Jenness opens up this article noting how “in 1879 S. Q. Lent, a commentator for the Michigan Pomological Society” noted when traveling through Michigan, one will notice that “it is a rare exception to find a single farm on which something has not been done toward the ornamenting of the premises” (201). Jenness notes that midwesterners began to write in journals, articles, and newspapers that “ornamental plants were a particularly appropriate way to make home attractive, that they had a positive moral influence on family members, and that they communicated the family’s virtue to the rest of the community” (202). Jenness continues to discuss how “domestic reformers, horticultural advisers, and commercial nurserymen” would advertise these ornamental plants by “advocating shade trees and flowering shrubs” and would assign “public meaning to ornamental plant culture” (203). These ornamental plants were thought of as illustrating the intelligence and well-mindedness of the individuals living inside the house (203). As noted by Jenness, “Flourishing flower beds or stately shade trees, along with well-kept dooryards and neatly mown lawns, were quiet yet very public reminders of middle-class values and respectability” (203). Jenness then continues by asking “What did ornamental plants mean to the families who cultivated them?” (204). Jenness discusses two families, the Lawrence and Buell, and the significance behind the diaries left from them describing their daily activities and life regarding cultivating these ornamental plants. Jenness then notes that “ornamental plant chores not only required a commitment from all family members, but as Esther’s diary revealed, demanded attention throughout the year” (210). Furthermore, Jenness notes that by looking at the diaries, “in the Lawrence and Buell households, both male and female family members appeared to find ornamental plant care important enough to alter work patterns and family interactions to meet its demands” (212). Jenness notes how from looking over these diaries and journals, Jenness collected that “over the years, the Lawrence and Buell families not only altered patterns of daily life and neighborhood interactions to accommodate their interest in ornamental plants, but actively used flowers and trees as ways to cement and signify family bonds” (216). Overall, Jenness notes the importance of ornamental plants not only to the society, but to the families growing these plants themselves. These plants made connections, strengthened relationships, and built an inter-connected community.
Month: March 2018
“A Brief History of the Salem Witch Trials.” Smithsonian. Accessed March 28, 2018. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/a-brief-history-of-the-salem-witch-trials-175162489/.
Karlsen, Carol F. The Devil in the Shape of a Woman: Witchcraft in Colonial New England. 1st Vintage Books ed.. New York: Vintage Books, 1989.
Norton, Mary Beth. In the Devil’s Snare: The Salem Witchcraft Crisis of 1692. 1st ed.. New York: Alfred AKnopf, 2002.
Reis, Elizabeth. Damned Women: Sinners and Witches in Puritan New England. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997.
“The Salem Witch Trials Victims: Who Were They?” History of Massachusetts (blog), August 19, 2015. http://historyofmassachusetts.org/salem-witch-trials-victims/.
“The Witch House: Tour Review.” History of Massachusetts (blog), November 10, 2015. http://historyofmassachusetts.org/the-salem-witch-house-review/.
Ulrich, Laurel. Good Wives: Image and Reality in the Lives of Women in Northern New England, L650-1750. 1st ed.. New York, N.Y.: Knopf : Distributed by Random House, 1982.
Westerkamp, Marilyn J. Women and Religion in Early America, 1600-1850: The Puritan and Evangelical Traditions. Christianity and Society in the Modern World. London ; New York: Routledge, 1999.
“Where Did the Salem Witch Trials Take Place?” History of Massachusetts (blog), October 26, 2015. http://historyofmassachusetts.org/where-did-salem-witch-trials-take-place/.
Heathcott begins by discussing the artifacts found within the Aufderheide collection (239). He notes how “researchers in material culture typically triangulate sources in order to develop robust interpretive frameworks and strategies” (240). Heathcott then states how the artifacts left by the Aufderheide family does not represent a higher-class home, but rather a middle-class identity (241). Then, Heathcott discusses embedded artifacts by discussing how the Aufderheide property “becomes place through the accumulation of ‘improvements’ over time, such as sewers, grading, house, garage, utilities, retaining walls, fences . . .” which traces lives, various fashions and customs used (241). Next, Heathcott discusses the “Urban, Civic, and Neighborhood Landscapes of St. Louis” (243). He notes the division of the German Immigrants prior, during, and post the Civil War (243). Even thought the city became industrialized fast and became wealthy, their was uneven distribution among the people – tenements, middle class, high class housing (243). Heathcott then notes the “social frameworks of an urban public culture” by noting how “the dwellings around Tower Grove Park contained small, ethnically diverse families, with the exception that no African Americans resided in the neighborhood” (247). Furthermore, he notes the most important character of the community – “the occupations of the heads of the household and their working dependents” (248). He describes that surrounding Tower Grove Park, most individuals were self-employed, “middle managers and supervisors in business concerns, and educated professionals” (248). Some earned income by “offering services from their home,” but mostly, individuals “were white-collar professionals, managers, and staff employed by larger business operations” (248). Next, Heathcott discusses “architecture and the petite Bourgeoisie” by describing how the house and its surrounding neighbors are in a “clearly demarcated status in the urban hierarchic” (249). A very important note that Heathcott mentions is that the “democratic character of the middling housing stock around Tower Grove Park unfolded in tension with nearby elite neighborhoods” and notes how “the building and the paper fragments form a mutually constitutive archive, one that revels the elated yet anxious world that the petite bourgeoisie carved out for itself in the early twentieth-century city” (251). Next, Heathcott discusses the “forging identity and connectivity in daily urban life” by discussing how the urban experience of these middle-class families was their effort to “pursue their cherished individualism through connection to broader civic and commercial networks” (257). Heathcott then discusses the social effect of clothing on the society at this time and how “clothes constituted a system of meaning for middle-class men and women” (258). Also, Heathcott notes the impact of advertisements on class and gender (258). In his conclusion, Heathcott notes how the architecture and material artifacts discovered “suggest profound inner conflicts and contradictory impulses” by lead to a “thick network of civil, religious, and commercial institutions” (267).
Liebmann begins Chapter 5 discussing “Conflagration and Migration” (83). A Pueblo messenger come to Jemez and announced that the Revolt began two days earlier than planned and stated to “take up arms and kill these Spaniards and friars who are here” (83-84). The Jemez, according to a 1689 account, humiliated and killed priest Fray Juan (84). Po’pay began to encourage the Jemez to destroy Christianity which happened to also be destroying their own land (84-85). Liebmann then discusses “Patokwa: Village of the Turquoise Moiety” by starting with describing that the Jemez went north to “start their lives over again” and built a new pueblo known as Patokwa (85). Liebmann then discusses the look of the Patokwa by describing it as having “two large rectangular plazas, surrounded by mounded roomblocks in all four of the cardinal directions” (87). Next, Liebmann notes the mapping of Patokwa and discussed how they used a primary tool in mapping the Patokwa called “total station” which is “an electronic surveying instrument that records the precise location of points across the landscape (88). After, Liebmann discusses the process of the construction by noting the “ladder-type” construction of the building of Patokwa. Because of this, Liebmann notes that the “ladder construction requires coordination and control of labor above the household level because it is typically undertaken by cooperative communal work groups rather than individual family unites” (90). Liebmann then discusses how to estimate the people at Patokwa by considering “the estimated number of occupied rooms at a site” to determine the past Pueblo population (93). After that, Liebmann discusses “raids and factionalism” in 1681 through 1683 and notes that “defensibility was probably a major factor in the architectural planning of the village” (95). Continuing with factionalism in the early 1680s, Liebmann note show factionalism was quite common and frequent within the Pueblo societies. Next, Liebmann discusses “Boletsakwa: Pueblo of the Abalone Shell” (100). Boletsakwa is a mesa that it higher in elevation and has much more vegetation compared to Patokwa (101). Liebmann then discusses the mapping of Boletsakwa by using similar techniques used when mapping Patokwa such as tge total station technique (103). Liebmann notes that the “major difference between the two sites is the significantly higher visibility of many of the rooms and walls at Boletsakwa (103). Liebmann then discusses the rooms at Boletsakwa and noted that their “investigations documented 168 ground-floor rooms at the Revolt-era component of Boletsakwa” (105). Lastly discussed by Liebmann was the population at Boletsakwa in which he mentions that “there are no known historical records regarding the population of Boletsakwa,” but they calculated that their “is an estimated population of 451 inhabitants” gathered by their research (108).
