The "Oops Page" is dedicated to two goals:Unfortunately, after this the search quickly becomes muddy. Various writers have claimed that Jim Thorpe was Black Hawk's grandson; others state he was his great-grandson. Some indicate Sauk decendancy through his father, other claim his mother was decendant from Black Hawk. Attempts to trace Thorpe's lineage through Whirling Thunder tend to peter out simply due to a lack of credible information. In short, such a distinguished lineage, laced with a blend of irony touched with a sense of ultimate triumph for Black Hawk generations later, should be fairly straighforward to trace.... wouldn't it?1.) To announce errors or omissions by the Society as a means of correction and education; and
2.) to examine popularly held notions from a historic standpoint, and to see if these notions can stand the test of scrutiny and factual inquiry.
This "Oops Page" is meant to be provocative, informative, and entertaining. It is also meant to challenge pre-conceptions and historical "mythology" that has existed for a long time in oral and practical traditions. The "Oops Page" is not meant or intended to offend anyone for any reason. If you are someone who, for whatever reason, cannot endure thoughtful, provocative examinations of long-held concepts and notions... then this page may not be for you.
We will add new insights to our "Oops Page" from time to time, so check back often!
"Frizzen"
The singular problem with the "frizzen," the metal arm of the lock portion of a flintlock that sparks when struck by a flint, is the word "frizzen" itself. The term is conspicuously absent in drill manuals that predate the American Civil War. It is not found in the 1825 drill manual, nor in the "Abstract" of 1828. It is not found in Gen. Winfield Scott’s Tactics manual dated 1836 on. Perhaps the term "frizzen" comes from America’s colonial experience? Mr. Mark Tully of Baraboo effectively dismantles this notion:
Rifles, pistols, muskets, fusees, carbines--the one thing that they all have in common is the lock. But how well do each of us know the various parts that comprise this vital piece of machinery? Perhaps the most common faux pas we make when talking with the public about our weapons is in calling the cock a hammer and the hammer a ‘frizzen.’ The cock apparently got its name from its resemblance to a pecking rooster, and only became known as a "hammer" much later in the percussion-cap era. As for the term ‘frizzen,’ there simply was no such word in the 18th-century; in fact I could not find ‘frizzen’ listed in ANY dictionary, new or old, including the huge, multi-volume Oxford Dictionary of the English Language. The best guess I have heard so far is that this anachronistic term dates from the late 19th or early 20th-century and is a corruption of the Dutch or Germanic word ‘frizzel’ or ‘furison,’ both of which were apparently first used to described the hammer of a flintlock in 1892.The term ‘frizzen cover’ is also an anachronism. Both Simes and Cuthbertson talk of ‘hammer stalls,’ being used as a safety device, but there is no mention of frizzens or frizzen covers in either text. The hammer can also be referred to as a ‘steel,’ but should never be called a frizzen.
The word "frizzen" is not found in Noah Webster’s 1828 American Dictionary of the English Language. Work by museum professional and historian Mike Breza indicated "I did take a look in a 1810 and 1814 dictionary. I found no frizzen in either. I also see that touch hole (cannon) and touch pan (musket) are used then. A gun a soldier uses is a firelock. No other info could be gained."
Webster's 1828 Dictionary defined "cock" as The part of a musket or other fire arm, to which a flint is attached, and which, being impelled by a spring, strikes fire, and opens the pan at the same time. Finally, I located several pre-Civil War manuals that lists flintlock nomenclature. While one such manual terms the "cock" as the "hammer" (a percussion weapon term,) there is again NO mention of the frizzen.
Some investigators have claimed that that the term "frizzen" is a civilian term. Indeed, my good friend Jim Patton pointed out a mention of "frizen" in Ellen Whitney's The Black Hawk War 1831-2, Vol. II, Letters and Papers, Part II, p. 1238:
Henry Eddy: Statement of Arms Issued in 1832 (Jan. 1, 1833) Statement shewing the number of arms Issued by the Quarter Master General to supply the volunteers called into service during the spring and summer of 1832, against the Indians and the number returned &c.Muskets 11 Bayts. 7 Wipers & 5 screws by Capt. Dunn one ramrod & frizen broke.
Likewise, Jim located the following citation in Dictionary of Americanisms, The University of Chicago Press, Chicago, IL, 1951:
Other investigators have cited military manuals from the 1840s-50s that seem to indicate the use of the word. Indeed, the citation from the Disctionary of Americans (a reprint of a book purportedly published in 1848) has examples of the word "frizin" dated from 1850 and later. However, the lone citation from Whitney's book appears to indicate the existance of the word in 1832.frizen, frizin, n. [Cf. EDD frizzens, "plow irons."] The frizzle of a flintlock gun; the pan cover or plate struck by the flint.
Colloq.--1850 Lewis - La. Swamp Doctor 173, I primed old 'bar death' fresh, and rubbed the frizin, for it war no time for rifle to get to snappin'. 1853 P. Paxton - Yankee in Texas 175 Down I sat, shook out my priming, wiped the frizen, then up again, and taking a long, deliberate aim, touched the hair trigger.
CONCLUSION: While the evidence suggests that the term "frizzle" of "frizen" or "frizzen" did exist in 1832-3, the use of the term or its citation is so rare in period texts, journals, and accounts as to discount its widespread use in historical recreation circles today. Clearly the military manuals, etc. of the period used the expression "hammer." The words "steel" or "battery" also appear to be correct.
"Tankards" or tapered tin cups.
