Announcements

10 Year Anniverary & New Releases Winners: Carrie Fancett Pagels' Butterfly Cottage - Melanie B, Dogwood Plantation - Patty H R, Janet Grunst's winner is Connie S., Denise Weimer's Winner is Kay M., Naomi Musch's winner is Chappy Debbie, Angela Couch - Kathleen Maher, Pegg Thomas Beverly D. M. & Gracie Y., Christy Distler - Kailey B., Shannon McNear - Marilyn R.

Friday, August 29, 2014

The Port Royal Earthquake of 1692!



In 1692 an earthquake struck the city of Port Royal Jamaica, a city that had been deemed the

Wickedest City in the World. Port Royal was a British outpost, a thriving shipping and merchant community. If you have seen the first pirate movie, you may remember Port Royal was the city Captain Jack Sparrow first sailed (or rather sunk) his ship into. With a population close to 6500, the city was larger than New York City at the time. Cramped, unhealthy, and wanton, the port town was settled for reasons purely of lust and greed and was filled with pirates, privateers, sailors, and other greedy sorts. There were a few honorable souls among the inhabitants, but they were in the minority. Two such honorable men were the Reverend Dr. Emmanuel Heath of Christchurch and Sir Hans Sloane.

On the morning of June 7th, Dr. Sloane and his son set out for the mainland by canoe to visit patients in Spanish Town. Dr. Heath attended his church as he did every morning trying to set an example for "a most ungodly, debauched people". Dr. Heath was on his way for lunch at the home of Captain Ruden, but he stopped at an Inn to have a glass of wormwood wine with a merchant friend

At approximately 11:40 am he felt the ground “rowling and moving” under his feet. His friend told him it was only an earthquake and would be over soon, but when Dr. Heath ran into the street, he felt two more larger jolts, and by the time he arrived at Captain Ruden's house, it had


vanished into the sea. Dr, Heath’s church fared no better. It rapidly descended into the sea, its tower collapsing in the process.

An eyewitness describes:
The sand in the street rose like the waves of the sea, lifting up all persons that stood upon it, and immediately dropping down into its; and at the same instant a flood of water rushed in, throwing down all who were in its way; some were seen catching hold of beams and rafters of houses, others were found in the sand that appeared when the water was drained away, with their legs and arms out.

Dr. Heath attempted to make his escape by running towards Morgan’s Fort, but he saw the sea “mounting in’.  Those who had survived the initial earthquake now faced a tidal wave from the south. Not good news for those still trapped in the wreckage of buildings. Dr. Heath headed for his house, which he found still standing, as most were in the eastern section of the city due to being built on an underlying corraline mass.

Meanwhile out in the harbor Dr. Sloane and his sons reported:

We were near being overwhelmed by a swift rolling sea, six feet above the surface, without any wind, but it pleased God to save us, being forced back to Linguanea, where I found all houses even with the ground, not a place to put one's head in, but in Negro houses. The terrible earthquake shook down and drowned nine-tenths of the town of Port Royal in two minutes time, and by the wharfside in less than one. Very few escaped there. I lost all my people and goods, my wife and two men, Mrs. B and her daughter. One white maid escaped who gave me an account that her mistress was in her closet, two pair of stairs high, and she was sent into the garret, where Mrs. B and her daughter were, when she felt the earth quake and bid her take up her child and run down, but, turning about, met the water at the top of the garret stairs, for the house sunk right down and is now under thirty feet of water

Two-thirds of the town, sank into the sea immediately after the main shock. According to Robert All the wharves sunk at once, and in the space of two minutes, nine-tenths of the city were covered with water, which was raised to such a height, that it entered the uppermost rooms of the few houses which were left standing. The tops of the highest houses, were visible in the water, and surrounded by the masts of vessels, which had been sunk along with them."
Renny in his 'An History of Jamaica' (1807): "

 It is believed that nearly 2000 people lost their lives in the actual quake and several thousand more in the disease and looting and starvation afterward.  Among the persons of note who perished were: Attorney-General Simon Musgrave, Provost-Marshal Reeves, Colonel Reade, Captain Ruden and Naval Officer Reginald Wilson. There were many narrow escapes and miraculous deliverances. One such miracle happened to Lewis Galdy who was first swallowed up and sucked out to sea by the first seismic wave then miraculously returned to land by the second.  A young Mrs. Akers was swallowed up in a gap in the land then ejected into the sea and within three  minutes was rescued by a ship.

