Ghosts and Demons in Japanese Prints

I’ve been itching to revisit the Chicago Art Institute, and over Thanksgiving I got my wish. This time we were able to tour the entire museum, including a special exhibit on ghosts and demons in 19th century Japanese prints.

One of the most ingenious pieces on display depicted a scene from a kabuki performance. As you can see, the center figure is pouncing upon a hapless damsel, having transformed from a maiden to a ghoul. This required a rapid costume change from the actor, which we can observe by turning a flap on the print. Kind of like a children’s book.

Turn to the right, and it’s a woman.

To the left, and it’s a ghoul.

The second print was far more frightening. In it we see a ghost made of ceramic plates, rising into the coal-black sky bent on haunting her murderous husband. According to legend, he slew her for breaking the dishes, but in death she found power that she never had in life.

Hide your eyes, because this next print is even spookier. This time a ghoul is in the bedroom, peeking through the mosquito netting at the treacherous couple who drowned him. Aren’t the colors incredible? And look at those tendrils by the ghost’s skull. They remind me of seaweed, perhaps alluding to his watery grave.

Alright everyone, calm yourselves. Warai Hannya, pictured below, is our last demon. She was known for preying upon children and even clutches a head in the print. Nice lady, right?

Now that you’ve been thoroughly spooked by the bad guys, it’s time I introduced you to a hero. Meet Shōki the Demon Queller. In the print below you can see him astride a slavering tiger, mincing goblins to chutney with a wicked-blue sword. Pictures like this were displayed for the Boys’ Day festival, and Shōki banners were used as a safeguard against disease. I guess that sword kills bacteria as well as demons.

What did you think of the prints? Do you have a favorite? Or are they too grotesque for that?

How To Make An Authentic Chiton

The other day whilst perusing the Internet, I came upon a set of instructions for making a chiton, or Greek tunic. It’s surprisingly simple, and best of all no sewing is required. All you need is a white sheet, five safety pins, a belt, and a friend to model it for you. The latter was supplied by one of my buddies, who we’ll just call Mymy.

STEP ONE - Fold the sheet lengthwise until it’s as long as you want the chiton to be. Traditionally it was worn to the ankle, but Mymy and I decided to be scandalous and made ours shorter.

STEP TWO - Grasp one side of the sheet and hold it in front of your body. Note that I said side, not corner. You want to grab the cloth a few inches behind that. See how Mymy holds it?

STEP THREE - Wind the other half around your back.

STEP FOUR - Pin the two top corners together. If you don’t have a pin, hairbands will suffice.

STEP FIVE - Take the piece of material held in your right hand and attach it to the corresponding cloth behind your back. Greek women used brooches, but again, pins or hair ties will suffice. Once this step is completed, you will have created the first sleeve. Slip your arm through.

STEP SIX - Repeat Step Five using the material in your left hand.

STEP SEVEN - Next pin the slit on your left together. Tie a belt around the middle, strike a pose, and you’re done. Congratulations!

If you decide to give the chiton a try, let me know how it went in the comments. I’d be happy to answer any questions.

The Leper King

Tutor discovers Baldwin's leprosy

In 1170, Prince Baldwin’s tutor noticed something strange about him. He felt no pain while roughhousing with the other boys, even when they dug their fingernails into his arm. Soon it became apparent that the young prince had contracted leprosy. He was only nine years old.

Tragedy struck again in 1174. The king was dead, and the only possible successor was Baldwin, who was by this time in his early teens. Managing an Empire is a major undertaking, even for an adult, but Baldwin had neither experience nor health on his side. Right from the beginning, his reign appeared to be doomed.

And yet despite the odds, Baldwin clung to the throne. He lived under the guidance of regents until the age of fifteen, then assumed full control of Jerusalem. By this time he was noticeably sick with leprosy. The last thing he needed was a kingdom to worry about, but once again Baldwin did not shirk from leadership.

