of the day, “You have read in the newspapers that the cosmic disturbances of the San Francisco earthquake extended entirely across the continent. Indeed the shocks were felt distinctly in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and other Atlantic points.” Clear across the continent – the aftershocks were felt clear across the the whole United States? My high school history class didn’t supply details about the vastness of the earthquake, nor the destruction and devilish fire that consumed so much of the city. Or perhaps I was just too young to comprehend.

At any rate, my mind was stretched thinking about relatives in the middle of the US, or especially on the East coast who had relatives in San Francisco. How long did it take for them to make contact? Some must have never had contact from their loved ones. And the anxious days and weeks of waiting. How sad to never know for sure what happened to them.

What I learned from reading the book and living with the characters is our ancestors faced trials and tribulations that we might not think about unless we look in the newspapers and history books of the places they lived. And I’m not talking about Ancestry’s life story feature which throws in a couple historical sentences, like my 5 yr old g-grandmother watching stocks in the newspaper.

Use Gutenberg books, the Internet Archive, Google books or newspapers, newspapers.com, or local historical societies to learn about the time and place your ancestors lived. It may give you a new perspective on their lives and the challenges they faced, or what they endured.

Latest Book Read: Baraboo, Dells, and Devil’s Lake Region

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Gutenberg

A short book intended to “give but a faint hint of the geology, archeology, history and scenic beauty of the Baraboo, Dells, and Devil’s Lake region,” was found by typing Wisconsin into the search box of Project Gutenberg. While only looking for books on the history of Wisconsin, I was delighted to find this little gem, Baraboo, Dells, and Devil’s Lake Region, as I have always wondered about the Wisconsin Dells.

It’s about geology, the rare formations, igneous rocks, the drift covered and driftless areas, and dells. I had no clue what dells were. Now I know!

American aborigine history is also covered, including the Black Hawk War. He talks about the first white settlers who went down the Wisconsin River in 1673.

Natural beauty in the area is explained in great detail, with directions to many items of interest. However since the book was published in 1920, it’s unlikely that the farmers mentioned are still around, although some of the road names or numbers may still be the same.

-click map for larger image

What really struck a bell with me was mention of the Ringling surname. Everyone has heard of Ringling brothers, right? Specific directions are given to the spot where they pitched their first show tent in Baraboo:

Turning to the left on Second Avenue one block, then to the right one block, brings the visitor to the county jail, the site where Ringling Brothers first pitched their “big top,” May 19, 1884. The old jail stood farther back on the lot and the circus was given near the avenue, the gate of the fence enclosing the grounds standing open all day.

Although they had given hall shows before the first circus performance beneath a tent, that afternoon in May was the beginning of a road which ended in the making of several millionaires.

Interestingly enough, not too far away was the home of the Mr. and Mrs. G. G. Gollmar. They also ran a circus for many years. Their children were cousins of The Ringlings. Must have been in their genes.

One of the funnier stories he told was of a gristmill owner, puzzled why no flour was appearing after his wheels went round and round. After investigating further, he found a small grey mouse that was catching the flour as fast as it was sifting through! I did not realize a flour gristmill produced flour on such a small scale. Imagine how long a farmer might have to wait if he brought grain in to be made into flour for his wife.

Besides all the various glens, lakes, dells, streams, brooks, rivers, battlefields, deserted towns, lost cemeteries, Indian mounds, and battles mentioned, Frank Lloyd Wright, the architect, is also covered briefly towards the end of the book. Evidently not as revered for his occupation as he is now, it is the residence and a servant that draws the attention of the author:

A short distance west of the road which crosses the river near Spring Green is the location of Taliesin, Frank Lloyd Wright’s ‘love bungalow’. Here on Saturday, August 15, 1914, Julian Carlson, a negro servant, killed seven people with a hatchet, wounding two others. The dead:

Mrs. Mamah Borthwick, a woman, like the owner of the bungalow, with unconventional ideas.

Mrs. Borthwick’s son and daughter, John and Martha Cheney, aged 11 and 9 respectively.