While it is clear from prints and artifacts that tankard-style tapered tin cup were available and used during the American Colonial period, we wanted to know if the use of this cup style extended into the 1820s-1830s. The reason for this query is that there is a preponderance of use of this cup by historical reenactors of the 1820-1830 time period, but apparently little hard evidence to support the common use of this specific cup style.
Our investigation into this issue yielded some interesting results. First, museum professional and historian Mike Breza commented:
"I took a look at what was on the shelf's in the library here about tin ware. We do not have a catalog that dates back to the 1830s, so I could not look at an image. The books we have about tin ware did not show any taper cups from the early (1820) onward. A good book is the Connecticut Tinsmiths. They show the painted tin items the peddlers packed in. They have the straight side cups, no tapers."Frank G. White, curator of mechanical arts at Old Sturbridge Village, opined:
"Both straight sided and tapered, tankard style cups were commonly made in the 18th and early 19th centuries. However, the tapered cups are generally regarded as measures, especially as they are often found as part of a set of tin measures. The straight-sided versions are considered drinking cups, and a variant is often found with a receptacle attached to the outside for a brush and a holder for soap, that was commonly used as a shaving cup. All three of these types are represented in our collections, but none of the examples is readily datable. The earliest illustrated catalog of tinware that we have dates to 1869, but neither cups nor measures is shown. Cups and measures are shown in an 1870s catalog and are differentiated as I mentioned above except that the measures all have pouring lips."Thus, the best evidence that we have for considering this question is from the various tinware price lists that range in date from the 1790s to about 1860. They are called "Bills of Days Work" and reflect the quantity of each particular article that a competent journeyman tinsmith was expected to make in a day's time. Unfortunately, they are not very descriptive, but the 1839 'New England Bill of Days Work' lists 'pint measures,' 'pint flat cups,' '1/2 pint measures (flaring),' '1/2 pint measures, straight measures (punched bottoms),' and '1/2 pint flat cups.' My inclination is to interpret the 'flaring measures' as being of the tankard style and ‘flat cups’ as straight-sided, but then the 'straight measures' with 'punched' bottoms confuse the issue.
"The Philadelphia list of 1835 offers an interesting item in 'Beer Mugs 2-4 quart with covers on lips.' Were these mugs of the tankard style? It is tempting to think so, but even so they are not found on any of the several New England lists. None of the other price lists offer anything useful. I think it is probably safe to say that both tankard style and straight-sided cups were still being made in the early 19th century, but that the trend towards the middle of the century was to make the tankard style as measures and not as drinking cups. This is admittedly based on very minimal information, but it is the best answer that I can give you at this time."
CONCLUSION: While the jury is still out on this one, it appears more likely than not, that the common tin cup of the 1820-1830s time period was the straight sided cup.
Jefferson Davis served in the Black Hawk War.
Popular history, websites, and even a few serious historians offer the suggestion that Jefferson Davis, the future president of the Confederacy, served in the Black Hawk War while a lieutenant stationed at Fort Crawford, Prairie du Chien, Michigan Territory (Wisconsin.) Davis’ own words fostered and perpetuated this notion to the present day. An issue of The Midland Monthly featured an article entitled "Jefferson Davis and the Black Hawk War." In this article, writer Charles Aldrich quoted Davis’ comments regarding the fight at Wisconsin Heights:
This was the most brilliant exhibition of military tactics I ever witnessed, a feat of the most consummate management and bravery, in the face of an enemy of greatly superior numbers. … Had it been performed by white men, it would have been immortalized as one of the most splendid achievements in military history.
In fact, Davis never "witnessed" the tactics he described because neither he, nor any other Regular officer or soldier was present at the Battle of Wisconsin Heights. Instead, Lieutenant Davis was home in Mississippi on furlough for the bulk of the Black Hawk War, returning after the Battle of the Mississippi (Bad Axe) had been fought. Davis DID accompany Black Hawk and his associates to Jefferson Barracks, but this appears to be the full extent of Davis’ contributions. This apparent reality became a contributing factor in the replacement of Wisconsin Historical Sociewty markers at Wisconsin Heights in the early 1990s.
CONCLUSION: Despite some historians, teachers, lecturers and writers’ use of Davis’ pro-Black Hawk remarks to bolster arguments supportive of Black Hawk’s cause and his prowess in battle, and the coupling of Lincoln and Davis serving in the same war (and the attendant irony)— it is all mythology. Jefferson Davis never served a day of active service in the shooting conflict known as the Black Hawk War.
Black Hawk tried to surrender three times.
The typical story line follows that the sending of a white flag to the militia at Old Man Creek on May 14, 1832; the unknown voice calling out to the militia on the evening after the Battle of Wisconsin Heights, and Black Hawk’s use of a white flag during his encounter with the Warrior on August 1, 1832 all point to three "surrender attempts" on the part of Black Hawk. Interestingly, Black Hawk, in his own Autobiography, mentions that he attempted surrender only once— on August 1, 1832 when the armed steamer Warrior confronted the "British Band" on the banks of the Mississippi. Mr. J. B. Patterson quoted Black Hawk as saying:
We had been here but a little while before we saw a steamboat (the ‘Warrior,’) coming. I told my braves not to shoot, as I intended going on board, so that we might save our women and children. I knew the captain (Throckmorton) and was determined to give myself up to him. I then sent for my white flag. While the messenger was gone, I took a small piece of white cotton and put it on a pole, and called to the captain of the boat, and told him to send his little canoe ashore and let me come aboard. The people on board asked whether we were Sacs or Winnebagoes. I told a Winnebago to tell them that we were Sacs, and wanted to give ourselves up!In contrast, the use of the white flag on May 14, 1832 at Old Man Creek was clearly an attempt at a "cessation of hostilities" or parley. This is not surrender— and Black Hawk, by virtue of his military experience with the British during the War of 1812 clearly knew the difference between parley and surrender. At no time during his recollection of the "Stillman’s Run" affair in his 1834 Autobiography does Black Hawk use the word "surrender."