The earthquake sank the narrow sandbar that connected Port Royal to the mainland and made it an island again. In the aftermath several hundred people found safety on the HMS Swam a royal navy ship that and been washed ashore. Dr. Heath  survived and was instrumental in helping rescue survivors and get them proper care.

Though many tried to rebuild Port Royal, it never returned to its former glory and most of the merchant business transferred to Kingston. History lovers and treasure hunters diving at Port Royal over the years have found many fascinating artifacts. One item of interest was a watch that had stopped at seventeen minutes before twelve: the time of the third and greatest shock.


My new release, The Ransom, takes place in Port Royal in 1692. It is a story of mystery, intrigue, honor, adventure, romance, with a few pirates added in for good measure.  Though it doesn't center around the earthquake, the plot drives the characters through a series of twists and turns up to that earth-shattering moment.

With over 80 5-star reviews, you might want to check it out!!   Click on the book for more information!
http://www.amazon.com/The-Ransom-Legacy-Kings-Pirates/dp/0991092120/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1399065223&sr=8-3&keywords=marylu+tyndall

Monday, August 25, 2014

Aprons and Ammunition

Elizabeth Zane (1765-1823)
Betty Zane delivering the gunpowder
 Library of Congress,
 Prints & Photographs Division, [LC-USZ62-2355]
     On September 11, 1782, Fort Henry in Wheeling, WVA, was under siege by the British and their Indian allies.
    Elizabeth (Betty) Zane’s family had taken refuge in the fort. Betty was loading a Kentucky rifle when her father was wounded and fell right in front of her.
     Soon after, the captain of the fort realized they were out of gunpowder. With no men or time to spare, Betty volunteered to retrieve the needed gunpowder from her family’s cabin a short distance away.
     Shocked at seeing a woman run out from the fort, the enemy didn’t try to shoot her on the way there. But, on the way back, they noticed that she was carrying gunpowder in her apron. They opened fire, barely missing her with arrow and musket shot. The new supply of gunpowder enabled the fort to hold off the attack until reinforcements arrived two days later. 
     Betty’s story is best told by John S. Adams, who wrote a poem called Elizabeth Zane, which he penned more than one hundred years after the event. (Many accounts of Betty's act of bravery say she wrapped the gunpowder in her apron. This poem says a tablecloth.)

This dauntless pioneer maiden’s name
Is inscribed in gold on the scroll of fame.
She was the lassie who knew no fear
When the tomahawk gleamed on the far frontier.

If deeds of daring should win renown,
Let us honor this damsel of Wheeling town,
Who braved the savages with deep disdain,
Bright-eyed buxom Elizabeth Zane.

‘Tis more than a hundred years ago,
They were close beset by the dusky foe;
they had spent of powder their scanty store,
And who should the gauntlet run for more?

She sprang to the portal and shouted,
“I. ‘Tis better a gril than a man should die!
My loss would be but the garrison’s pain
Unbar the gate!” said Elizabeth Zane.

The power was sixty yards away
Around her the foemen in ambush lay;
As she darted for shelter they gazed with awe
Then wildly shouted, “A squaw! A squaw!”

She neither swerved from left or right,
Swift as an antelope’s was her flight.
“Quick! Open the door!” she cried amain,
For a hope forlorn! ‘Tis Elizabeth Zane!

No time had she to waver or wait
Back must she go ere it be too late;
She snatched from the table its cloth in haste
And knotted it deftly around her waist,

Then filled it with powder –never, I ween,
Had powder so lovely a magazine;
Then scorning the bullets’ deadly rain,
Like a startled fawn, fled Elizabeth Zane.