One of his first decisions was to attack the Muslim king, Saladin, who had been plundering Syrian village of Aleppo. If Syria fell, Jerusalem would soon follow. It was a brittle situation requiring uncommon wisdom. One wrong move could result in the death of thousands, but Baldwin proved to be an excellent strategist. First he struck Damascus, putting Saladin on the defensive, then forged an alliance with the Byzantine Empire and prepared to attack Egypt. Unfortunately an important member of the raid died, Baldwin’s own health began to wane, and the invasion was canceled.

About this time several nobles stripped their support from Jerusalem, leaving the city only 600 knights and a few thousand infantrymen to face Saladin’s army. With the enemy just 45 miles away, the time had come for Baldwin to make a final stand. He rose from his sickbed, mounted his horse and stood in the path of Saladin’s force.

A contemporary author wrote that Baldwin appeared “already half dead.” The rest of the army wasn’t much better. The sight of the teeming Muslim soldiers drove knives into their hearts. Perhaps sensing this, Baldwin called for the Bishop of Bethlehem to present the relic of the One True Cross. The king prostrated himself before it, prayed earnestly for victory, and encouraged the troops to hold fast.

After that, the Leper King led the charge. He raised a sword with one bandaged hand, striking down the enemy wherever they dared appear. The people said Saint George road beside him, and under Baldwin’s leadership the crusaders not only defended Jerusalem but utterly trounced the invaders. Almost ninety percent were killed. Saladin himself barely escaped.

Baldwin returned home victorious, but his troubles weren’t over yet. Illness plagued the Leper King all of his life, rendering his arms, legs and vision useless. Several times he tried to abdicate, but was unable to find a suitable replacement. He died of sickness on May 6, 1185, and without his guidance Jerusalem fell to Saladin two years later.

Egypt - Land of the Crazy Cat Ladies

My baby and despot,  Cinnamon.

“Mommy wuvs her baby. Yes her does! Yes her does! Mommy wuvs her baby more den wife itself. Mommy would do anyfing for her baby...”

I talk like this to my cat sometimes. Pretty stupid, right? Well, at least I’m not the first to descend to this level. The Egyptians were crazy cat ladies too, although they took it to a much greater extreme.

In 450 BCE, the penalty for killing a cat was death. Exporting them out of Egypt was strictly forbidden, and an entire government agency was developed to repatriate kidnapped kitties to their home country. When a house caught fire people would rush inside to rescue their pets, but when this was unsuccessful the bodies were embalmed and buried with great honor in special burial grounds. Over 80,000 cats were found in a Beni-Hassan tomb, along with supplies for the afterlife such as mice and milk.

Unfortunately, Cambyses of Persia took advantage of this devotion during the Battle of Pelusium.

It began like any other war. The two armies marched out to meet each other, spears bristling, armor rattling--but then the Egyptians noticed something strange on the Persians’ shields. They were covered with paintings of Bastet, the cat goddess. Sacrilege!

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Cambyses ordered hundreds of sacred animals, including cats, to be driven before his army. The Egyptians were horrified. They couldn’t fight back without hurting one of their beloved companions. Ultimately this led to the destruction of Pharaoh’s army, and Persia emerged victorious. According to legend, Cambyses hurled cats at the Egyptians during his parade through the city, mocking their shameful defeat.

Isn’t that ridiculous? Why would somebody sacrifice their freedom for a cat? I would never--oh wait. You’ll have to excuse me. Cinnamon wants me to rub him. And after this I’ll have to scrape out his litter box, pick fur off my clothes, bandage my scratched hands, refresh his cat chow…

Do any of you guys have cats?

Mummified cats.

I Wish

Adolph Hitler as a child.

While Adolph Hitler wasn’t solely responsible for World War II, I think we can all agree that he was one of the instigators. Think of him as a match and Germany as a gasoline puddle. While something probably would have sparked conflict eventually, without Hitler it might not have been as devastating. The Allies realized this and took every opportunity to shoot at him.

None of the assassins were successful, and ironically Hitler’s closest encounters with death happened by chance. Both times he survived--but only because bystanders went out of their way to rescue him.