Similarly, the voice heard coming from "Black Hawk’s Mound" on the second evening after the Battle of Wisconsin Heights had numerous witnesses. Of those eyewitnesses who knew at least a portion of the Winnebago language, each remarked that the voice seemed to be issuing a plea for the escaping Indians to be left alone. This is not surrender, either.
CONCLUSION:: Black Hawk attempted to surrender only once during the Black Hawk War— on August 1, 1832 along the banks of the Mississippi River during the encounter with the armed steamer Warrior.
Who Wore What?
In the Collections of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin, Vol. 5, pp. 226-227, we read the recollections of John H. Fonda, a mail-runner between Fort Howard at Green Bay and Fort Dearborn (present-day Chicago) in 1827. During this service, he described his clothing and equipage:
My dress was à la hunter, one common to the early period, and best suited to my purpose. A smoke-tanned buckskin hunting shirt. Trimmed leggings of the same material, a wolf-skin chapeau with the animal's tail still attached; and moccasins of elk hide. I must have had the appearance of the perfect Nimrod. My arms consisted on a heavy mountaineering rifle I bought in St. Louis. …I had the barrel shortened and the cheek piece cut off, and a strap attached to it, so I could sling it over my back. Suspended by a strap from my shoulder was a large horn containing two pounds of [gun] powder. Buckled around my waist and over the hunting shirt, was a belt containing a sheath-knife and two pistols… attached to the belt also, was a pouch of mink skin, wherein I carried my rifle bullets. The foregoing comprised my arms and accouterment of offence [sic] if we except a short-handled axe, thrust into the waistbelt.In 1930, Sylvan J. Muldoon published Alexander Hamilton's Pioneer Son: The Life and Times of Colonel William Stephen Hamilton. On pp. 105-6, Muldoon wrote:
Dressed in a smoke-tanned buckskin hunting shirt and leggings of the same material, wolfskin chapeau with the animal's tail still attached; carrying two pistols, a rifle and a mackinaw [sic] blanket; a powder-horn suspended on a strap thrown over the shoulder, a knife in his belt, and a short handled axe, Hamilton was like a reconstructed Daniel Boone, who had died only a few years before.In his book, Muldoon lists as his source Hamilton's nephew, Schulyer Hamilton. Schulyer was the fifth son of John Church Hamilton, himself a brother of "Billy" and born just before "Billy." Schulyer was born on July 25, 1822 in New York City, and died on Mar 18, 1903 in New York City. Schulyer would have just turned ten years of age at the time of the Black Hawk War, so it is possible that he knew his Uncle "Billy." Muldoon's book was published 27 years after Schulyer's death, which calls into question whether or not Muldoon actually interviewed Schulyer, or instead used his or the Hamilton family's written recollections. Certainly, there are amazimg similarities between the two quotes. Maybe TOO amazing?
CONCLUSION: Either John Fonda set a fashion trend for the aspiring nimrods of the Michigan Territory, or Mr. Muldoon has some explaining to do regarding the source of this quote. (By the way, Daniel Boone died on September 26, 1820 at the age of 85.)
"Fifty verses 1,000" at Wisconsin Heights.
One of the more hotly debated subjects is the issue of numbers of the combatants at the Battle of Wisconsin Heights, June 21, 1832.
Numerous sources cite "fifty" as the number of warriors under Black Hawk's command. There is some basis for this claim. In the 1882 edition of his Autobiography, Black Hawk is translated as saying:
Neapope, with a party of twenty, remained in our rear, to watch for the enemy, whilst we were proceeding to the Wisconsin, with our women and children. We arrived, and had commenced crossing over to an island, when we discovered a large body of the enemy coming towards us. We were now compelled to fight, or sacrifice our wives and children to the fury of the whites. I met them with fifty warriors, (having left the balance to assist our women and children in crossing) about a mile from the river, when an attack immediately commenced [emphasis added].Later in his account, Black Hawk again uses the number "fifty":In this skirmish with fifty braves, I defended and accomplished my passage over the Wisconsin, with a loss of only six men, though opposed by a host of mounted militia. I would not have fought there, but to gain time for our women and children to cross to an island [emphasis added].One of the great enduring myths of the Wisconsin Heights battle was that the British Band held off a 800-1000 man militia "army" with 50 warriors. Black Hawk's account, taken by itself and uncooberated by any other accounts, certainly gives that impression. And this literal interpretation from Black Hawk's viewpoint alone has become the story that has endured in popular imagery from at least the 1970's to the present day.
Authors like Thayer and Nichols alluded to the fact that there simply HAD to be more native casualites than the six fatalities recorded by Black Hawk in his Autobiography. Indeed, a compilation of militia and later Indian survivor accounts convincingly support this contention.
Without getting into a lengthy dissertation, analysis and research places the number of warriors in Black Hawk's defensive action at Wisconsin Heights at four to five times the number given by Black Hawk, excluding the twenty-man rear-guard led by Ne-a-pope that deserted before the battle.