Emil Brodelle, aged 30, an architect.

Thomas Brunker, hostler.

Ernest Weston, aged 13.

David Lindblom, gardener.

The injured were William H. Weston and Herbert Fritz, the latter escaping with a broken arm and cuts.

With gasoline the negro set fire to the building and as the occupants attempted to escape through a door and window, one by one, he struck them with a hatchet. The murderer was found in the firebox of the boiler in the basement and died later in the Dodgeville jail as a result of taking muriatic acid soon after committing the crime.

Some of the bodies were burned beyond recognition. “All that was left of her” was buried at Unity Chapel, the Cheney children were cremated in Chicago, the body of Ernest Weston was placed in the Spring Green cemetery, Emil Brodelle was interred in Milwaukee, David Lindblom was lowered in a grave at Unity Chapel and Thomas Brunker sleeps at Ridgeway.

The owner of the property was in Chicago at the time of the tragedy, returning soon after. The building was partly destroyed and later rebuilt along more pretentious lines.

Taliesin was a Cymric bard, whom Welsh legends assign to the 6th century.

Very indicative of the times was his description of Wright’s girlfriend as “unconventional,” and his little dig about the house, calling it Wright’s “love bungalow.” I remember seeing a PBS special on Frank Lloyd Wright many years ago. His taking up with a married woman caused quite a stir across the country.

The book was very interesting to me because of the author’s style of writing–the way he gave his directions and descriptions almost enabled me to see what he was talking about. I thoroughly enjoyed his graphic writing. It’s the sort of book I’d pick up and read again.

Bridge across Dell Creek

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~No cover available. Cover created from photo in book.

Latest Book Read: A History of Southern Missouri and Northern Arkansas

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Arkansas, Civil War, Gutenberg, Missouri

This book is exactly what it’s title says. The first part is about the early settlements, the main part of the book covers the author’s experiences during the Civil War. The latter part covers a little about The Kuklus and peace times.

The author, William Monks, was born in Jackson County, Alabama. His grandparents immigrated from Ireland during the Revolutionary War.

I choose the book to learn more about the area due to researching relatives in northern Arkansas and western Tennessee. The section about early settlements in Missouri and Arkansas was informative, but not exactly captivating. However it did give good descriptions of the land and how people picked homesteads.

What was gripping was Monks’ descriptions of his service during the Civil War. He went into great detail about various treks here and there around the State line, and how the Rebels continuously tried to get the Union boys to switch sides. I didn’t realize it was as cut-throat as he described. Many of skirmishes between the two sides were pretty graphic, almost horrifying. A lot of shooting, hanging, and downright abusiveness between men that were neighbors and friends before the war.

On one occasion, when the weather was very cold and bleak, I knew of their capturing some of the Federal soldiers within one mile of the fort, kept them until the coldest part of the night, just before day, stripped them naked, turned them loose, and they were compelled to travel a mile before they could reach a fire, and they were almost frostbitten. Every Union man was driven away from his home and moved his family to different posts.

And another instance:

..there was a man by the name of Rhodes, he was about eighty years of age and had been a soldier under General Jackson. His head was perfectly white and he was very feeble….About twenty-five men, organized themselves and commanded by Dr. Nunly and William Sapp, proceeded to the house of Rhodes, where he and his aged wife resided alone, called him out and told him they wanted him to go with them. His aged wife came out, and being acquainted with a part of the men, and knowing that they had participated in the hanging and shooting of a number of Union men, talked with them and asked: “You are not going to hurt my old man?” They said: “We just want him to go a piece with us over here.” Ordering the old man to come along, they went over to a point about one quarter from the house and informed him of what he had said. There they shot him, cut his ears off and his heart out. Dr. Nunly remarked that he was going to take the heart home with him, pickle it and keep it so people could see how a black republican’s heart looked. They left him lying on the ground…

Author Col. and Mrs. Monks at close of war

The book served it’s purpose. I learned a lot about the area of northern Arkansas and southern Missouri during the time some of my relatives settled there, and it did help me understand some of the things they may have experienced.

