Hyson Tea: A Small Adventure in Historical Research

Hyson tea was even a favorite of Thomas Jefferson

"February 8," the jail receipt read, "1/4 lb. Hyson tea, 3s. 9d., 1 lb. sugar, 1s. 6d. for Betsey Walker
she being brought to bed by a son the previous night, 5s. 3d."

The receipt goes on to list ginger and more sugar two days later and the cost of the midwife. Later notations document tea and sugar and midwife expenses for Susanna Harpe, and then tea, sugar, and whiskey for Sally Harpe, after each of them gave birth in the Danville Jail, Kentucky, in February, March, and April 1799 respectively.

I've covered the saga of the Harpes and their unfortunate women elsewhere--and give a full fictionalized treatment in my most recent book The Blue Cloak--but while researching their story I ran across this notation and immediately wondered, just what is Hyson tea?

Well. Turns out Hyson was a well-known and much-loved variety of green tea, dating at least to the 18th century, sometimes considered a mediocre variety but valued enough by the British to carry a higher tax rate than others. It reportedly accounts for 70 of the 300+ cases of tea destroyed during the Boston Tea Party.

Tea instead of coffee for the sake of research is no hardship

Further investigation revealed that part of the tea's charm comes from the slow unfurling of entire leaves, twisted and dried whole, and the light, delicate green tea flavor. (See this short but informative article at The Right Tea, explaining its origin and extolling its virtues.) To my surprise, the variety of tea is still available, and though more of a coffee drinker than tea, I caved to my curiosity and bought some. I also found a sampler offering all the tea varieties dumped into Boston Harbor, but sadly waited too long before purchasing and now it's no longer available. At any rate, Hyson tea does indeed have a pleasing taste, even without milk or sweetener, but especially when not forgotten and oversteeped. :-)

It's curious that the tea, with sugar, was considered part of the care and courtesy extended a postpartum woman, even one forced by the nefarious deeds of her "family" to give birth in jail. Maybe not surprising, given the reported benefits modern-day science has found of green tea in general. Regardless, the notation from jail and court records of the time provides a fascinating glimpse of the material culture of the past. And it's been just plain fun to taste a tea that just may have been very similar to that enjoyed by our colonial and Federal foremothers ... and even offered comfort and sustenance to three hapless new mothers in a Kentucky jail in 1799.

Important Early American Artists #4: John Singleton Copley

By J. M. Hochstetler

John Singleton Copley, Self Portrait (1780-84)

When I was in school I loved art class, and although it’s been a number of years since I’ve done any drawing or painting, my interest in the visual arts has continued throughout my life. Which is why I’ve been focusing on important early American artists in my last 3 three posts. Today I’m going to wrap up the series by taking a look at John Singleton Copley, who became famous in both America and England for his portraits and paintings of historical subjects and is generally acclaimed as the finest artist in colonial America.

Copley was born July 3, 1738, most likely in Boston, Massachusetts, to Richard and Mary Copley. Richard was from Limerick, while Mary was a Singleton from County Clare whose family was of Lancashire origin. They immigrated to Boston in 1736 and owned a tobacco shop on Long Wharf. Richard apparently arrived in America in ill health, however, and around the time of John's birth went to the West Indies, where he died in either 1737 or 1748, depending on the source you consult. In any case, he died previous to Mary’s wedding Peter Pelham on May 22, 1748.

Paul Revere (1768-70)

Little is known of Copley’s childhood. Pelham painted portraits and was an excellent engraver, however, which undoubtedly set Copley on the path to a career as a painter. Young Copley was around fourteen when his stepfather died, and about that same age Copley painted his half-brother Charles Pelham, his earliest extant portrait. More promising works followed during the next few years, and by the time he was 20 he was steadily employed in painting portraits. Copley’s works reveal a detailed knowledge of New England people and culture. Influenced by the Rococo style of Joseph Blackburn, Copley portrayed his subjects with objects relevant to their personal lives, like this one of Paul Revere, which gave his portraits an intimate sense of the person’s character and interests that was rare 18th-century American painting.

