Nearby History

There’s nothing like a few days of spectacular weather to encourage two Ph.D. students to get out of the house. Last Saturday, my partner Tyler and I ventured to Havre de Grace, Maryland, to investigate the town and its museums. We found a great used book store just a few steps away from the town’s oldest extant building.

Rogers House, 1788, Havre de Grace, MD
The Rogers House, built around 1788, survived the British burning of the town in 1813

We also learned that this circa 1900 Shad Shack’s preservation depends on the public’s beneficence.

Circa 1900 Shad Shack, Havre de Grave Maritime Museum
Circa 1900 Shad Shack, oldest known surviving example from the Upper Chesapeake Bay

Its interior is intact, too. As I have written elsewhere, I am entranced by the interpretive value workspace “period rooms” hold for us.

Shad Shack Interior

On the way back to Newark, we spontaneously followed a sign for “historic” Elk Landing. Little else along busy route 40 indicated its presence just a stone’s throw down the road save this liquor store featuring a Revolutionary War soldier graphic.

Elk Landing Liquor Store from Route 40 going West
Elk Landing Liquor Store from Route 40 going West – Always nice to see local businesses giving a nod to history

After we turned at the intersection and drove past a few homes and a prison, we encountered Elk Landing.

Historic Elk Landing
Historic Elk Landing

Elk Landing’s national historical significance lies in that General Howe’s troops supposedly navigated up to this site from farther the Chesapeake Bay during the Revolutionary War. From there, the British went on to the Philadelphia Campaign through northeastern Maryland, northern Delaware, and southeastern Pennsylvania. This movement culminated in the British defeat of the Americans in the battle of the Brandywine.

Today, in addition to the landscape itself, a circa 1800 home and a circa 1780 stone building on the Elk River constitute “Historic” Elk Landing.Hollingsworth House

The town of Elkton owns the site, and the group that cares for the property hosts occasional gatherings at the larger of the two buildings. The stone building, though not in use, has been thoughtfully boarded up. Perhaps the current keepers of the Kux Alrich House could get some inspiration from this type of preservation.

Eighteenth-Century Stone House at Elk Landing

We found a few signs indicating the yet-to-be-fulfilled intention to develop a “living history museum,” complete with a blacksmith shop and a cooperage.

Will a donor step forward to fund the cooperage?
Will a donor step forward to fund the cooperage?

At first, I thought this was an unfortunate failure. But I realized that the group smartly decided not to go ahead with each of these projects until they had funding for them. For now, the buildings and the landscape are preserved, well-kept, and accessible to history nerds like us (and a giant turkey vulture.)

This visit to Elk Landing capped off the end of an enjoyable day.  By the following afternoon, I was eager to visit the site where Howe’s troops first landed in Maryland, before they marched up to Elk Landing.

So as the afternoon started to wane, Tyler and I went off to find Elk Ferry, known as Oldfield’s Point in the 1770s.

Oldfield's Point, Maryland

Turns out our friends at Google have also labeled the point on its map, but, frustratingly, someone had marked the road to the point as private. Soldiering on, we cruised by some homes along the shore just north and east of Oldfield’s Point, and we could, in fact, see water from the car. Still unsatisfied, we Googled some more and came across a historical marker that commemorates the overlook of Howe’s landing.

Overlook General Howe Landing Map
Overlook of General Howe’s Landing, marked on a map

At first, I was bummed that we couldn’t get to Oldfield’s Point. I had wanted to be where Howe and his troops at landed. But we deemed the overlook

Overlook of General Howe's Landing
Overlook of General Howe’s Landing

…which was in front of a church outdoor amphitheater that also overlooked the Bay was quite charming in and of itself. And if we had been able to drive down Oldfield Point Circle, we might not have bothered to find the overlook. According to Battle of Cooch’s Bridge (1940), “the people were numerous and well-dressed” when they watched Howe and his men make their way onto the shore from this spot. I find it fascinating that, historically, civilians turned out to take in military maneuvers and battles. We generally avoid doing that today, if only because we would be in comparatively more danger given the increased power and precision of modern weaponry.

Hart's United Methodist Church Amphitheater, overlooking where Howe landed  in 1777 at Oldfield's Point
Hart’s United Methodist Church Amphitheater, overlooking where Howe landed in 1777 at Oldfield’s Point

We had assumed we would have to drive to the end of Elk Neck just to the west to get to or see the landing site. Thanks to the overlook, that wasn’t the case. Even though we made it there and spied Oldfield’s Point, we decided to venture to the end of the peninsula, anyway, to see what the State Park there had to offer. After making a short trek down a path along the water, in the shadow of an early nineteneth-century lighthouse, we took in a magnificent view of the Chesapeake Bay.

IMG_4503

We thought day two’s hunt would provide us with an  hour-long distraction. Instead, we found several “new to us” historic sites nearby that, at first, eluded our abilities to make good use of our reference books and maps. If Google or other powers that be had marked these local historical sites on Google Maps (as we initially wished they had), we would have spent far too few hours exploring our nearby history.

A New Blog

Krimmel, Woman pressing and folding laundry, Downs Collection
John Lewis Krimmel, “Woman pressing and folding laundry,” 1819-1820, Winterthur Downs Collection of Manuscripts and Printed Ephemera, 59×5.5

I have been blogging about antiques and material culture since 2010, about a year after I graduated from the Winterthur Program in American Material Culture. I’ve found that blogging is a fun way to reflect on my adventures at flea markets and antique malls while providing readers–most of whom seem to come from the general public, though I have been cited in a published book about Italian interiors(!)–with an accessible scholarly perspective on what I observe and buy. My readers seem to dig it too. I’ve received emails from collectors asking me for my expertise on Berlin work, and I’ve received notes from people researching their ancestors who owned some of the objects I have acquired.

In addition to writing about antiquing, I have also written guest blog posts for the History of American Civilization Blog (my Ph.D. program’s blog), the University of Delaware Museum Studies blog, and the Disability and Industrial Society Blog on a variety of subjects raining from giving mini “TED” talks to cataloguing the contents of a “period room” decoy shop to how collecting disability history artifacts has advanced my research. Through these pieces, I have connected with the disability history field in Great Britain, for instance, a group of scholars from whom I have learned a lot.

I want to continue to pursue this line of blogging. So this new blog, housed on my academic website or e-portfolio, is meant to provide me with a more regular outlet for publishing my thoughts on the field (history) and what I do (teach, research, write, present, and visit museums and other culture heritage sites). I’ll still maintain the antiquing blog, of course. I simply didn’t want to clutter it with topics too far afield from Revolutionary War battle relics and why I didn’t buy a giant papier-mâché boar. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to suggest that antiquing is tangental to my scholarly work. In fact, it’s a fundamental part of how I learn about the material world I study.

So all that aside, I’d like to introduce myself to you via a John Lewis Krimmel sketch of a woman attending to her laundry around 1820. Kathleen Brown included it in her recent book Foul Bodies. There, she discusses the concept of “body work” as a central theme in eighteenth and early nineteenth-century American culture. I agree that the image, focusing on the labor involved in cleaning textiles the body used, very much reflects this idea. It also reminds me a bit of my own workflow – something going on in every corner, all the time. I look forward to sharing some of that with you.

Further Reading

John Lewis Krimmel’s sketches and drawings at Winterthur are digitized here.

You can also read more about his work in Anneliese Harding’s John Lewis Krimmel: Genre Artist of the Early Republic (1994).

If you are interested in the history of the body, cleanliness, and illness in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century America, check out Kathleen M. Brown’s Foul Bodies: Cleanliness in Early America (2009).