 

 

Latest Book Read: The Women Who Came in the Mayflower

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Gutenberg

Foreword

“This little book is intended as a memorial to the women who came in The Mayflower, and their comrades who came later in The Ann and The Fortune, who maintained the high standards of home life in early Plymouth Colony. There is no attempt to make a genealogical study of any family. The effort is to reveal glimpses of the communal life during 1621-1623. This is supplemented by a few silhouettes of individual matrons and maidens to whose influence we may trace increased resources in domestic life and education.”

I was intrigued as soon as I saw the title to this book for two reasons: #1, hadn’t seen anything about Mayflower women before, and #2, according to some trees in Ancestry, I have a male Mayflower ancestor. And if I had a male, there had to be a female! This is something I need to explore someday, to see if it’s actually true. But in the meantime, I took it more in an historical perspective than searching for an ancestor.

The Mayflower had 102 passengers—of whom twenty-nine were women,—they had been crowded for ten weeks into a vessel that was intended to carry about half the number of passengers.

Yuck! Can you imagine the lack of privacy, the feeling of seasickness, the stench, no way to wash your clothes, and worst of all, the lack of light and air when the hatch was closed?

“Wild winds carried away some clothes and cooking-dishes from the ship; there was a birth and a death, and occasional illness, besides the dire seasickness.” Perhaps the only way the women endured the strain and hardship was their dependence on each other.

They left in September, sailed ten weeks, and arrived in New England in November. “On Monday the thirteenth of November our people went on shore to refresh themselves and our women to wash, as they had great need.”

Another paragraph refers to several of the twenty-nine women. “There were women with frail bodies, like Rose Standish and Katherine Carver, but there were strong physiques and dauntless hearts sustained to great old age, matrons like Susanna White and Elizabeth Hopkins and young women like Priscilla Mullins, Mary Chilton, Elizabeth Tilley and Constance Hopkins. In our imaginations today, few women correspond to the clinging, fainting figures portrayed by some of the painters of ‘The Departure’ or ‘The Landing of the Pilgrims.’”

Ever wonder what they wore? Here’s another quote:

“The manifest answer is,—what they had in stock. No more absurd idea was ever invented than the picture of these Pilgrims ‘in uniform,’ gray gowns with dainty white collars and cuffs, with stiff caps and dark capes. They wore the typical garments of the period for men and women in England. There is no evidence that they adopted, to any extent, Dutch dress, for they were proud of their English birth; they left Holland partly for fear that their young people might be educated or enticed away from English standards of conduct. Mrs. Alice Morse Earle has emphasized wisely that the ‘sad-colored’ gowns and coats mentioned in wills were not ‘dismal’; the list of colors so described in England included (1638) ‘russet, purple, green, tawny, deere colour, orange colour, buffs and scarlet.’ The men wore doublets and jerkins of browns and greens, and cloaks with red and purple linings. The women wore full skirts of say, paduasoy or silk of varied colors, long, pointed stomachers,—often with bright tone,—full, sometimes puffed or slashed sleeves, and lace collars or ‘whisks’ resting upon the shoulders.”

I include one last quote, as Edward Dotey (Doty) is possibly one of my ancestors:

“Even more disturbing to the peaceful life was the first duel on June 18, between Edward Lister and Edward Dotey, both servants of Stephen Hopkins. Tradition ascribed the cause to a quarrel over the attractive elder daughter of their master, Constance Hopkins. The duel was fought with swords and daggers; both youths were slightly wounded in hand and thigh and both were sentenced, as punishment, to have their hands and feet tied together and to fast for twenty-four hours but, says a record, within an hour, because of their great pains, at their own and their master’s humble request, upon promise of better carriage, they were released by the Governor. It is easy to imagine this scene: Stephen Hopkins and his wife appealing to the Governor and Captain Standish for leniency, although the settlement was seriously troubled over the occurrence; Elder Brewster and his wife deploring the lack of Christian affection which caused the duel; Edward Winslow and his wife, dignified yet tolerant; Goodwife Helen Billington scolding as usual; Priscilla Mullins, Mary Chilton and Elizabeth Tilley condoling with the tearful and frightened Constance Hopkins, while the children stand about, excited and somewhat awed by the punishment and the distress of the offenders.”