A Boy with a Flying Squirrel (1765)

Commissions from the foremost members of New England society made Copley a prosperous man. His income, extraordinary for New England in the 1760s, elevated him to the Boston aristocracy. But he was eager for wider recognition. In 1766 Benjamin West, a fellow countryman who had moved to London to pursue his own art career, entered Copley’s painting A Boy with a Flying Squirrel (1765), at left, in the annual Exhibition of the Society of Artists of Great Britain. The subject is Copley’s half-brother, Henry Pelham, seated at a table playing with a pet squirrel, and it gained Copley’s election as a Fellow of the Society. West urged him to come to England to study for several years, but although Copley continued to send pictures to the Exhibition, he hesitated to risk the prosperity he enjoyed in Boston for an uncertain future in England.

Copley Family (1776-77)

On November 16, 1769 Copley married a woman of impeccable social status. Susanna Farnham Clarke was the daughter of Richard and Elizabeth (Winslow) Clarke. Her father had become very wealthy as an agent of the East India Company in Boston, and her mother’s ancestors had arrived in America on the Mayflower. By all accounts the Copleys’ marriage was not only socially notable, but also a happy one. Susanna was a beautiful, poised woman, whose portrait Copley painted several times. He and Susanna welcomed six children into their family in a house he built on the west side of Beacon Hill, where they lived as members of the top tier of Boston society.

The only substantial time Copley left Boston during this period was in 1771 and 1772, when he spent seven-months painting in New York City and Philadelphia as the political situation in Boston was deteriorating. The tea destroyed in the Boston Tea Party had been consigned to his father-in-law, and his extended family were all Loyalists, which made it increasingly dangerous for him to stay in the area. He finally heeded the urging of West and others and sailed for England in June 1774 as many other American artists had done before him, leaving his mother, wife, and children behind until he could secure lodgings. In England he received a warm reception from West and England’s art community. In 1775 while he traveled through France and Italy to study the great works of art, his wife and children arrived in London, where they stayed with her brother-in-law, Henry Bromfield. Susanna’s father and brothers soon joined them in London. After Copley’s return he and his family settled in 25 George St., Hanover Square, where Copley, Susanna, and their son, John Singleton Copley, Jr., the future Lord Lyndhurst, lived until their deaths.

Watson and the Shark (1778)

Encouraged by the success of West and others, Copley ventured outside of portraiture and began to paint more historical pieces. His first important work in the genre was Watson and the Shark (1778), at left, which portrays an incident involving his friend and fellow artist Brook Watson, who at the age of 14 lost a leg in a shark attack while swimming in Havana harbor. The painting foreshadows one of the great themes of 19th-century Romantic art: man’s struggle against nature. Copley’s historical paintings were so successful because he went to great lengths to create excellent likenesses of the people in them and to include correct details of the historical period. He traveled throughout England to make studies of old portraits of the subjects he intended to paint as well as the actual historical locations. At the same time he continued to paint portraits of English royalty and famous British and American individuals.

Copley was elected as an associate member of the Royal Academy in 1776 and made a full member in 1783. Likely more politically liberal than his relatives, he maintained contact with many New Englanders, painting portraits of John Adams, John Quincy Adams, and other Bostonians when they visited England, and in 1791 he was elected a Foreign Honorary Member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. His daughter Elizabeth married wealthy Gardiner Greene of Boston, whose descendants preserved much of the Copley family’s correspondence for posterity.