Hitler’s life was first threatened when he was a child. One day, while playing on the banks of the River Inn, he tumbled into the water and was swept off by the current. Fortunately--or unfortunately, depending upon your perspective--another boy named Johann Kuehburger dove after him. He dragged Hitler ashore, saving one life and unwittingly dooming eleven million others.*

Several years after the river incident, Hitler once again brushed shoulders with death. This time it happened during one of World War I’s final battles, in which he made the mistake of crossing into a British soldier’s line of fire. They locked eyes for a moment. But when the Englishman saw that Hitler wounded, he allowed him to flee.

My brother was incredulous when I told him these stories. “We came so close! Why couldn’t we have killed Hitler when we had the chance?”

That was my reaction too. Millions of lives might have been saved if Kuehburger hadn’t rescued him, or the Englishman had pulled the trigger. But then I realized what we were wishing for. We were wishing that Kuehburger let a little boy drown. We were wishing that the soldier committed murder. At the time, Hitler was guiltless. It would have been unjust to hurt him.

Still. I wish.

*It should be noted that the evidence supporting this particular story is ambiguous, based mostly upon the word of Kuehburger’s friend and some vague newspaper clippings.

Three Unsolved Historical Mysteries

An engraving showing victims of the Dancing plague

#1 - Dancing Plague

During July of 1518, dozens of people in the French city of Strasburg were seized with disco fever and literally danced themselves to death. It began with one woman, Frau Troffea. One day, as she was walking down the street, she started convulsing in time with an unheard beat. Several neighbors joined her, and by the end of the week 30 people were cavorting around Strasburg like some sort of medieval flash mob. Victims reportedly danced nonstop for nearly six days before dying of strokes, heart attacks, and exhaustion.

Nearly five-hundred years later, scholars are still trying to uncover the cause of the Dancing Plague. Somebody suggested that the victims were suffering from stress-induced psychosis, but that doesn’t quite cut it for me. Mental illness isn’t contagious, and the Dancing Plague seems to be, judging by the way it spread from Troffea to her neighbors. Another theory blames erot fungus, the organic version of LSD. But again, that’s not contagious. And erot fungus is more likely to kill you than give you happy feet.

Personally, I think Strasburg was infected with Jitterbugs.

#2 - Lost Colony of Roanoke

In August, 1587, over a hundred men, women and children established a colony on Roanoke Island, just off the coast of North Carolina. At first everything went according to plan. Houses were built, crops were planted, and the settlers celebrated the birth of the first English child to be born in the New World.

Unfortunately, supplies ran low after a few months. The governor was sent back to England for more, but war broke out while he was there, and delayed his return for three years.

When he finally reached Roanoke, the rest of the settlers had disappeared. To this day, nobody knows what became of them. The only clue to their fate was the word “CROATOAN” carved on an old fencepost.

“CROATOAN” is an aggravatingly ambiguous phrase. It could refer to the local Croatoan Island, to which the colonists may have relocated, or to the Croatoan Indians, who may have attacked them or let them join the tribe. Testing has been conducted to see if modern Native Americans carry English DNA, but so far the results have been inconclusive.

Kaspar Hauser

#3 - Kaspar Hauser

One day in May, 1828, a shoemaker named Georg Weickmann noticed a strange boy tottering around Nuremburg as though drunk. He wore peasant clothes and carried a letter addressed to the local calvary captain. Weickmann decided to play the Good Samaritan and showed him to the officer’s house.

After awhile it became apparent that the boy wasn’t drunk. He was simply in awe of his surroundings and still learning to walk. His feet were blistered, as though unaccustomed to shoes, and when the captain’s servants offered him food, he spat it out in surprise. Naturally Weikmann and the captain questioned him, but all the boy knew how to say was “I don’t know” and “I want to be a rider the way my father was.”

Nobody knew what to do, so they called the police and locked him in the Vetsner Gate tower. While there, he gradually learned more German, and revealed his strange story to one of the jailers.

The boy said his name was Kaspar Hauser. He claimed to have spent all of his life in a dark cell, with no human contact except for a mysterious cloaked figure who left food on occasion. A tall tale, perhaps, but circumstances backed his story. For instance, Kaspar had an abnormality in his knees, suggesting that he hadn’t been able to stand up straight, and his behavior was incredibly childlike.