She gained the fort with her precious freight;
Strong hands fastened the oaken gate;
Brave men’s eyes were suffused with tears
That had been strangers for many years.

From flintlock rifles again there sped
‘Gainst the skulking red-skins a storm of lead.
and the war-whoop sounded that day in vain,
Thanks to the deed of Elizabeth Zane.

Talk not to me of Paul Revere
A man on horseback with naught to fear;
nor of old John Burns with his bell-crowned hat
He’d an army to back him, so what of that?

Here’s to the heroine, plump and brown,
Who ran the gauntlet in Wheeling town;
Here is a record without a stain
Beautiful, buxom Elizabeth Zane.

      Betty Zane's great-grandnephew, the author Zane Grey, wrote a historical novel about her, titled Betty Zane, which includes an account of Betty’s bravery. Unable to find a publisher for it, he published it himself in 1903. Grey later named his daughter Betty Zane after his famous aunt.
     Betty was buried in the Walnut Grove Pioneer Cemetery in Martins Ferry, Ohio. Her heroism is remembered each year during Betty Zane Pioneer Days.

Susan F. Craft is the author of the Revolutionary War suspense, The Chamomile, which won the SIBA Okra Pick award. Her book, Laurel, a post-Revolutionary War suspense, will be released by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas on January 12, 2015. Susan is represented by Linda S. Glaz, Hartline Literary Agency.

Friday, August 15, 2014

My Family Tree

Sylvester and Perridine Mills (Sylvester was a Cherokee living as a white man)
My Family Tree
By Tamera Lynn Kraft

I finally signed up for Ancestry.com a couple of weeks ago. My mom did some research on my family tree a few years ago, but she never went any earlier than 1835. I was curious because we never found anyone who came over on a boat. I wondered how far back my family tree in America went. Once I started researching, I was thrilled with the results. Almost all of my family was here when the United States became a nation.

On my mother's side, I've research back to the 1720s and still have most of the ancestors of mine living in the colonies. I'm excited to see how far back this will go. On my mother's side, I found a man who fought in the American Revolution, Private John Cooper. His name appears on the Sons of the Revolution list. I also had three relatives fight with the Confederates in the Civil War, and my uncle fought in World War II. I also have a great-great grandfather who was a full blooded Cherokee, so his family never came over on the boat.

On my dad's mom's side, my family also goes way back. I did find a relative, George Casper Roush, that came over on a ship from Germany in 1727. He fought in the Revolutionary War along with two of his sons,  Private John George Roush (also direct descendant) and one of his brothers. I also have a descendant who fought in the War of 1812, on the Union side of the Civil War, and my dad fought in the Philippines in World War II.

That explains my fascination with the colonial period.

My husband is also an American in every sense. His father, and 3 uncles fought in World War II. Most of his family were immigrants from Wales, Germany, and Scotland who came here for a better life in the late 1800s.

I enjoyed researching my family tree and recommend Ancestry.com to anyone who is interested. It was great to know how far back my family tree went. But it's also great to know that we are all Americans and a part of the history of this great nation.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

A Visit to Menotomy Village (Arlington, Massachusetts)


By Elaine Marie Cooper

Last May was a rare pleasure for this author: I was the guest speaker at the Jason Russell House (Smith Museum) in Arlington, Massachusetts, to discuss my latest release, Fields of the Fatherless.  This novel, based on a true story, is set in the very home in which I spoke. It is difficult to describe the many emotions that pulsed through my heart as I visited my hometown and relived the story in front of an audience. What a joy!

Not only was I able to revisit my hometown but I spent the day after the event visiting the landmarks of the story. Let me share some of the sites through the photos I took, along with quotes taken from Fields of the Fatherless.

“Always remember—this land you’re standin’ on was settled by my great-grandfather. Russells have sweat over this soil for many a year. A musket can ensure it remains our home. No matter the intentions of any other.”



Several British soldiers ran off through a field toward Spy Pond but were shot at by several of the elderly local men who had been exempted from joining the Minutemen.