John Adams (1783)

Ultimately, although Copley’s intensive work habits certainly contributed to his success, the long hours at the easel and lack of regular exercise also took a toll on his health and disposition. A granddaughter recalled that he usually painted continuously from early morning until evening, when his wife or one of their daughters would read to him. In his latter years he struggled with depression made worse by the expense of maintaining his household and educating his son, John Singleton Copley, Jr., who in adulthood became a brilliant lawyer. As Copley’s own career waned, paintings that took years of labor remained unsold, forcing him to borrow heavily to cover household expenses. His physical and mental health declined as well, and he died of a stroke on September 9, 1815, deeply in debt. His daughter Mary wrote that “He was perfectly resigned and willing to die, and expressed his firm trust in God, through the merits of our Redeemer.” He was buried in Croydon Minster in Croydon, Surrey.

Copley became the greatest and most influential painter in colonial America, with a legacy that extended well into the nineteenth century. In Britain his greatest achievement was in developing contemporary history painting as a combination of history, idealism, and theater. Boston’s Copley Square, Copley Square Hotel, and Copley Plaza are named after him, as are Copley Township in Summit County, Ohio, and the Copley crater on the planet Mercury. In 1965 the U.S. Postal Service issued a 5-cent stamp commemorating the 150th anniversary of his death that features his daughter, Elizabeth Clark Copley, from his Portrait of the Copley Family (1776) above.

In this series I’ve covered John Trumbull, Benjamin West, Gilbert Stuart, and now John Singleton Copley. Please check out the links to those articles in their names above and answer the following questions.