Kaspar said he had only recently left his cell. Apparently the cloaked figure decided to release him. He taught the boy how to walk and speak, then shoved a letter into his hand and sent him on the road to Nuremburg with strict instruction to join the calvary.

As you might expect, Kaspar’s story turned a lot of heads. Visitors mobbed the tower to stare at him, and there were whispers that he might be royalty--perhaps even the rightful prince of Baden. All of this attention overwhelmed Hauser, and it was agreed that he should be placed under the guardianship of a college professor.

To complicate things even further, the cloaked figure made a reappearance, perhaps angry that Kaspar had not joined the calvary. While the professor was gone, he cornered the boy and tried to assassinate him, but Hauser escaped with only a slight wound.

After this he was tossed back and forth between several more guardians, the figure tried to kill him again but was unsuccessful, and the public became more critical of Kaspar’s account. Some called him a liar. After all, there were gaping holes in his story. For example, Hauser claimed to have been fed exclusively bread and water during his confinement. Nutritionally speaking, that’s impossible. He would have starved years ago. Could it be that this was just a ploy for attention?

Unfortunately, Kaspar died before more conclusive evidence could be discovered. On December 14th, he stumbled into the house with a chest wound which he claimed was from the cloaked figure. Nobody took him seriously enough to call a doctor, and he died just a few days later.

Visit to the Chicago Art Institute

((Disclaimer: I’m writing most of this from memory. Unlike the rest of my articles on this blog, I can’t vouch for the content’s complete accuracy.))

Last week I met the Greeks, Romans, Byzantines and Etruscans at the Chicago Art Institute. The experience was transcendent; I teared up when I saw the Athenian vases. Some long-dead artist touched those pots. I could have touched them too if I’d had a hammer for the display case.

My favorite pieces were two Fayum portraits, shown below. Since nobody knows the names of the subjects, I decided to call the cheerful man Jerry. The other is his surly friend, Damien.

Jerry

Damien

Fayum portraits are essentially mummy masks, although prior to the subject’s death they were kept on display in the house. These two hail from Roman Egypt sometime in the second century. The gold laurels you see around Jerry’s head were added after he died--one last way to flaunt his wealth. I think Damien’s jealous.

Here’s another one of my favorite exhibits: the Greek Eye-Cup.

When used as a drinking vessel, the bottom of the bowl creates a mask, complete with an open mouth and handles for ears. It is thought that Eye-Cups were related to related to Dionysus somehow, seeing as he’s the god of wine and theatre.

Another Greek exhibit included gravestones, known as steles. Usually sculptures aren’t my thing, but the emotion captured in these figures was enough to stir the most jaded heart. Take the picture below for example, in which you can see a couple clasping hands. Maybe they didn’t want to let go. Or perhaps the family wanted to show that they were still linked to their loved one. Whatever the case, it made the Greeks much more relatable.

And maybe that’s what I loved about the Art Institute. Maybe that’s what I love about history. It reveals what makes us human. Two-thousand years ago, a woman became a widow. Two-thousand years ago, fathers drank from the Eye-Cup while their children pointed and laughed. We like to think we're more advanced in the twenty-first century, but we haven't changed much. I don't think we ever will.

Rome VS Marines!

Imagine this: you’re a US Marine trudging through Afghanistan. Suddenly there’s a flash of light and poof! Your entire unit has been transported back in time to the reign of Augustus. For some reason you are seized with the urge to conquer the Empire. Although the Doctor always said never to tamper with fixed points in time...

Believe it or not, this situation was the source of great debate a few years back. Somebody on Reddit asked if a single MEU would be able to subjugate the entire Empire, and it went viral in minutes.

An MEU is about 2200 troops, plus artillery and vehicles. They poof onto the banks of the Tiber, not too far from the capital of Rome, but are unable to restock on supplies from the modern world. Once they run out of bullets, they can’t get any more. Making their own would be impossible without the proper equipment. And then you’ve got to think about electricity, batteries and gasoline. While they would dominate for a couple of days, the Romans would gain the upper hand when supplies ran out.