It’s a fairly quick read, around 110 pages, depending on the format and the size of the font. If you have Mayflower ancestors, or are interested in life in the early Plymouth Colony, you may enjoy reading The Women Who Came in the Mayflower.

 

Latest Book Read: Children of the Dead End

Tags

England, Gutenberg, Ireland, Scotland

Four hundred! Yes, after downloading this book to my e-library, there are now over 400 e-books in there. All from Gutenberg, and all written over a hundred years ago, full of history and terms and customs of the times.

Children of the Dead End by Patrick MacGill has to be one of the saddest books in the Gutenberg library. There are currently 50,408 free ebooks in their library, so that could be a stretch, but it’s surely the saddest I’ve read so far.

The story begins in Ireland around the end of the 19th Century. Since one line of my family is Irish, that’s why I chose it. I know a lot about lore and how to celebrate St. Patrick’s day, but I don’t know much about the every day lives of Irish families.

Subtitled The Autobiography of an Irish Navvy¹, the forward begins with the following paragraph:

‘I wish the Kinlochleven navvies had been thrown into the loch. They would fain turn the Highlands into a cinderheap,’ said the late Andrew Lang, writing to me a few months before his death.

The first few chapters are about his home life as a child. I particularly enjoyed one of his descriptions about old customs:

Once a year, on Saint Bride’s Eve, my father came home from his day’s work, carrying a load of green rushes on his shoulders. At the door he would stand for a moment with his feet on the threshold and say these words:

“Saint Bride sends her blessings to all within. Give her welcome.”

Inside my mother would answer, “Welcome she is,” and at these words my father would loosen the shoulder-knot and throw his burden on the floor. Then he made crosses from the rushes, wonderful crosses² they were. It was said that my father was the best at that kind of work in all the countryside.

When made, they were placed in various parts of the house and farm. They were hung up in our home, over the lintel of the door, the picture of the Holy Family, the beds, the potato pile and the fireplace. One was placed over the spring well, one in the pig-sty, and one over the roof-tree of the byre. By doing this the blessing of Saint Bride remained in the house for the whole of the following year.

St. Bride’s Eve falls on February 1st. So it would be chilly and probably damp when his father was out gathering his green rushes. Just looking up the date of the holiday causes his narration to become more real to me. I can hear his father stomping his feet as he opens the door. And then the smell of outdoors and the green rushes filling the room as he says, “Saint Bride sends her blessings to all within. Give her welcome.”

And as he sat there bending and weaving his crosses, I can envison the children gathering round to peer over his shoulder, wondering if they’ll ever be able to create anything as beautiful. The author says he never could make one.

Reading a Gutenberg book brings my ancestors’ every day lives alive in a way census records and certificates cannot. Reading about his childhood was enlightening. As he grew to adulthood and tried to earn money for his family though, it became more and more apparent just how hard life could be for the Irish.

Even though parts of it are quite sad, and some would say depressing, I choose to call it insightful. They didn’t know any different, and yes, they suffered, but so did most of their neighbors and townspeople. I can certainly understand why it caused them to scrimp and save and sacrifice to get on a boat for America.

Children of the Dead End by Patrick MacGill

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¹ Some in the U.S. might not be familiar with Navvy or Navvies. It’s a British informal term meaning navigator or navigation engineer now. But back then it was an unskilled manual laborer, or a worker who does very hard physical labor, the latter being a closer match to what the author described.

² Also known as Brigid’s cross, Brigit’s cross, or Brighid’s cross, usually four arms tied at the ends with a woven square in the middle. According to Wikipedia they’re usually woven of rushes, wheat stalks or similar.