1. What do you find the most interesting about one of these artists?

2. Which painting by any one of the artists are you most drawn to?
Please share, and I’ll share mine too!

~~~

J. M. Hochstetler is the daughter of Mennonite farmers and a lifelong student of history. She is a professional editor, a publisher, and the author of award-winning historical fiction whose books have been endorsed by bestselling authors such as Lori Benton, Laura Frantz, and Jocelyn Green. Her American Patriot Series is the only comprehensive historical fiction series on the American Revolution. Book 6, Refiner’s Fire, released in 2019, and one more volume, Forge of Freedom, will complete the series. She is also the author of One Holy Night, the Christian Small Publishers 2009 Book of the Year, and co-authored the award-winning Northkill Amish Series with Bob Hostetler.

The Role of Tea in the American Revolution by Cynthia Howerter

You may recall my post on February 5, 2014 about colonial tea tables (An 18th Century Tea Table). The research for that article prompted me to learn more about the role of tea in Colonial America. I hope you find this brief history about tea and the American Revolution as interesting as I do. 

During the French and Indian War (1756-1763) and Pontiac’s Rebellion (1763-1766), England’s national debt skyrocketed—in part, from the high cost of supplying its military to the American colonies to fight these two wars. After these wars ended, England recognized a need for the continued defense of its colony and kept an army on American soil.

England's red coated soldiers

Faced with paying for an astronomical national debt as well as the cost of keeping an army in America, Parliament needed to raise income. Because the British government believed the colonists should shoulder a considerable amount of the cost of their defense, Parliament created revenue-raising taxes for the American colonies. Lacking representation, the American colonists had no say in the taxes that Britain forced on them. 

In June 1767, the British imposed the Townshend Revenue Acts on the colonies. These Acts imposed taxes for necessities such as glass, lead (used in bullet-making), paper, and tea. Unfortunately, the colonies were experiencing economic hardships as a result of the two recent wars, and these new taxes did not sit well with the Americans. 

Provoked colonists began purchasing imported tea from sources other than England’s East India Company. The ripple effect was that East India Company’s tea sales plummeted, and the company asked the British government for help.

Loose black tea

The British government’s response was the establishment of the Tea Act of 1773.  This Act did not raise taxes on the colonists, but gave the East India Company a monopoly to trade tea in the American colonies and prevented other tea importers from doing business in the colonies. It also allowed East India Company agents to sell directly to the American colonies which meant that tea sales bypassed Colonial merchants and caused them severe financial distress. 

The colonists saw this Act as yet another means of England trying to control the American colonies. The result was that colonists refused to unload tea from East India Company ships in the ports of New York, Philadelphia, and Charleston.

Colonists in Boston took things one step further. On December 16, 1773, Patriots boarded the East India Company’s ships anchored in Boston Harbor and threw thousands of pounds of tea—costing about $1,000,000 in today’s money—into the water.  We know this action as “The Boston Tea Party.”

Outraged at The Boston Tea Party, Parliament passed the Coercive Acts in 1774 which were specifically designed to punish the citizens of Massachusetts for their role in ruining the tea in Boston Harbor. Incensed, the Americans renamed these "The Intolerable Acts." These Intolerable Coercive Acts removed Massachusetts’ self-governing rights, prompting the start of a colony-wide revolt that began the American Revolutionary War.

American soldiers of all ages joined in the fight for their independence

After refreshing my memory with the role tea played in our country’s history, I’ll never again be able to enjoy this beverage without acknowledging its part in my American citizenship. What about you? 

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.

Visit Cynthia's website: Cynthia Howerter - all things historical

  

The Boston Tea Party: A December to Remember

There was a boatswain’s whistle, and in silence one group boarded the Dartmouth. The Eleanor and the Beaver had to be warped in to the wharf. Johnny was close to Mr. Revere’s heels. He heard him calling for the captain, promising him, in the jargon everyone talked that night, that not one thing should be damaged on the ship except only the tea, but the captain and all his crew had best stay in the cabin until the work was over.

Captain Hall shrugged and did as he was told, leaving his cabin boy to hand over the keys to the hold. The boy was grinning with pleasure. The ‘tea party’ was not unexpected.

Excerpt from Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes

And thus began the most famous Tea Party in American history when the underground resistance group known as the Sons of Liberty dumped 90,000 pounds of tea into Boston Harbor on the 16^th of December, 1773. The group of dissenters, dressed up like Mohawk Indians, were spurred on by Samuel Adams as a protest against the Tea Act of 1773. This law, which was enacted by the British Parliament, gave the East India Tea Company a virtual monoply over tea sales in the colonies.

In the eyes of the Massachusetts colonists, who had already endured one tax after another, this was one tax too many. The efforts of Parliament to recoup monies lost in the French and Indian War had now backfired, as the Colonials believed their rights as British citizens were being lost one by one.

Resistance to the Tea Act was active throughout the colonies but the East India Tea Company proceeded to send 500,000 pounds of tea across the Atlantic in September, 1773. Due to pressure from local patriot groups in the cities of Charleston, New York and Philadelphia, shipments of tea from England were refused by the local merchants. But in Boston, several relatives of the Crown-appointed Governor Hutchinson ruled the marketplace and they did not concede to the local patriots who tried to send the tea back to England. The patriots refused to pay the tax on the cargo. But the Governor in Massachusetts insisted that the taxes be paid and the tea stay put.

  