The Empire, however, has the opposite situation. They’ve got plenty of resources, but their equipment is suddenly antique. Armor wouldn’t hold up against a bullet. In fact, it would distort the bullet’s shape and make the wound worse. The men never would have heard an explosion before, and gunfire would shred the horses.

We should also assess the differences in their fighting tactics. While both groups emphasize aggression, unit cohesion and flexibility, the Romans are accustomed to marching out side-by-side. If the Marines took advantage of this by engaging in guerrilla warfare, the Empire would suffer devastating losses. However, if the MEU didn’t move quick enough, they would be surrounded and forced to surrender.

Personally, I think the Romans would win. As much as I would like to see the American flag fluttering over the Coliseum, the Empire is too big to be overthrown in a day, and Marines are at a serious disadvantage as soon as their supplies run out. But you can disagree if you want. For once I welcome comment debates. Who do you think would win? Rome or the Marines?

After the Rome VS Marines debate went viral, there was
 talk of making a move based on it, entitled "Rome Sweet Rome."

Five Funny Food Origins

Don’t give me that look. I know it’s been two weeks since I blogged. But here I am now, with another list of historical happening for your amusement. Please accept this as my apology.

And now, without further ado, Five Funny Food Origins!

The Earl of Sandwich. And a sandwich.

No. 1 - The Sandwich

In the 1700s, the Fourth Earl of Sandwich gambled for 24 hours straight, so engrossed by the game that he refused to leave the table. Unfortunately, his stomach didn’t share his enthusiasm. It grumbled about having no dinner until the Earl called for something to eat.

The cook brought him a piece of meat between two slices of toasted bread. The new dish was a hit with English aristocracy, retaining the name sandwich in honor of its creator.

It should be noted that variations of the sandwich had existed years prior to the incident. But this is what made it popular, and gave it the name we all know today.

No. 2 - Sirloin

One day in 1617, King James was served a magnificent loin of beef. Oh the juiciness, the meatiness, the gravy-ness! He was so enraptured by the dish that he ordered a couple of pages to bring it before his throne. James drew his short sword and knighted it Sir Loin--a name that meshed over time into sirloin.

Historians are divided on the authenticity of this legend. But whatever the case, I think it’s an interesting story.

No. 3 - Popsicle

In 1905, 11-year-old Frank Epperson let his drink freeze on the patio overnight. The next morning he yanked the block of ice out, gave it a lick, and found it delicious. It was an experience he never forgot. When Frank grew up he acquired a patent and shared the recipe with his children, who called the strange new treat Pop's 'Sicles.

No. 4 - Pretzels

Soft-dough pretzels were invented by a frustrated Italian monk in the 7th century, who hoped to use them as bribes for his catechism students. In fact, the middle pretzel loop is supposed to resemble a child’s arms folded in prayer.

No. 5 - Tea Bags 

Thomas Sullivan created tea bags on accident in 1908 when he distributed samples of his tea in little silk sacks. Some consumers, supposing that the sacks were like metal infusers, dropped them into the water. The result was just as good as traditionally steeped tea, and soon Sullivan was bombarded with orders for this new convenience.

Ancient Greek Cooking - Loukoumades and Figs

Some of the greatest politicians, poets and philosophers hail from Greece. They invented ship-sinking claws, founded the first republic, instituted the art of geometry and... made awesome donuts!

Seriously, though. they are good donuts. I tried the recipe yesterday, and thought I’d share the origins and instructions.

The proper name for the donuts is actually Loukoumades, although the poet Callimachus referred to them as “honey-tokens.” They were served to Olympic champions, and are one of the most ancient recorded deserts. The taste is subtle compared to modern pastries, just a burst of honey and a crunch from the crust. Personally I thought they were hard to prepare--lots of deep-frying was involved, and the dough was pretty gloppy--but the end product is well worth the effort.

These are our failed Loukoumades. They didn't fry all the way through.

These ones came out great. The bowl on the right is gluten free!

Another Greek staple that I decided to try was figs.