Likewise, the militia numbers have been and remain drastically overstated in the two markers erected by the Wisconsin Historical Society at Wisconsin Heights. General Henry and Colonel Dodge simply didn't have 700 men in the field on July 21... and they certainly didn't have that number engaged!
CONCLUSION: Rather than the 700 to 50 (14 : 1) odds claimed by many popular historians, by the time Gen. Henry's militia regiments arrived on the field, the the odds were likely somewhere between 2.5 : 1 to 3 : 1, in favor of the militia.
Is O. K. "okay?"In the early years of the Republic, America was just taking a stab at the business of putting its own twist on the English language. Already a land containing many peoples from a variety of national origins and cultural backgrounds, language, idioms, and dialect varied throughout different regions of the country. The first attempts at a standardized English language included Noah Webster's famed American Dictionary of the English Language.
But twists in the language, sometimes called "Americanisms" neither bagan nor ended with Webster's writings. Idioms like "bolixed" or "mommick" grew up beside nicknames for famed Americans. Among these were: "Old Hickory" for Andrew Jackson; "Harry of the West" for Henry Clay; "Tippecanoe" and "The Farmer of North Bend" for William Henry Harrison; and "Wizard of Old Kinderhook" for Martin Van Buren
We frequently hear the time-honored "O.K." in our modern daily activities and exchanges. We particularly hear "O. K." at historical re-creation events as spoken by costumed interpreters. These persons have portrayed persona ranging from Jamestown settlers to Civil War infantrymen. But what is the origin of this idiom in American lexicon? It does not appear, for example, in John Russell Bartlett's Dictionary of Americanisms.
One answer may be found with and examination of the entimology of "O.K." Mr. David Wilton has explored this topic and reported the following:
Allen Walker Read of Columbia University solved the mystery in a series of articles in American Speech in 1963-64. In 1839, a "frolicsome group," as Read describes them, called the Anti-Bell-Ringing Society in Boston started using the term to stand for oll korrect, a facetious misspelling.The first recorded use of OK was in the spring of 1839 by the Boston Morning Post:
(23 March) He of the Journal...would have the 'contribution box,' et ceteras, o.k.--all correct--and cause the corks to fly, like sparks, upward.By July of that year, the term spread south to New York, and quickly gained wide acceptance:(26 March) Had the pleasure of taking these 'interesting strangers' by the hand, and wishing them a speedy passage to the Commercial Emporium, They were o.k.
(10 April) It is hardly necessary to say to those who know Mr. Hughes, that his establishment will be found to be 'A. No. One'--that is, O.K.--all correct.
(27 July, Evening Tattler) These 'wise men from the East'...are right...to play at bowls with us as long as we are willing to set ourselves up, like skittles, to be knocked down for their amusement and emolument. OK! all correct!The next year, 1840, New York Democrats formed an organization called the OK Club. The name of the club stood for Old Kinderhook as Martin Van Buren was running for reelection that year. Since the term was in use prior to the formation of the OK Club, it seems likely that the name of the club was due in part due to the phrase, not vice versa. The activities of the OK Club, however, undoubtedly contributed to the popularity of OK even if not providing the origin.
Mr. Cecil Adams likewise quoted Dr. Read's work. He wrote:
The abbreviation fad began in Boston in the summer of 1838 and spread to New York and New Orleans in 1839. The Boston newspapers began referring satirically to the local swells as OFM, "our first men," and used expressions like NG, "no go," GT, "gone to Texas," and SP, "small potatoes."Many of the abbreviated expressions were exaggerated misspellings, a stock in trade of the humorists of the day. One predecessor of OK was OW, "oll wright," and there was also KY, "know yuse," KG, "know go," and NS, "nuff said."
Most of these acronyms enjoyed only a brief popularity. But OK was an exception, no doubt because it came in so handy. It first found its way into print in Boston in March of 1839 and soon became widespread among the hipper element.
It didn't really enter the language at large, however, until 1840. That's when Democratic supporters of Martin Van Buren adopted it as the name of their political club, giving OK a double meaning. ("Old Kinderhook" was a native of Kinderhook, New York.)
CONCLUSION: It certainly appears that the time-honored "O.K." appeared in general use after 1840, and endures to the present day. "NS!"
Breaking the tips on clay pipe stems.It is a treasured interpretive moment at many historic sites-- the guide or docent reaches into the pipebox on the wall, draws out a long-stemmed white clay pipe, and explains that after such pipes were smoked, the user would break off the tip for the next smoker. This, the guide will usually explain, is the reason so many clay pipe stem fragments are found in archaeological sites. A great story--indeed, a strangely compelling story-- that most readers of this page have heard at least once.
But is it true?
By most anecdotal accounts, this "explaination" originated many years ago and allegedly attributed to Colonial Williamsburg. The large amount of kaolin pipe stem fragments found in Williamsburg's digs became fodder for speculation in archaeological circles. In one form or another, the story of breaking off the tip of the long-stemmed pipes (known as "churchwarden" or "alderman" pipes) purportedly for reasons of sanitation (or tar build-up) circulated in historical circles. The thread of this story was picked up by George Neumann and Frank Kravic in their Collector's Illustrated Encyclopedia of the American Revolution, p. 244:
Smoking: This was done in white pipes with long stems. As tars accumulated in the mouth of the stem, it was broken off to remove the unpleasant taste. Thus pipes became steadily shorter until they could no longer be used, and the bowl was discarded. Such clay pipes were common in Revolutionary War camps...Regarding the so-called “churchwarden,” Jack Larkin of Old Sturbridge Village opined:
Where the smokers of early colonial America “drank” or gulped smoke through the short, thick stems of their seventeenth century pipes, those of the 1800 inhaled in more slowly and gradually; from the early seventeenth to the late eighteenth century, pipe stems became steadily longer and narrower, increasingly distancing themselves from their burning tobacco.However, the long-stemmed churchwardens carried with them the association with the patrician class, particularly in the Eastern United States. As long-stemmed pipes were slightly more expensive, those more well-to-do could afford them. This left short-stemmed clay pipes to the masses-- all facts indicated in Washington Irving's 1809 publication Diedrich Knickerbocker's History of New York from the Beginning of the World to the End of the Dutch Dynasty. Indeed, when Clement Clarke Moore published his “Visit from St. Nicholas,” he ensured that the “stub of a pipe”—or short-stemmed pipe emblematic of the plebian class— identified the saint not with the old Dutch “Knickerbocker” aristocracy of New York City, but instead with the city’s working class. It was a potent symbol not lost on Moore's readership.
While it appears that long stemmed pipes endured through the colonial era in America, short-stemmed clays predominated-- particularly among the poorer settlers on the frontier. Clay pipe fragments are a common find in 1820s – 1830s archaeological sites. Numerous such fragments have been unearthed during excavations at Fort Crawford (Prairie du Chein) site, Apple River Fort (Elizabeth, IL) Mound Fort (at the Blue Mounds west of Madison, Wisconsin), the Indian Agency House (Portage, Wisconsin), Fort Atkinson, Nebraska, and other sited in Illinois and Wisconsin.
Since the presence of clay pipes in Jacksonian America is well-established, what of the practice of breaking off the tips for the next smoker? The available literature is strangely devoid of such mentions. Indeed, Juliette Kinzie recorded in her book Wau-Bun, p. 156, an account of a group of men smoking, but no mention of the breaking off of pipestem tips:
The bourgeois stuffed his pockets with crackers and, when sure of being quite unobserved, would slily eat one. Pipe after pipe passed — the men grew hungry, but observing that there were no preparations of a meal to the bourgeois, they bore their fast without complaining.Modern pipe smokers confirm that clay pipes provide some positive and some curious attributes. First, a clay pipe is ready to smoke, with no break-in time normally associated with briar pipes. Tars and residue from extended smoking tend to permiate the semi-porous clay, causing a discoloration to the pipe stem and bowl. While tars do build up in the stem, simply breaking off the tip does not eliminate the bitter taste, as the residues extend for the length of the stem. This accumulation can be reduced by storing the pipe with the stem angled up, or by placing the pipe on the hot coals of a campfire until the residues have been burned away. Finally, clay pipes are brittle, particularly when wet.
Research done in archaeological digs dating from the early establishment of post-colonial blocks and streets on Manhattan Island, New York City revealed an interesting fact-- almost none of the broken pipe stem pieces bore teeth marks. The finding here is that either the fragments were from a pipe broken by accident, or perhaps deliberately broken to make a short-stemmed pipe emblematic of the laboring class.
Indeed, in recent years, docents at Colonial Williamsburg have echoed these findings. They note that in an era where bathing was rare and dirt taken for granted, why would there be such a fixation on oral sanitation among pipe smokers? Pipe fragments therefore were most likely the result of accidental breakage.
CONCLUSION: Clay pipes were fragile. Archaeological evidence, and the lack of cooberating historical accounts, suggests that pipe stem fragments found in digs were the result of breakage, generally by accidental dropping. There is no evidence to support the notion that long pipe stems were deliberately broken off for the "sanitary" use of the "next smoker."
Is it "Huzzah!" or "Hurrah!" ?
When offering a cheer at an historic site or event, we often hear the word "huzzah"-- a strange-sounding word indeed to modern ears. There seems little doubt that interpreters have delved into the literature and, desiring to provide the appropriate expression for a cheer of bygone days, will let loose with a loud "HUZZAH!" For those puzzled by this cheer, there is recourse available to even those casually interested in a deeper look. The American Heritage Dictionary defines “huzzah” as: 1. A shout of “huzzah.” 2. A cheer; while “hurrah” (variants include "hooraw," “hooray,” and “hurray”) is defined as 1. A shout of “hurrah.” 2. Excitement; fanfare. Etymologically speaking, “huzzah” supposedly derived from a 17th century sailor’s cheer, an adulteration of the Middle English “hisse” which meant “heave!” Clearly there is indeed an early basis for the use of the word "huzzah."
But there is more...
At least two songs from the Eighteenth Century incorporate the word "hurrah." One, familiar to many readers, is the pre-Revolutionary War tune “The British Grenadier”:
And when the siege is over,
We to the town repair
The townsmen cry, "Hurrah, boys,
Here comes a Grenadier!"The other, less familiar tune was a variation on "The British Grenadier" entitled "Free Americay." One verse concluded:
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
For Free Americay!Noah Webster's American Dictionary of the English Language (1828) defined "huzzah" (or its 1828 spelling "huzza") as follows:
HUZZ`A, n. A shout of joy; a foreign word used in writing only, and most preposterously, as it is never used in practice. The word used in our native word hoora, or hooraw.Webster's definition of "hooraw" (apparently a literal pronounciation of the word) is even more emphatic:
HOORAW', exclam. A shout of joy or exultation. [This is the genuine English word, for which we find in books most absurdly written, huzza, a foreign word never or rarely used.]Webster's desire to create a unique American language lexicon went so far as to debase those words he considered "foreign"-- in this case British! To be sure, "huzzah" in the literary sense remained for a time in literature. Charles Dickens used "huzzah" in Oliver Twist, as did Mark Twain in his Adventures of Tom Sawyer. However, an arguement persists that this was the literary form , and not the spoken or uttered cheer indicated by Webster.