The Sons of Liberty decided otherwise as 342 wooden crates holding tea leaves were hatcheted open in front of thousands of silent observers lining Griffin’s Wharf at midnight.  

 No one was injured in the protest and it is said that the rebels swept up the decks of the ship afterwards. Since the ships were actually owned by Americans, and not the British, the pseudo-Indians had no quarrel with the shipowners.

In The Boston Campaign, April 1775 – March 1776, Victor Brooks writes, “…when the ‘Mohawks’ in Boston responded to this direct challenge by dumping the hated tea in the harbor, each side correctly saw the event as a watershed in the history of Britain’s rule over the colonies and as a clear prelude to military confrontation between parliament and the American provinces.”

 It was just a little over a year later (April of 1775) when full-scale war broke out between the colonies and England. It was a conflict that lasted nearly eight years.

The people of Massachusetts and all the colonies soon acquired a taste for coffee.

The Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum, in celebration of this occasion, allow costumed re-enactors to participate in throwing tea into the sea every year on December 16. Watch their video here.

Huzzah!

Coffee in the Colonies

“What if I brewed up some Bohea…in your coffeepot? Are you brave enough to try?”

Anna smirked. “I am desperate enough to try.”

                             Excerpt from Fields of the Fatherless (soon to be released)

Betsy and her sister-in-law, Anna, took a huge risk brewing up the Chinese black tea called Bohea (bu-ee). It was strictly forbidden in the colony of Massachusetts in 1775—so much so that neighborhood comitteemen were assignd to monitor private households to ensure that only coffee or herbal teas were served.

Anyone caught drinking the banned brew of tea taxed by England would be deemed a Tory. But drinking coffee was akin to declaring independence for America. Coffee was the preferred drink of the patriotic cause although many still desired the black or green tea that they had been accustomed to. Some, like Anna, used black tea like Bohea for headaches, so it was a real sacrifice to make the change. And some just liked the milder taste of tea.

But preferences aside, the popularity of coffee in America soared after the Boston Tea Party.

In fact, the party itself was planned and the details plotted out in a coffee house called The Green Dragon. It was in December of 1773 that over one hundred enraged patriots tossed cases of tea overboard from three ships into the murky Boston harbor. The tea boycott had begun.

But while coffee was suddenly in high demand, it had actually arrived in the colonies in the late 17^th century, at the same time as tea.

 Coffee originated in the Arab countries but live plants were transported to greenhouses in Holland in 1616. From there, the Dutch began to grow this popular bean in India and Java (now called Indonesia). Within a few years, the Dutch were the main suppliers of coffee to Europe.

The Holland connection brings up another interesting tidbit from my research. A mortar and pestle for “braying” coffee beans into powder was brought over on the Mayflower in 1620 by passengers William and Susanna White. The emigrants onboard the Mayflower had resided in Holland for a time before leaving for the New World. Thus, the first coffee may have arrived with the first colonists arriving at Plymouth, although there was no record of the beans actually carried as cargo onboard.

English coffeepot, Staffordshire transferware

According to Dennis Picard, historian at Storrowton Village Museum in West Springfield, Massachusetts, “coffee was shipped and purchased green, and the homeowner had to roast each batch either in a spider (a frying pan with legs) or a metal drum shaped roaster.” It was then ground with a mortar and pestle.

Crank coffee grinders began to be used in homes in the early part of the 19^th century.

The first literary reference to coffee consumption in North America is from 1668, when coffee houses were established in New York, Philadelphia, Boston and other cities. Often these coffee houses also served other beverages, such as tea, ale and cider.

A mention of coffee and tea is found in Shirley Glubock’s Home and Child Life in Colonial Days:

“In 1670, a Boston woman was licensed to sell coffee and chocolate, and soon coffee houses were established there. Some did not know how to cook coffee any more than tea, but boiled the whole coffee beans in water, ate them, and drank the liquid; and naturally this was not very good either to eat or drink.

At the time of the Stamp Act, when patriotic Americans threw the tea into Boston Harbor, Americans were just as great tea drinkers as the English. Coffee-drinking, first acquired in the Revolution, has also descended from generation to generation, and we now drink more coffee than tea. This is one of the differences in our daily life caused by the Revolution.”

Brittania ware Coffeepot

Just one of the many differences, indeed.

My favorite excerpt about coffee and the American Revolution was an incident recorded by Abigail Adams in 1778, and quoted in Revolutionary Mothers by Carol Berkin:

“An eminent, wealthy, stingy merchant (also a bachelor) had a hogshead of coffee in his store, which he refused to sell…under six shillings per pound. A number of females, some say a hundred, some say more, assembled with a cart and trunks, marched down to the Warehouse and demanded the keys which he refused to deliver. Upon which one of them seized him by his neck and tossed him into the cart. Upon his finding no quarter, he delivered the keys when they tipped up the cart and discharged him; then opened the Warehouse, hoisted out the coffee themselves, put it into the trunks and drove off…a large concourse of men stood amazed silent spectators.”

I suppose the moral of that tale is, never stand between a woman and her coffee—especially during a Revolution!

 (Coffeepot photos courtesy of Storrowton Village Museum, West Springfield, Massachusetts)