Figs have a long and illustrious history reaching all the way back into Biblical times. The Egyptians ate them. The Greeks lived on them. Roman Emperors served them at feasts and now they have reached my plate as well. Actually you don’t need a plate. Figs can be eaten whole. Just pop ‘em in your mouth.

I’m not sure how to describe the taste. It’s sweet. But not incredibly sweet. I guess the closes thing I can compare it to is watermelon, although the texture is quite different. More in line with a grape, I guess.

Well there you have it: my Greek victory feast. I have included a link to the Loukoumades recipe we used at the bottom of the post. If you decide to give it a try, let me know in the comments!

Loukoumades recipe - http://www.ultimate-guide-to-greek-food.com/donuts.html

Nine More Things You Didn't Know About the Church

#1- During the days of the Black Death, an extreme sect of Christians known as the Flagellant Brothers roamed from village to village, dragging crosses and whipping themselves for penance.

#2 - Pope Gregory I decreed that his monks would live communally, sharing all that they had. Sounds great, right? Actually, Gregory took it to an unholy extreme. When he discovered that one of the brothers had hidden three gold coins, he ordered the other monks to ostracize him. Even when the offending man was on his death bed, he was forbidden to have visitors. What was the purpose of this cruelty, you might ask? Gregory hoped that it might make him repent, and thereby save him from eternity in Hell. After the brother died, he was buried in a dung heap to set an example for the other monks.

#3 - According to legend, God gave Saint Christopher a dog head to ward off the unwanted attention of the local ladies.

#4 - The Hand of Saint Theresa was treasured as a relic by the Spanish tyrant, Francisco Franko. He was rarely seen without it, and even slept with the Hand under his pillow.

#4 - Martin Luther had a diet of Worms. Heh. Bad pun, I know.

#5 - December 25th is most likely not Jesus' birthday. Christians chose to celebrate Christmas on that date because it coincided with the established pagan festival of Saturnalia.

#6 - There is some dispute over which disciple reached Jesus' tomb first. John claims that he outran Peter, but Peter says that they arrived at the same time. Sounds like there was some competition going on.

#7 - In the days before the printing press, monks had to create copies of the Bible by hand. They worked under strict silence but--much like modern schoolboys--found ways around the rules by doodling in the margins. One man drew a bunch of monkeys harassing a scribe. Another scribbled a merman getting shot with an arrow. Still others griped about their working conditions: "Oh my hand," "I am very cold," "Writing is excessive drudgery. It crooks your back, it dims your sight, it twists your stomach and your sides."

#8 - The world "cathedral" means "the church that contains the bishop's throne."

#9 - Several Saints--such as Saint Joseph of Cupertino and Saint Martin de Porres--were able to fly and be in two places at once. While it sounds ridiculous at first, bear in mind that God's done stranger things. Remember that talking donkey? In light of that, I actually don't think flying Saints is such a stretch.

Outstanding People in History - Ignaz Semmelweis

19th century medicine was untrustworthy at best. Doctors came at you with leaches instead of a stethoscope, and sickness flitted from person to person with devastating results. Nobody knew where it came from. The effect of bacteria wouldn’t be discovered until the 1870s. Still, doctors endeavored to save their patients with what little information they had.

One of these doctors was Ignaz Semmelweis, who worked in a Hungarian maternity clinic during 1844. At the time, most women preferred to give birth at home. Those who were forced to seek hospitalization faced staggering mortality rates. Childbed fever claimed the lives of 25-30 percent, and worse, nobody understood what caused it. Maybe it was poor ventilation? Or maybe a Death Angel was prowling the clinic. Semmelweis determined to discover the cause and, if possible, prevent it.

One of the first things he did was compare his clinic with another that had a lower mortality rate. Both were overcrowded. Both had identical ventilation. The only difference was that Semmelweis’ clinic was next door to a morgue. Doctors were constantly going back and forth between autopsies and checkups, but surely that didn’t mean anything.

Turns out, it did.