Project Gutenberg

Tags

1900s, Project Gutenberg

I am a huge fan of Project Gutenberg. If you haven’t heard of it, think Internet Archive. If you research outside of the genealogy websites, you’ve probably used the Internet Archive. If not, you ought to!

Started in 1971 by Michael S. Hart, Project Gutenberg is the world’s oldest digital library. It now contains over 49,500 books. They are all free, and I use it every day…every single day. I like to know more than dates and places about my ancestors. I also love to read. Project Gutenberg is the perfect solution to combining those two pastimes.

Every night I take my nook to bed and read historical novels. How do I choose from nearly 50,000 books?! It was a little overwhelming at first. But I’ve learned using their search engine blends my genealogy research and love of reading in an educational way.

For example, I recently discovered new ancestors in Indiana. They arrived late 19th Century. So I searched for fiction with Indiana, early 20th Century, and came up with Otherwise Phyllis.

It’s about a girl named Phyllis growing up in Indiana with all the societal rules and restrictions still on young ladies. A bit of a tomboy who’s mother ran off with one of the town’s ne’er-do-wells shortly after she was born, she is being raised by her not so talkative father, and three aunts who fuss over her fastidiously. And now that she’s had her debut into society, is being pursued by gentlemen and a couple perceived scoundrels in her town.

The plot is not complicated like modern day books, but the descriptions of everyday life in this small town in Indiana, and the rules and etiquette she’s required to live by are very detailed. Gives me a great idea of what it was like growing up in rural Indiana in the early 20th century, and a glimpse of what my female ancestors faced.

If you’ve never tried historical fiction to learn about your ancestors lives, give Project Gutenberg or Google Books a try. You might be surprised what you discover.

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Graphic created in Xara with American Text font
Cover courtesy Project Gutenberg
Otherwise Phyllis is also available in Google books

Current Book Read: The Canadian Settler’s Guide

Tags

canada, online books

Ever wonder what everyday life was like for our emigrant ancestors? We have a general idea of what it was like as far as the traveling, and what the men endured in purchasing and homesteading land, but what about our female ancestors? How did they cope so far away from home with no relatives or older women to guide their endeavors?

The Canadian Settler’s Guide by Mrs. C. P Trail explains what everyday life will be like for those female emigrants. As she explains in the preface, “Among the many books that have been written for the instruction of the Canadian emigrant, there are none exclusively devoted for the use of the wives and daughters of the future settler, who for the most part, possess but a very vague idea of the particular duties which they are destined to undertake, and are often totally unprepared to meet the emergencies of the new mode of life.”

Imagine coming to a new country where you have no mother to consult, no girlfriends, no female servants, and you may be just about the only female in the area. The weather is different. The seasons are more harsh. The crops are not the same. The method of cooking is a far cry from home. Imagine carrying Mom’s recipes to the new world, only to find the ingredients are not available, and the mode of cooking is not what your mother used. Talk about culture shock.

This book explains everything a wife needs to know to survive in the Canadian Wilderness. It contains recipes, instructions to manufacture your own necessities (maple-syrup, curing meat, producing butter and cheese, soap, candles, etc.), and how to manage your household.

One of the most important things, she explains, is good bread. Most wives were used to purchasing bread in the Mother country, and once arriving in the wilderness are uneducated as to how to make bread, let alone the fermenting or raising of the bread. She goes into how to raise hops, how to tell when it’s ripe, how to harvest it for bread use, and how to bake with it.

She also explains how to make salt-rising bread. Start with one teaspoonful of sale, one pint of warm water or new milk, thicken with as much flour as will make a batter the tichness of good cream. Mix in a jug that holds about a quart.

Set the jug in a pan half fill with warm water, but not too hot. Cover your mixture close and set it near a stove or fire. In about four hours bubbles will begin to rise on the surface. In about another two more yours the yeast will begin to rise in a fine soft creamy head.

There is a certain trial and error to getting the timing right. After a certain point, it goes down and won’t raise the bread or it turns sour (oh joy!). She goes on to explain the bread making and baking process. Bread is considered the staff of life, and a wife who couldn’t produce decent bread must have been a sorry person indeed.

