Of Puritans and Privateers

I'm in history heaven.

So, I never would've said that my favorite historical era was colonial or early American. As a child, I loved ancient Greece, Renaissance fairs, Gone with the Wind, and both Little House on the Prairie and Little Women. In graduate school, I focused on Victorian England.

But Puritans? Pilgrims? The Mayflower? Jamestown, Plimoth, Williamsburg? Philadelphia? Boston? The French and Indian War? The Revolutionary War? Nope.

Sure, I qualify, through my paternal grandmother, I believe, to be both a Colonial Dame and a Daughter of the American Revolution, but I'm not.

And I never really cared. Maybe it's because such colonial history seemed so far removed from Texas, which had conquistadors then and a much more vibrant story (for me) about the Alamo and San Jacinto. Maybe it was a Southern bias against Yankee history, ignoring that several of the original colonies, of course, were in the South.

But now I'm living in a town that is more than 100 years older than the Alamo (first permanent mission building in 1744), almost 200 years older than the birth of Texas as a nation (in 1836). I mean, there are houses here that people still live in that are older than Texas itself, and much older than the historic houses of Texas which often date to the mid-19th century. Which is all to say that history is all around us in a way that I never felt as a child, where everything in our suburban enclave was new. So old and contained is this community that you meet descendants of families that came here in the mid 1600s, who roads and schools are named after, who say "the town has only recently opened up to outsiders like you."

And I am absolutely fascinated. I love the old houses, the saltboxes and colonials. I love the folklore about Captain Kidd, witches (per capita, Connecticut prosecuted more than Salem, MA or anywhere else in the colonies), Revolutionary War privateers, Washington's 7 visits (no, I don't think he ever slept here), actual war skirmishes, old cemeteries, all of it.

So now I'm volunteering at an historic house, helping with curriculum and giving tours (both of which I've done professionally, just not in this context). I'm researching the 18th century, focusing on social not political history--women, pirates, slaves, cooking, and textile production--re-reading Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's numerous tomes (often about Maine, but Age of Homespun mentions CT) and Carol Berkin's First Generations about colonial women (and not just the white women), consulting The Open Hearth Cookbook and old receipts, and learning so much about northern slavery, which Yankees have so long downplayed and outright ignored. I've learned so much. For instance: Minkisi (singular: nkisi), sacred objects derived from ritual practices in West Africa where African slaves originated, have been found throughout the colonies. Comprised of everyday objects like nails, coins, or buttons, minkisi were often bundled in cloth and concealed in houses, especially in doorways or in the center of rooms, for protection.

Of course, my favorite part, I'll readily admit, is the costume. Yes. I get to dress up. Though my background is in art museums, which never have costumed interpreters, I have always, always, always, since my first days dressing up for Ren Faires, wanted to be a costumed interpreter or reenactor (these usually pretend to be from the period in question, like at Williamsburg). And now I will. Bodice, overskirt, stays, petticoat, apron, mob cap. Maybe later a full linen gown. I can't wait.

Only better than the costume would someday (and not at this house, unfortunately) be cooking in costume at an open hearth!