“David Lamson.” Betsy said the old man’s name in disbelief as she watched him and the other veterans regroup and stare at the carnage.



Several of the men hauled the carcasses of the dead horses away from the road and others pulled the supply-laden British wagons down into a hollow just off the road.



Workers at the burying ground dug one huge grave for all twelve men. There was little time to prepare hand-sewn shrouds or wooden boxes in which to lay the bodies. There was a war to prepare for.



Betsy determined to bring flowers once a week to the graves of the buried British soldiers who had died in Menotomy. There were at least 40 of them.



Elizabeth Russell died in 1786 at the age of sixty-five. She is buried next to her husband, Jason, in the old burying ground.



More soldiers—both American and British— died in Menotomy Village (now called Arlington) on that day than all the other towns between Concord and Boston.


Thank you for touring the town of Arlington, Massachusetts, known during the American Revolution as Menotomy Village.

Elaine Marie Cooper is the author of the award-winning, Fields of the Fatherless. For more information, you can visit her website here.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Colonial Texas History: the Alamo

The Alamo chapel, nestled in the heart of modern San Antonio
“Remember the Alamo!”

Who hasn’t heard that? And who really knows the significance of it?

I certainly didn’t, until a recent trip to San Antonio where I stayed and attended a conference a mere two blocks from the Alamo museum and shrine. Of course, being the history nerd that I am, I had to go visit.

And was utterly inspired.

So today, y’all, I’m serving up a slice of colonial history, Texas style.

Once upon a time, Texas was part of Mexico. It was the northern of two provinces, denoted by a flag with two stars, and when Texas declared its independence, it kept the one star—hence the term “Lone Star State.”

Mexico had itself just declared its independence from Spain. A fuller discussion of that is found at the official website of the Alamo, which has a handy scrolling timeline to check events in Mexico and Texas against what was taking place in the rest of the world. You’ll also find links to an excellent resource called the Handbook of Texas, run by the Texas State Historical Association. While the eastern American colonies were taking shape, present-day San Antonio was chosen as the site for a Spanish mission that remained modestly successful until the late 1700’s. Later, the chapel and grounds were fortified for use as a local garrison against the threat of the French and Americans.

They really do call it a shrine!
For a while, the Mexican government welcomed immigrants from the United States, and between 1823-28, the Anglo population grew from 5000 to about 30,000. Mexico’s attempts to stop immigration from the US only fanned the flame of independence in Texas. (Small wonder, they were just a generation removed from the American Revolution!) Then came the rise of Santa Anna, a self-styled dictator who repealed the federalist constitution Mexico had drafted in 1824. It was only a matter of time before he decided to quell the rebellion in Texas, once and for all.

The garrison at the Alamo was his primary target as "the first piquet on the frontier." The battle there was only one of many, but became famous for the severe outnumbering of its defenders by the Mexican army (roughly 10-to-1) and for Santa Anna’s cruelty in dealing with the rebellion. He flew a red flag at the outset, a sign that no quarter would be given (I’ll discuss later how this contrasts with one of the famous “massacres” of the American Revolution), and while he spared the lives of the women and children hiding there, he sent them on their way with orders to share details so the Texians would know how unbeatable his army was. (A fairly forthright and cohesive overview of the Battle of the Alamo is found on Wikipedia.)

Side gate to the Alamo history walk
The Alamo’s commanders agreed it wasn’t the most defensible position. Hearing of the Mexican army’s advance, they begged for reinforcements, but few came. Among those who did join the fight was a small group headed by former U.S. Congressman David Crockett of Tennessee. Other notables were the two men who became co-commanders in the battle, William B. Travis from South Carolina and James Bowie from Kentucky and Louisiana. Severe illness confined Bowie to bed when the Mexican army attacked after a 13-day siege, so Travis was in charge at the end. His plea for reinforcements contains the “Victory or Death” slogan made famous after this battle.

Santa Anna’s forces attacked before dawn, and after 90 minutes or so, all but a handful of the defenders lay dead. Survivors were speedily executed. Actual numbers differ—sources say between 182 and 257 men died there. The Mexicans lost two or three times that number.
A city stands where a terrible battle took place...