I am only about halfway through the book but all that needs to be considered and understood to survive in the wilderness has already overwhelmed me! I leave you with a “simple” recipe for biscuits.

Rub into a quart of fine flour, about an ounce of butter or lard, and a little salt: mix with cold water into a stiff, smooth paste; roll it out, and strew dry flour on the paste. Work this flour well in with the rolling pin, fold it together, knead it and roll it again, throwing over it more dry flour, working it with the rolling pin until the flour is incorporated. Do this several times, or as long as you can kneed it smooth. Break it into small pieces, and roll in your hand, about the size of a large walnut, then roll with the pin into thin biscuits. Prick them with a fork, and bake on a flat pan in a brick oven. If the oven be cool, they will be tough. The more dry flour you can work into the dough, the better will be the biscuit. These are useful if you have no cake at hand and are good for the sick; rolled fine, make capital pap for weaned babies.

Current Book Read: What The “Boys” Did Over There

Tags

1900s, Gutenberg, memories, WWI

Usually when looking for a Gutenberg book on a particular topic, their search feature is the best way find it. This time the book just plopped in my lap! I admit, I read every night in bed. I’ve always loved to read, and usually it’s the latest old fiction books from Gutenberg. Rather an oxymoron, eh? Calling books published from the mid-1800s to the 19-teens latest?!

But a couple nights ago, I went to latest books, and there sat a very intriguing name: What the “Boys” Did Over There. Very interesting coincidence since I’ve been researching a WWI relative. I was touched by the page following the table of contents:

In Memoriam

This book is affectionately dedicated to “The Boys” who found their final rest in the Hallowed Soil of Martyred Belgium and France, by their more fortunate comrades.

The Authors

Here’s an excerpt about how the book was written:

IN ASSEMBLING the stories contained in this book we have endeavored to put in realistic and readable form some of the actual, and authentic, experiences of soldiers and officers of the Allied Forces, who have returned to their homes after nobly sacrificing themselves in the service of their respective countries.

It has been our endeavor to give to these stories as much of the personality of “The Boys,” who have told us their experiences, as possible, by using their own words whenever their physical condition permitted them to write their own stories.

“Wow”, I’m thinking. Here’s a book written by boys who were there − giving themselves for their countries. And these memories were written immediately after their return from the war [publication date 1918, 1919], when everything was still fresh in their minds. This isn’t history in the usual sense of the word, when someone looks back and gathers facts about an event. This is like being there. Bless you, boys.*

As I began to read, the horrors of war in general, and specifically the gassing so many experienced, were made starkly real. One of the shortest stories in the book follows:

THE HUN I WAS SURE I “GOT”
IT WAS sometime last April, 1918, when we got the order we were going over. Our artillery opened up with a full barrage. We took the right flank, and another regiment of infantry took the left. The marines took the center.

We had been told time and time again if we had to use the bayonet to pull it out quick. But somehow or other I was doubtful about that. We were having a real American hand-to-hand fight with them when I got my eye on one, something we very seldom do.

Just as I got near him he threw his gun down, and his hands up, and yelled: “Kamerad, Kamerad.”

I said “Kamerad, hell,” and became so excited I gave him a long jab with my old American bayonet and hesitated before making an attempt to pull it out.

When I tried to, it was too late for it was wedged in too firmly. I put my foot on him and pulled and pulled, but the body lifted right up with the bayonet, so I thought I’d try my luck without a bayonet.

Corporal Frank J. Sears

I released the bayonet from my rifle and left it as an American souvenir to the “Fritz”; one which he will never be able to appreciate.

This is all I remember of that battle.

~BY CORP. FRANK J. SEARS

Published by The Allied Overseas Veterans Stories Co., Inc, it’s a very compelling, somber read. If you like history, particularly WWI, check out this book.