The article starts out discussing the surrounding of the Jemez by enemy soldiers and their decision to chose “death over surrender” (1). Liebmann mentions how the Jemez knew about the future attack of the Spaniards on their village (1). Both the Spaniards and the Jemez described this intervention as being attributed to “the intervention of the saints” (2). Next, Liebmann discusses Po’pays Prophecy. Fourteen years previous to the attack previously mentioned, Po’pay appeared stating that he “received a revelation from the spirits” and that the spirits said “the Spaniards must die” (3). On August 10, 1680, Po’pays Prophecy was finally realized and the Pueblo Indians united with their allies and attacked the colonial settlers (3). Next, Liebmann discusses “Pariahs and Paladins: The Romance and Tragedy of Native Revolts” (4). Liebmann notes how in previous accounts of history, most actions taken by Native Americans were viewed as “savagery,” but recently, “Native American revolts occupy a unique place in the American consciousness” (4-5). As noted by Liebmann, these revolts tend to be noted as failures because of their lack of correspondence to Eurocentric ideals (6). Furthermore, he notes that “Native American revolts tend to follow to basic plotlines: that of romance or tragedy” (6). Then, Liebmann discusses the metahistory if the Pueblo Revolt and the little attention it received from historians and how that is problematic to the historical field (6). Next, Liebmann discusses historical anthropology and how the “patterns in the Pueblo Revolt . . . are characteristic of anticolonial liberation movements worldwide” (10). Next, he discusses the subaltern resistance of the Pueblo peoples noted that the marginalized group during this revolutions were “women, children, ethnic minorities, disenfranchised groups, enslaved persons, nonliterate members of society, and indigenous peoples” (12). Furthermore, Liebmann focuses on the revitalization movements and defines it as “a calculated, methodical effort to reform culture and society that frequently occurs in colonial situations” such as “situations of stress or rapidly shifting power relations” (14-15). Getting closer to the end, Liebmann begins to discuss the “signs of struggle and the struggle over signs” (17). He notes how the colonial domination of a society can effect all aspects of colonial life (17). Going into “collaborative archaeology in the Jemez province of New Mexico,” Liebmann notes how the documents during this time illustrate the “drastic changes in settlement patterns, architecture, ceramic production, and trade” (19). Lastly, Liebmann introduces the surface archaeology as a “noninvasive research strategy” (22). First, Liebmann notes that there can be no disturbance of human remains, no destruction of nonrenewable resources, and lastly, sites are compliant to surface studies” (22-23).
This article describes a slave from Fredericksburg, VA named John Washington. John Washington was taught how to read and write, and was given experiences that was not typical for a slave such as working around Fredericksburg and gaining the experience of the world around him (50). Then, Hanna explains how John left his ‘home’ and went over to a Union army camp to finally gain his freedom (51). In 1873, Washington because a house and sign painter in Washington, D.C. and decided to write a memoir about his time in Fredericksburg, which included maps (51). Washington’s map was not a normal map, but instead was a map that represented his personal experiences while in Fredericksburg (51). Hanna notes that historians would interpret the meaning behind Washington’s memoir, but would disregard the map (51). Hanna notes that because Washington drew this map without accuracy or the technology, it is often disregarded even though it still contains important information (52). Hanna notes that indeed, this map was not created to help someone navigate around Fredericksburg, but it is important because it helps historians understand Washington’s perspectives and experiences as a slave. Hanna further notes that historians need to see maps as both textual representations and material practices (53). Hanna then discusses how maps (planter landscapes) were made in order to show poor whites and slaves what the elite white individuals did not know (54). Slaves were controlled by whites throughout their whole life. As Hanna states, “In contrast to the anger and sadness expressed in his description of these systems of control, Washington takes great delight in detailing the moments and spaces he took to escape this control (55). Washington created this map to illustrate his happiness, his freedom, his enjoyment. Hanna then discusses how Washington gained access as a slave to the insight of being a cartographer. Hanna notes, “While Reconstruction did not lead to the full citizenship that the newly emancipated sought, educational and economic opportunities for men like Washington expanded greatly” (56). Even though he gained access and experience, his memory was still a very important aspect to his map making (58). For 134 years, this map was never publicly displayed due to the passing down of the map through generations, but as Hanna notes, “Since its publication in 2007, however, Washington’s map and the experiences of slavery, resistance, and emancipation it represents are open to new subjects performing the map within new contexts” (60).