All this I was ignorant of until visiting the Alamo. We stood in line to walk through the chapel, which has been dedicated as a “shrine to Texas liberty”—photography is forbidden, but you can see some of the inside, including artifacts and artwork, at the official site. Under the “Plan A Visit” tab is an interactive map, offering several panoramic views of the grounds and inside buildings.

Sun over the wall
In the sacristy where the women and children hid during the battle (only one was killed, small comfort), I stopped to reflect on the awe and sadness that seems to infuse all battlefields. In the long barracks, we watched a short film giving an overview of the battle, and I was struck breathless at the parallels between this and Kings Mountain—only in this case, the defenders were the rebels and not the loyalists, but the battle of the Alamo certainly provided the fuel to galvanize the Texas army into defeating the Mexican army shortly afterwards, who outnumbered them 2-to-1. Walking through the mini-museum of the long barracks was an extra treat, as it contained several Pennsylvania long rifles, such as my characters might have carried in my stories Defending Truth and Loyalty’s Cadence. (In the long barracks panoramic view, you can just barely see the rifle and knife of Davy Crockett in a display case against the wall.)

Fifty-five years or so later than the American Revolution this might have been, and more than twenty after the War of 1812, but I was struck by the similarities and parallels.


Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Shopping in Colonial Times by Cynthia Howerter

Tarpley Thompson Store in Colonial Williamsburg
In the colonial historical fiction novel that I’m currently writing, there is only one store near the Wallace family who lives on a farm in Northumberland County, Pennsylvania, in 1777. Maclay’s Trading Post, owned by Scottish immigrant Robert Maclay, carries a large assortment of goods that settlers in a rural area need but cannot provide for themselves.

Because it’s helpful for me to visualize scenes as I write them, I visited the  Tarpley Shop in Colonial Williamsburg and took photos of the interior. Let’s take a stroll inside and see what items the Wallace women might need to purchase for their colonial kitchen.

During the colonial era, cooking was done in a large fireplace. The Wallace women would have set pans and tea kettles on iron trivets over the burning coals to cook their food. These would have been made by a blacksmith. The triangular trivet contains short legs and would have been used for pans that required direct heat from coals while the round trivet with its longer legs allowed a pan to sit farther away from direct heat.

Triangular trivet with short legs

Round trivet with longer legs

Both wood and iron cooking utensils were used by the Wallace women. Surely Mr. Maclay sold these items in his trading post.

Iron cooking ladles and forks










Assortment of wood cooking utensils










The Wallace family had an abundance of fresh eggs because they raised chickens.And what goes better with eggs than toast? Yes, colonial women were able to take slices of bread and toast them in their cooking fireplaces. But I'm certain the Wallace women had to keep a close eye on their food! Below is a two-slice toaster. Ahem.
 
A colonial "toaster"

The Wallace Farm had an apple orchard that produced an abundance of apples. Each fall, apples were processed into cider, a favorite drink of the family. The mugs below would have been made by a potter. 

Mugs or tankards

 Robert Maclay's Trading Post catered to the needs of his customers. Those who could afford dishes made from pottery would have been able to purchase them from Maclay's store.

Kitchen dishes made from red clay pottery

Before the Wallace women leave Maclay's Trading Post, they surely would have taken one last look to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything. The photos below give a broader view of the inside of the Tarpley store in Colonial Williamsburg. 

Tarpley's store in Colonial Williamsburg


Interior of the Tarpley store in Colonial Williamsburg


I hope you've enjoyed shopping with the Wallace women today. Because they walked several miles from their home to the store and had to also walk back home, they only purchased what they could carry. And that simply means they will have to go shopping again soon.


All Photographs © 2014 Cynthia Howerter 

Award-winning author Cynthia Howerter loves using her training in education, research, writing, and speaking to teach and inspire others about a time in America that was anything but boring. A member of the Daughters of the American revolution (DAR), Cynthia believes history should be alive and personal.