One more clue: we find in the closing verse of of the John Hutchinson’s 1843 musical tribute to Vermont entitled “The Old Granite State”-
Now three cheers altogether should Columbia's people ever
Yankee hearts none can sever in the Old Sister States.
Like our sires before us we will swell the chorus
'Til the Heavens o'er us shall rebound the loud huzzah!
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!CONCLUSION: There is indeed some confusion regarding the usage of "huzzah" verses "hurrah." Some sources compound the issue by the use of both expressions-- "huzzah" and "hurrah!" However, the key is to look at the intention: is the cheer to be spoken, or is the cheer referred to in/as a literary device? If the cheer is to indeed be shouted aloud, it is more probable than not that the form "hurrah" (or variants including “hooraw” and “hurray”) should be used.
The "Corn Boiler."
Common cooking utensils in Jacksonian America--kettles, fry-pans, spiders, and “dutch” ovens-- appear to be well-documented In the tented field however, many of these utensils were too heavy or bulky for easy transportation. The U. S. Army addressed this problem by limiting cooking vessels to mess kettles, in a variety of sizes and capacities. However, even the smallest Army mess kettle was and remains bulky. Moreover, it holds 2 ½ gallons... often too much capacity for today’s historical enthusiasts desiring to sample 1830s living.
Enter a piece of equipage that almost seems ubiquitous for today’s “in the field” historical impressions—a small copper vessel generally known as a “corn boiler.” Just WHY this item is called a "corn boiler" is apparently an unexplained enigma.
Many vendors of reproduction goods carry this item. The catalog of Jas. Townsend & Son provides a typical description for what they call the “Copper Boiler with Lid”:
Also called a corn boiler, this is an excellent piece which is handcrafted of sheet copper and tinned on the inside for complete food safety. Each component of this boiler has been researched and it utilizes all 18th century techniques. This little pot is very sturdy and will give you years of camp use. About 4-1/2" diameter, 5" tall. Holds about 1 quart.There’s just one problem. The “copper boiler” or “corn boiler” as offered by Townsend and many other vendors is an anachronism. It never existed as an historical piece.
Peter Goebel of Goosebay Workshops, one of the finest makers of museum quality replica metal goods, also carries a “corn boiler.” Mr. Goebel is more forthcoming with his explanation:
Historically inspired. Although this pot is not documented, it was created in response to our customers who wanted a pot similar to the hinged lid American Civil War boiler but more correct for the 18th century. Each element of our corn boiler has been researched and is a documented 18th style. We combined these elements to create a very versatile pot.Mr. Goebel and some vendors like Jim Jacobs of Blue Heron Mercantile carry a cooking pot that is historically documented and provable: the brass trade kettle. An example of such a trade kettle is displayed in the Wisconsin Historical Society museum and is ascribed to Pierre Pauquette, fur trader, translator, and guide for General Henry and Colonel Dodge in the days leading up to the battle of Wisconsin Heights. It is tempting to imagine Pauquette using this kettle in the evenings to cook his food after a day of following the trail of Black Hawk’s band. (Whether he actually used this pot in the summer of 1832 is unknown.)
CONCLUSION: The copper cooking utensil known popularly known as the “corn boiler” never existed as an historic item. It is a purely modern invention, and has no place in historical interpretation. (It remains an open question as to who bears the responsibility for the presence of a cooking vessel that never existed: former American Civil War types who switched hobbies, then couldn’t live within the means and availability of the selected time period; or makers and vendors who sensed a business opportunity and foisted an anachronistic item on unsuspecting or uncaring hobbyists.)
Jim Thorpe, the "All American" world-class athlete, was Black Hawk's grandson.
The History Channel program entitled "Black Hawk's War" ends with a great flourish-- tracing Black Hawk's lineage though his son Whirling Thunder, and on to a grandson christened James Francis Thorpe. Indeed, the very Jim Thorpe who won Olympic medals, was proclaimed the greatest athlete in the world by the King of Sweden, and in the United States was christened the "All American." The History Channel program renewed interest in the "Black Hawk-Jim Thorpe" connection; audiences and historical enthusiasts have buzzed about the dramatic irony of this story ever since!
Other entities have picked up the thread of this story. Northern Illinois University reports the Black Hawk-Jim Thorpe lineage on its website. So do several websites devoted to the great athlete, and some more (and less) reputable sites that report Black Hawk's biography. Interestingly, the "official" Jim Thorpe website sponsored by Thorpe's estate makes not such connection.
Person interested in tracing Jim Thorpe's lineage to Black Hawk often find tantilizing clues. For example, the Encyclopedia of North American Indians states:
James Francis Thorpe (Wa Tha Huck, Bright Path) was born on May 22, 1887, in Keokuk Falls, south of what is now Prague, Oklahoma, on the Sauk and Fox Indian Reservation. He and his twin brother, Charlie, were baptized on November 17, 1887, at Sacred Heart Catholic Church, in what is now Konawa, Oklahoma, their mother's home.Jim was one of eleven children born to Hiram P. Thorpe, a man of mixed Sauk and Fox and Irish ancestry; and Charlotte Vieux, of mixed Potawatomi, Kickapoo, Menominee, and French ancestry, the great-granddaughter of Jacques Vieux, a French fur trader. Jim's father was a horse breeder and trainer and occasional bootlegger. Life was a struggle for the family, and only five of the eleven children grew to adulthood. Jim used to run down the horses on their ranch on the banks of the North Canadian River, an activity that developed his strength and stamina, and helped him hone the athletic skills that would later make him famous.