Bacteria from the cadavers was being transported from the staff to the patients. Of course, Semmelweis hadn’t a clue. Germs wouldn’t be discovered for several decades, and the idea sounded like madness. He only realized the truth after a friend died from a wound incurred during the examination of an ill woman. The similarities between the two cases led him to the conclusion that something from the morgue was spreading to the patients.

Semmelweis took immediate action. As the head of the maternity ward, he declared that the staff must wash their hands on a regular basis. To everyone’s surprise, mortality rates plummeted. In March and August of 1848, childbed fever claimed no casualties.

At first this new practice was eagerly received--but then political revolution swept over Europe. Semmelweis sided with the unpopular party and was dismissed from the hospital. Doctors stopped washing their hands as soon as he was gone, ridiculed his theories, and ignored the rising death rate.

Ousted from the clinic, Semmelweis struggled to spread the word about his discoveries. He gave lectures at Universities, wrote letters to other scientists and even published a book--but it was all in vain. The medical community was unwilling to set aside their old ideas about the spread of disease, and countless patients paid the price.

As the years went by, Semmelweis began to show signs of Alzheimer’s disease. He was committed to an insane asylum and died two weeks later, having possibly been beaten by the guards. The significance of his discoveries was only realized years after his death. Younger doctors such as Louis Pasteur and Joseph Lister carried on his work, successfully introducing antisepsis to the medical community.

Snapshots of the Great Depression

Dust storms

In addition to drought and dust-storms, a plague of jackrabbits came to devour the crops.

Two teenagers hitchhiking on a train.

A man eating Christmas dinner with his children.

Carry Nation

Carry Nation with her hatchet.

Alcohol has always been a controversial topic. It was no different in the 1900s, when the Women’s Christian Temperance Union began pushing for complete and total abstinence from liquor. A drinking epidemic had seized the country, and nationwide Prohibition seemed to be the best answer. If the menfolk weren’t strong enough to put the bottle down, the womenfolk would yank it out of their hands.

The WCTU worked mostly through hymns and prayer rallies. But one woman, Carry Nation, took a more radical approach. Frustrated by the lack of response to prohibition laws in Kansas, she collected a pile of rocks and started smashing saloons in Kiowa. As the saloons were illegal in the first place, she was not arrested.

Carry Nation claimed to have been divinely appointed for the task of destroying alcoholism in a vision, which she recorded in the following quote:

"GO TO KIOWA," and my hands were lifted and thrown down and the words, "I'LL STAND BY YOU." The words, "Go to Kiowa," were spoken in a murmuring, musical tone, low and soft, but "I'll stand by you," was very clear, positive and emphatic. I was impressed with a great inspiration, the interpretation was very plain, it was this: "Take something in your hands, and throw at these places in Kiowa and smash them."

After destroying the saloons in Kiowa, Nation hopped on a train, traveled to Wichita, and laid waste to another barroom. Bang! Smash! Thud! Glass scattered across the floor. Paintings were bashed under her club. The customers fled, and finally a policeman arrived on the scene.

“Madam,” he said, “I must arrest you for defacing property.”

“Defacing?” Carry screamed. “I am destroying!”

Over the next ten years she went on to be arrested thirty times, becoming a household name in the process. The WCTU awarded her a medal for bravery. Two newspapers about her movement were kept in circulation. Carry upgraded her homemade club to a hatchet, which went on to become her trademark.

To be honest, I’m not quite sure what I think of Carry. On one hand, she seems sincerely devoted to the prohibition cause--but what’s worse? Drinking or murdering? She was going hatchet-crazy in a room packed with inebriated people. Somebody could’ve been killed. Besides, not everyone who drinks is a drunkard. Take Jesus for example. He turned water into wine. He drank wine himself. He told his disciples to drink. Wine even came out of his side when the soldiers stabbed him. I don’t think Jesus would tell Carry to spearhead a complete-and-total-abstinence movement.

Nation’s saloon-smashing crusade chugged ahead for several years, but lost steam as she grew older. Instead of ransacking bars, she started touring the country to sell commemorative hatchets, milking her dwindling fame. Eventually, she became to frail to even do that, and retired in Arkansas. Her daughter (who happened to be married to a saloon owner) provided financial support during her last days, and Carry Nation went to be with the God she loved so much on June 2, 1911. Just a few years before country-wide Prohibition came into affect.