*The authors’ names are listed below:

• Private Jesse W. Wade, Dispatch rider No. 151023. Wounded by shrapnel in the shoulder in Flanders, wounded in the leg at Soissons, Veteran of the Mexican campaigns of 1914 and 1916. Seven times cited for gallantry by the French Government.
• Sergt. Jack Winston, No. 55525, 19th Batt., Canadian Infantry, 2nd Canadian Contingent. Wounded in the right arm, left ankle and right knee. Shell-shocked and buried; also gassed at second battle of Ypres.
• Pvt. Al. Barker, No. 118, 43rd Co., 5th Regt., American Marines. Shot in the knee and gassed at Chateau-Thierry, bayonet wounds in both feet at the Marne.
• Corp. Frank J. Sears, Co. A, 9th Infantry, 2nd Div., A.E.F. Shell-shocked and gassed at Chateau-Thierry. Decorated by the French Government with the “Croix de Guerre.”
• Private A. F. Edwards, No. 6857, 1st Batt., 1st Brigade, 1st Div., Canadian Inf. Wounded in the right hand, right arm and buried by shell.
• Machine gunner George Eckhart, No. 105688, First M. G. Batt., 1st Div., A.E.F. Wounded in the leg and gassed at Cantigny. Decorated by the French Government with the “Croix de Guerre.”
• Sergt. T. S. Grundy, 15918, Royal Fusileers, Middlesex Regt., English Army. Wounded in shoulder at Ypres and gassed at Loos. Decorated by the British Government with the “Mons Star.” One of the first hundred thousand.
• Sergt. Alexander Gibb, No. 444476, 26th Batt., New Brunswick Regt., 2nd Canadian Contingent. Wounded in both legs, shell-shocked and gassed at Ypres.
• F. G. McAvity, No. 91805, gunner of the 8th Battery, 1st Canadian Field Artillery. Wounded in the left foot, left thigh, left shoulder and gassed.
• Sergt. Frederick Ralph Muir, No. 81611, 10th Batt., C.E.F. Wounded at Festubert, Belgium. Leg amputated at the knee.
• Private George Oxton, 10th Batt., C.E.F., No. 81680. Wounded at Festubert, Belgium. Right leg amputated at hip.
• Pvt. John Miller, No. 122957, 96th Co., 6th Regt., U. S. Marines.
• Pvt. Jack Kneeland, No. 105, 43rd Co., 5th Regt., American Marines. Shrapnel wound in the head at Belleau Woods, wounded and gassed at Chateau-Thierry.
• Sergt. Mark L. Nicholson, No. 3736, 10th Liverpool Scottish, B.E.F. Wounded in head at Dardanelles. Partially blinded and gassed, Hooge, France.
• Sergt. E. D. G. Aylen, No. 475337, Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry (“Princess Pats”). Blinded in right eye at Hooge, France. Wounded in left shoulder.
• Sergt. Harry Hall, No. 19805, A Co., 10th Battalion, 1st Canadian Contingent. Shrapnel wounds, left arm and leg, Givenchy, June, 1915.
• Lance Corporal Edmund Hall, 2nd Scottish Rifles, B.E.F. Regular Army, 15 years’ service, 3½ in France. Wounded, Battle of Somme, 1916. Decoration, Star of Mons.

Current Book Read: Chats on Costume

Tags

Gutenberg, History

Chats on Costume, by G. Woolliscroft Rhead, is an interesting book about costumes over the centuries. It does not go into great detail, but does have a lot of illustrations.  It was published in 1906, so don’t expect anything about 20th century dress. And it goes as far back as the Egyptian and Assyrian period.

Lest you think it’s divided up by period, it is not. It’s more along the lines of the various sorts of clothing, i.e., the tunic, the petticoat. collars and cuffs, or boots, shoes and other coverings for the feet. There’s even a chapter totally on crinoline.

It also reveals some fascinating ideas of the day, like these thoughts about why men go bald more frequently than women:

Dr. Jaeger (“Health Culture”) discusses the probable reasons for the greater prevalence of baldness among men than among women. While rejecting the theory that the competition of the beard is precarious to the hair of the head, abstracting from the latter its due nourishment, and pointing out that the long beards and luxuriant heads of hair of our ancestors refute this theory that the more strenuous head-work which falls to the share of the male sex is responsible for the loss of hair; that the unnatural custom of cutting men’s hair, first adopted when nature was abandoned in favour of the fashions of civilisation, is to blame for it; that drink, dissolute habits, or heredity is the cause—he finds that a far more probable cause is the difference between the male and female head-covering, “which latter is, as a rule, lighter, more airy, and more porous than the usually almost waterproof and exceedingly absurd male head-coverings, such as the stiff felt hats, and high hats, with the strip of leather which encircles the forehead and effectually retains the perspiration.”

~Chats on Costume, by G. Woolliscroft Rhead

Who knew male baldness could be caused by these various things?? A beard draws nourishment away from the hair of the head? Men using their brain more than women makes their hair fall out?!? Cutting your hair makes you go bald?? And finally they conclude, it’s the hats men wore which retained perspiration and thus apparently caused the hair on the head to die. My, my, talk about a totally different culture!

Speaking of head attire, we mustn’t skip the ladies. Here’s one illustration of female head-dress representing a ship in full sail!

It goes on to explain for the year 1776, fashionable head-dresses were sometimes 2 yards tall! The publications of the day were printing warnings:

A print issued by The New Fashioned Phaeton is a ‘hint to the ladies to take care of their heads.’ The ladies’ head-dress having caught alight from a chandelier hanging from the ceiling of a high room, and people are putting out the fire by means of large squirts.

~Chats on Costume, by G. Woolliscroft Rhead

I think I’d rather go bald, than have my head-dress catch on fire!!

If you’re interested in history or old costumes, it’s a great read. If you’re wondering what era your ancestors’ photos were taken, try one of the other 46,875 free ebooks Gutenberg has!

Current Book Read: Heidi

Tags

Gutenberg

Heidi by Johanna Spyri. Translated by Elisabeth P. Stork. Copyright, 1915. By J.B. Lippincott Company.

Heidi is just about my most favorite book from childhood. But I can’t say for sure why it became my favorite.

Maybe it was because she lost her family, and then found family again with her Grandfather and his friends in the mountains.

Perhaps it was my Swiss heritage calling out to the small portion of Swiss genes I possess, although I knew that not at the time!

But mostly it may have been the vision of Heidi sleeping in Grandfather’s little cabin loft on “fresh and fragrant hay” with the sounds of the wind in the pine trees she saw through her tiny round window.

Ever since I read her story (and read and reread many times as a child), I’ve been enchanted by pine trees and the wonderful sound the wind makes as it blows through their branches. No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing, if I walk by a pine tree, I always stop to hear what the wind is saying. And I think of Heidi dozing off while watching the sky full of stars overhead, and the wind tickling the pine needles on their branches.

Gutenberg has two English versions of Heidi. As most are aware, it was originally written in German. Three German editions are available on their website, as well as an audio version. I’m not sure if the audio is English or German! The version of Heidi I downloaded to my tablet is called a Gift Edition. It has delightful color illustrations.

Here are three of 14 illustrations in the book. The illustrator was Maria L. Kirk. Heidi looks pretty much as I envisioned her as a child.

There is also another English edition recently uploaded on July 25, 2014. Some illustrations are black and white drawings, and some are colored.

Here’s what Wikipedia says about the author. Johanna Spyri; (12 June 1827 – 7 July 1901) was a Swiss-born author of children’s stories, and is best known for her book Heidi. Born Johanna Louise Heusser in the rural area of Hirzel, Switzerland, as a child she spent several summers in the area around Chur in Graubünden, the setting she later would use in her novels.¹

If you didn’t read Heidi as a child, you missed a great book. It’s not too late: read it to your children or grandchildren. Chances are, they may have seen a movie or anime about her.

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¹Wikipedia. “Johanna Spyri.” Wikipedia. Wikipedia, 11 Apr. 2011. Web. 28 Aug. 2014. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johanna_Spyri.