Apparently not.
Ms. Sue Hartwick, director of the Hoard Museum and Dairy Shrine in Fort Atkinson Wisconsin recently attempted to clear up the matter of Jim Thorpe's ancestry by contacting the Thorpe family. Ms. Hartwick reported that contacts with Jim Thorpe's now elderly granddaughter and other direct family decendants all revealed the same stunning conclusion: while Jim Thorpe was indeed of Sauk Indian heritage, he was not Black Hawk's grandson, or great-grandson. In fact, each family member confirmed that, while they had heard the stories claiming that Thorpe was descendant from Black Hawk, he in fact was not. He was a member of the Sauk tribe then living in Oklahoma.
CONCLUSION: The story that Jim Thorpe, the "All American" althlete of the 1920s was the grandson of the famed Sauk warrior Black Hawk is at once interesting and compelling. In fact it is so compelling that it must be true! Unfortunately, there appears to be no basis in fact for the claim.
George Catlin Meets the Comanche.
One of our alert Society members, Nick Hoffman, ran across an interesting passage in a recent publication from the Smithsonian Institute. The book is the work of authors Brian W. Dippie, Therese Thau Heyman, Christopher Mulvey, and Joan Carpenter Troccoli and is entitled: George Catlin and His Indian Gallery. (Smithsonian American Art Museum: W.W. Norton & Company, 2002.) The particular passage deals with the painting "Comanche Meet the Dragoons," crafted by famed Western artist George Catlin. The artist accompanied the First Regiment of U. S. Dragoons on what became known as the "Leavenworth-Dodge Expedition" during the Summer of 1834. The painting, seen here, documented the first meeting between the American military and the Comanche Indians of now-southwestern Oklahoma and northern Texas.
The passage on p. 187 that caught Nick's eye read:
In 1834 the Comanche range was centered in northern Texas, an area nominally controlled by Mexico, but only tenuously, since the Comanche attacks on ranches and travelers on the Santa Fe Trail had effectively choked off expansion from the south. Knowing the Comanche's reputation as warriors, the Dragoons-- and Catlin, who placed himself prominently in this picture-- were relieved when the Indians responded to the troops' white flag with a buffalo skin presented by a spirited horseman, Little Spaniard.
Catlin himself described the scene in "Letter No. 41," later published in a two volume work entitled Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Conditions of the North American Indians:
Col. Dodge ordered the command to halt, while he rode forward with a few of his staff, and an ensign carrying a white flag. I joined this advance, and the Indians stood their ground until we had come within half a mile of them, and could distinctly observe all their numbers and movements. We then came to a halt, and the white flag was sent a little in advance, and waved as a signal for them to approach; at which one of their party galloped out in advance of the war-party, on a milk white horse, carrying a piece of white buffalo skin on the point of his long lance in reply to our flag.This moment was the commencement of one of the most thrilling and beautiful scenes I ever witnessed. All eyes, both from his own party and ours, were fixed upon the manoeuvres of this gallant little fellow, and he well knew it.
The distance between the two parties was perhaps half a mile, and that a beautiful and gently sloping prairie; over which he was for the space of a quarter of an hour, reining and spurring his maddened horse, and gradually approaching us by tacking to the right and the left, like a vessel beating against the wind. He at length came prancing and leaping along till he met the flag of the regiment, when he leaned his spear for a moment against it, looking the bearer full in the face, when he wheeled his horse, and dashed up to Col. Dodge with his extended hand, which was instantly grasped and shaken. We all had him by the hand in a moment, and the rest of the party seeing him received in this friendly manner, instead of being sacrificed, as they undoubtedly expected, started under ‘full whip’ in a direct line toward us.
Catlin's description is clear. It was Colonel Henry Dodge-- former Colonel of the Iowa County (Michigan Territory) Militia in Black Hawk's War, former Major of the Regiment of Mounted Rangers in 1833, and in 1834 Colonel of the First Regiment of Dragoons-- who went forward with his officers to meet the Comanche. Catlin certainly states he accompanied the detachment, but the artist does not indicate a role for himself that would have necessitated inserting himself so prominantly in a painting that commemorated "one of the most thrilling and beautiful scenes [Catlin] ever witnessed." Neither does it make sense that Catlin would have inserted himself in the artwork closest to the figure of Little Spaniard. 
That position, the right of the line of the detachment, was traditionally reserved for the person of highest rank or importance. Clearly, the commander or ranking person in the detachment would be expected to occupy this spot.
In addition, Catlin produced the oft-published 1834 portrait of Dodge, which showed the Dragoon commander full-length, standing with his rifle, pistols, and straight sword. This image (seen to the left) compares favorably with the mounted, buckskin-wearing figure in the 1834 "Dragoons Meeting the Comanche," down to the rifle tucked under the right arm of the figure.
CONCLUSION: Absent other information, the figure clad in the buckskin hunting frock, with the rifle tucked under his right arm, is almost certainly Colonel Henry Dodge, commander of the 1st Regiment of U. S. Dragoons.
The "Fort Meigs Belt Axe."
Many vendors carry this neat little item, often with the descriptor that it is copied from an axe “found at Fort Meigs.” One such description reads: “is a copy of an early hunter's belt axe found at the site of Fort Meigs.”
Other descriptive discussions indicate that the axe was issued to American soldiers during the War of 1812 (perhaps an extrapolation of the Fort Meigs association.) Many woodsrunning and War of 1812 reenactors carry this axe based on these descriptions. Their comments generally note that while the axe is lightweight and very portable, it is simply too light for anything other than very modest chopping chores. Practically no one has questioned its provenance.
There’s just one problem. Fort Meigs State Memorial at Perrysville, Ohio reports it has no artifact like the “Fort Meigs Belt Axe” in its collection!
Retired Illinois State Blacksmith James Patton first brought to my attention the lack or artifact or other provenancial association with Fort Meigs. Other investigators have weighed in to confirm this assertion. Researcher Randy Wolfe wrote: “There is an ‘original,’ was found on the Maumee not actually at Ft M, currently owned by Jim Johnson. Ft Meigs does have, in its collection, an axe (full sized not belt) that is a scaled up version of the 'Meigs Axe'. After years of research, I haven’t found any other originals that match the shape and weight of the so-called "Ft Meigs Axe".
If there is no provenance for this hatchet as being from Fort Meigs, what exactly IS this tool?
One answer may be found in the late Dr. Carl Russell’s Firearms, Traps, and Tools of the Mountain Men. On pages 264-5, Dr. Russell described the tool as a “Kentucky” model ax “with a fourteen inch handle; the blade is about 5 inches long, with a cutting edge of 1 7/8 inches.” He noted that while original specimens are rare, one documented example was attributed to General Samuel Hopkins, circa “late eighteenth century,” in the collection of the Audubon Museum, Henderson, Kentucky. The line illustration of General Hopkins’ axe very strongly favors the so-called “Fort Meigs belt axe” found in reenacting supplier's catalogs.
Dr. Russell continued: “The Kentucky Model… continued in favor all through the fur trade days…” He recorded several merchants--including the fur-trading post at present-day Milwaukee, Wisconsin-- that either purchased or looked to purchase such Kentucky or “Yankee” axes from the post-Revolutionary war days through 1845.
CONCLUSION: The “Fort Meigs belt axe” has been incorrectly named because of association with "artifacts" at the historic site of the same name, which reportedly do not exist. According to Dr. Russell, the tool should properly be termed the “Kentucky axe” or the "Kentucky belt axe.”
"Fire in the hole!"
Ah yes. A perennial favorite heard periodically at some historical events and many gatherngs generally known as "rendezvous." The phrase generally precedes the disharge of a pistol, rifle, or cannon-- usually as part of a so-called "black powder firing demonstration." Ostensibly, the phrase is used as a warning to nearby event participants that a weapon is about to be discharged. In queries I have made at such events, such a warning is an important "safety feature." Further, it allows nearby participants to "brace" themselves or otherwise prepare for the discharge.
The "startle factor" aside, what evidence is there of the use of "fire in the hole" in the 1830s?
A literature search of available dictionaries, recollections, and records yielded no such phrase. For example, John Russell Bartlett's 1848 Dictionary of Americanisms indicated entries only for TO FIRE; TO HAVE ONE'S FAT IN THE FIRE; TO FIRE AWAY; TO FIRE INTO THE WRONG FLOCK (a metaphorical); and FIRE-NEW (the last two phrases used by Congressman David Crockett in his autobiography.)
One website, which offers a glossary of terms preceded by Samuel Parker's pronouncement on mountain man idioms from the 1835 rendezvous, does not include the term "fire in the hole." While this "glossary" appears to be a compilation of phrases, idioms, and words compiled from multiple sources, the compiler listed no citiations or sources.
If the available literature suggests that "fire in the hole" is not a period term, where did the phrase come from, and why it it in use in modern historical "reenactments?"
Popular etymology derives the phrase from the mining and railroad tunnel blasting days of late nineteenth-century America. Certainly, the phrase was known and used at least by the time of World War II, and certainly Korea and Vietnam, where the phrase was used in conjuction with the detonation of explosive charges. One popular, well-known use of this phrase was in the movie "Saving Private Ryan," when the Rangers were about to detonate a Bangalore torpedo while on the beach at Normandy.
At historical recreation or "rendezvous" events, many of whom bill the event offerings as "historically accurate" or a "step back into history," anecdotal evidence indicated that the phrase "fire in the hole" is an admitted anachronism, but is necessary for purposes of "safety." When questioned further, the "safety" issue frankly boiled down to dealing with adjacent reenactor's "startle factor" when weapons are discharged during a demonstration. When asked about whether or not the gunpowder charges used at these events were appropriate for the weapons used, the answers ranged so broadly as to be inconclusive. (To this author's thinking and experience, overcharged weapons present far more of a hazard than anything arising from the "startle factor.") Another unanswered question was that of participant expectation: are not multiple firings of so-called "black powder weapons" standard fare at such events?
CONCLUSION: The use of the phrase "fire in the hole" is unsupported by any of the consulted literature prior to the American Civil War. It has no place at events or demonstrations billed as "authentic" or "historically accurate." Safety issues are very important at such events, but "safety" demands (both real and imagined) need not trump historical accuracy. If the purpose is to reduce the "startle factor," shouting the word "Firing" or other similar word or phrase should provide ample "warning," while preserving the historic flavor of the event.