An anti-Carry sign found hanging in saloons.

Sorry I haven't posted in awhile--I've had a nasty case of procrastination--but now I plan on posting something every Tuesday. Please help me stick to that goal!

Traditional Celtic Music

I love Celtic music. It feels ancient. Sacred. Bittersweet. The Irish have captured their spirit in these little ditties, and by the end of the song I’m itching to grab my bagpipes and march to war. Either that or crying. They can turn your emotions around with a lilt of the fiddle.

The lyrics and stories also provide valuable insight into the lives of the Irish people during various stages of history. Below I have listed five of my favorites, and explained the legends surrounding them. 

#1 - Here’s A Health

This is an emigrant song, sung from the perspective of a man about to leave his homeland. But in classic Irish fashion, he finds time for one last drink at the pub. His friends are all gathered around. His lass is seated on his knee. Tomorrow might bring disaster, but right now life is good. The emigrant bids his friend to sing with him, saying “kind friends and companions, come join be in rhyme / come lift up your voices in chorus with mine / come lift up your voices, all grief to refrain / for we might or might never all meet here again.”

In other words, savor the good times.

#2 - The Green Fields of Canada

This is another emigrant song, but it presents quite a different perspective than Here’s A Health. Instead of escaping sorrow, the singer focuses on the grief of the elderly emigrants. He describes how they’re weeping, how they don’t want to be buried in a foreign land. In this modern age, it’s hard to imagine just how much they were abandoning.

The singer goes on to curse those who forced him to leave, and when I first understood the lyrics, I was shocked by his hatred. “May the crowbar brigade be doomed to damnation...” that’s pretty harsh. But that’s how the emigrants felt.

#3 - Betsy Belle and Mary Gray

The Black Death pounced on Ireland in 1645, reaping thousands of souls nationwide. Only one area was unaffected: the parish of Monkeydie, where laird Patrick Gray lived with his daughter, Mary.

Mary’s closest friend was Betsy Belle, and it’s clear that the narrator of the song was quite taken with them both. “Blithe as a kid with wit and will,” “she smiles like a May morning,” “her eyes are like diamond’s glances”--their beauty is extolled for several verses. But before the narrator could decide which girl to marry, the plague invaded Monkeydie. Mary and Betsy decided to hide in the wilderness until the sickness passed.

During their exile, the girls’ only visitor was the narrator, who provided them with food--and unwittingly spread the plague. All three died a violent death. Classic Irish ending.

#4 - Mary and the Soldier

Most Irish songs end in tragedy, but this one is the exception to the rule. It follows the story of a young lassie named Mary, who falls madly in love with a soldier she spies on parade. At first the soldier is hesitant to accept her marriage proposal. After all, they just met, and there’s a good chance he’ll be killed by “a shot from an angry cannon ball.” But Mary won’t back down. She says she’ll abandon everything--her parents, her home, her money--and follow him into battle. This insane display of loyalty moves the soldier to accept, and the song ends with the two swearing their undying love and asking God for His blessing.

Cute story, but not very realistic.

#5 - The Newry Highwayman

Here’s another tragedy for you: this time it’s about a thief. A young thief. When he was seventeen he married his sweetheart, then turned to crime in order to give her the luxuries she deserved.

The boy never hurt anybody. He only stole from those with plenty to spare. But the law made no distinction between theft and murder. They seized him and condemned him to death, leaving his widow to grieve. The song ends with the boy wishing he had died in the cradle instead. Cheerful, right?

Here are the recordings of these songs. Give ‘em a listen, and let me know what you think!

Here’s a Health - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ksi3UgNbhRY

The Green Fields of Canada - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RmSdRRgcZx8

Betsy Belle and Mary Gray - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E3l5qM2xveU

Mary and the Soldier - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybNhV-eHDPQ The music starts at 1:45

The Newry Highwayman - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDwGUYJqmOQ