Schoenbrunn Village - Moravian Missionaries

Tamera Lynn Kraft

In the 1770s, Moravian missionaries moved to Ohio from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania to settle a village called Schoenbrunn which means Beautiful Spring. Their goal was to bring the Gospel to the Delaware Indians. After the Delaware would convert to Christianity, they moved into Schoenbrunn. Within a year, the village grew so large, they started another settlement and Gnadenhutten.

Schoenbrunn, in many ways, was ahead of its time. The settlers of the village, including the Delaware, created their own code of conduct and opened a school. The school taught both boys and girls when other colonial schools at the time only accepted boys. The students learned to read both English and Lenape out of a Bible that was translated in the Lenape language.

The Moravians built a church there with painting on the walls of Biblical scenes. They used these painting to teach about the Bible. They had church every morning and twice on Sunday. On special occasions they would have Lovefeasts where they served coffee, juice, and sweet buns. The Christmas Eve Lovefeasts were the most special because the Moravians were the first to have Christmas Eve candlelight services.

The settlement only lasted a few years. When the Revolutionary War broke out, British troops suspected the Moravians of giving information to the colonial army. These charges against them were true. After a time, they moved to protect themselves from reprisals.

Schoenbrunn Village is still open today for visitors and tourists to learn about some of the earliest missionaries in America.

In November, my Christmas novella called A Christmas Promise is due to be released by Harbourlight Press in e-book format as part of their Christmas Extravaganza.

Limners, Colonial American Portrait Painters



A 1765 oil on canvas by Matthew Pratt (1734-1805).  Pratt sits at his easel, and his teacher and friend, Benjamin West, stands at the far left holding paint brushes.

Susan F. Craft

During the 1600s in the American colonies, not many people had enough wealth to extensively cultivate the fine arts.  The few artists who lived in the colonies during the early years of settlement had attended or apprenticed in schools of art in Europe, and were heavily influenced by Renaissance styles.

By the early 1700s, wealthy families hired painters, referred to as “limners,” to paint portraits of their families. Limners were among the first to record glimpses of life in colonial America. These limners, mostly self-taught, generally unknown by name, turned out naive portraits in the Elizabethan style, the Dutch baroque style, or the English baroque court style, depending upon the European background of both artist and patron.

Many limners painted miniatures -- tiny watercolor portraits -- on pieces of ivory, often oval-shaped. These were commonly worn as jewelry. Limners also painted on paper and canvas and earned, on average, $15 per portrait.

Like most artisans of their time who found it difficult to support themselves with paintings only, they also worked in pewter, silver, glass, or textiles or took jobs doing ornamental painting of clocks, furniture, signs, coaches, and landscapes.

Portraiture was the most important form of painting during the Colonial period, but rather than a true portrait, the paintings were idealistic and did not present a true representation of the personality of the sitter and were often two dimensional. Artists focused on the material wealth of the subject, giving much attention to their clothing and accessories. Some artists painted only the faces of their subjects, explaining that they need not bother with tedious sittings, and that they would paint the bodies and clothing later. They would show their subjects English and French prints from which to choose whatever costumes they preferred.

Limners Samuel McIntire and Duncan Phyfe became celebrated painters of furniture. Famous portrait artists included Joseph Blackburn, Peter Pelham, John Smibert, John Singleton Copley, John Trumbull and Charles Wilson Peale. An American painter, Benjamin West, became painter to the king and president of the Royal Academy in London. American painters flocked to his studio to learn under his tutelage, including Gilbert Stuart.

Gilbert Stuart

Colonial limners kept supplies of pigments which they mixed to create watercolors, oil, and tempera paints. Watercolors consisted of  pigment and chalk. Oil paints were a mixture of pigment and linseed oil. Tempera paints were a mixture of pigments, lime, and milk.

Pigments were derived from white lead, zinc oxide, mercuric sulfide, iron oxide-containing clay and Paris green, a poisonous compound made of green copper and arsenic. Artists also used Prussian blue, a blue iron pigment. Limners sometimes made their own brushes, but could buy them from merchants as well. Brushes were made of quills from geese, ducks, and crows. Red sable-tipped brushes were often used for watercolor paintings, as were squirrel-hair quill brushes. They would have afforded limners working on a miniature the ability to create fine lines. Boar's bristles, widely used for a variety of tools, were likely used for paintbrushes, as they are today. Boar's bristle paintbrushes are most commonly used for oil paintings.

Artist’s color box (Harvard Art Museum)

Artists stored their pigments and paints in color boxes a sort of antique backpack--wooden boxes with hinges attaching the top to the bottom. The bottom half of the box served as a storage place for paint materials, and the lid served as a palette. A leather shoulder strap was attached for easy transport.

In 1754 in British colonial New York, an artist took out the following ad in the Gazette and the Weekly Post: Lawrence Kilburn, Limner, just arrived from London with Capt. Miller, hereby acquaints all Gentlemen and Ladies inclined to favour him in having their pictures drawn, that he don't doubt of pleasing them in taking a true Likeness, and finishing the Drapery in a proper Manner, as also in the Choice of Attitudes, suitable to each Person's Age and Sex, and giving agreeable Satisfaction, as he has heretofore done to Gentlemen and Ladies in London. He may at present be apply'd to at his Lodgings, at Mr. Bogart's near the New Printing-Office in Beaver-Street.

"Courage, New Hampshire" Comes to INSP

His love for history was nurtured by his mother and grandmother; his love for writing was encouraged at the university.

So when James Patrick Riley created, wrote and produced the mini-series, “Courage, New Hampshire,” his two passions came together in a way that fulfills most writers’ fantasy. “You gotta dream big,” said Riley in a recent interview.

This dream will be further enhanced on Memorial Day weekend when the four-part series set in the days leading to the Revolutionary War will be premiered on the INSP network on May 27 at 7 p.m. Eastern time. It will be repeated at various times through the ensuing weeks.

Riley’s interest in the American Revolution began as a youngster. He recalls hearing stories told by his grandmother of how his ancestors participated in that war. He became fascinated with the novel Johnny Tremain and his mother decorated their home with genealogy charts of their family trees that revealed ancestry that spanned back for generations.

“I love the Revolutionary War,” he said. “It’s a romantic attraction for me.”

When his family purchased hundreds of acres of ranch land in Southern California in the 1980’s, he and his brother, Scott, both history buffs, sought ways to share the heritage of the United States in various ways. Civil War reenactments led to school programs for thousands of local children.

While Scott Riley’s interest lay in the Civil War, James’ love of the war to free the country from England led to plays and programs featuring the American Revolution. Gradually, he began writing scripts for plays that were acted out on their ranch, complete with a New England style tavern that he and his wife had built as their home.

James P. Riley as Silas Rhodes

Riley’s love of fiction writing began to birth another idea: Scripts for a series that would be historically authentic. Thus, the seeds for “Courage, New Hampshire” were planted.

What began as an hour-long segment entitled “The Travail of Sarah Pine,” soon developed into a four-part mini-series that follows the characters that live in a fictitious town in New Hampshire.

So what are Riley’s hopes for “Courage, New Hampshire?” “I’d like to have a big enough audience to take it through the American Revolution.”

To that dream, most watchers of this series will shout a hearty “Huzzah!”

Here is a review of the series that I wrote for Colonial Quills in 2012:

Courage, New Hampshire is a fictitious township on the edge of the American frontier in 1769.  A close-knit Christian community, it lives under the shadow of the growing discontent of the colonists, who fear the king’s increasingly despotic rule.

Episode 1 is called “The Travail of Sarah Pine.” An unexpected visit by three of the King’s soldiers (dressed as civilians) stirs the ire of the local justice of the peace and tavern keeper, Silas Rhodes (James Patrick Riley). He is disturbed by the fact that the soldiers are not in uniform, yet claim to be seeking deserters from the British Army. He accuses Sergeant Bob Wheedle of plotting a kidnapping, and promptly has the sergeant arrested.

During his incarceration in a local barn, a young woman named Sarah Pine brings the prisoner victuals. She naively thinks that all the British soldiers are trustworthy. In her sympathy, she gives the man more than a free meal and nine months later, she has born the soldier’s child. (This is family friendly in its presentation) When Bob Wheedle returns on military business a year later, he is arrested again, this time for the crime of bastardy.

The mini-saga of colonial justice coming up against one of the crown’s soldiers is fraught with tension and filled with emotion.

Episode 2 begins with the declaration by the justice of the peace Silas Rhodes that Courage seems to be covered with a black cloud. Not only has there been fornication in the community, but burglary and counterfeiting. Rhodes bemoans his choice in the last several years to invest in local mills and industry, rather than in hiring a minister of the gospel. Determined to amend the spiritual drought, he hires a temporary minister—but this wolf in sheep’s clothing may cause more harm than good.

Episode 3 sees increasing tensions between the crown and Courage as pressure is put on the local farmers to leave the white pines on their land. The British want the tall trees for naval ship masts; the farmers just want to clear the land for their crops. But felling these trees—even on their own property—can lead to the British government selling the farm at public auction. As Rhodes bitterly states, “You can’t grow potatoes under a pine tree.”

The increasing influence of the patriot group, the Sons of Liberty, keeps Rhodes walking a fine line between keeping the residents of Courage safe while keeping himself and the other patriots out of trouble.

Episode 4 keeps the action moving at a brisk pace, as the aforementioned reverend from Episode 2 has gone a step too far with a certain young woman in town. But the minister has an ally in the local crown-appointed governor and, in an extraordinary performance by Donal Thoms-Cappello, the reverend shrewdly taunts representatives of the law in Courage. He knows he has the upper hand. Although the patriots want justice, they know all to well that a political misstep on their part can put their entire town at risk for retaliation from the king.

This episode ends with a meeting between the leadership of Courage and the governor. It is militia training day in Portsmouth, New Hampshire and, in showing the colonial force of arms for all to see, the governor is confronted with the reality of the situation: The growing colonial rebellion is stronger than he ever imagined.

This extremely brief synopsis does not even begin to describe the rich characters, accurate historical details, lovely period clothing, and overall quality production of “Courage, New Hampshire.” James Patrick Riley has done his homework for the series and gets an A+ in accuracy.

Some of the industry’s finest actors are involved in this project, including Basil Hoffman who was in the Academy Award winning movie, “The Artist.” Hoffman brilliantly portrays the crown-appointed lawyer Simeon Trapp who does everything necessary to defend the King’s soldier accused of bastardy in Episode 1.

Although there are mature topics in this series, it is not graphic or explicit.

The Army Heritage Center

Last week I had the opportunity to take my kids with our home school group to Carlisle, Pennsylvania for a day's tour of the Army Heritage Center. With displays on everything military from the French and Indian Wars through the War on Terror, I knew they would have fun--and I was hoping to come away with some nice pictures and research on that early stuff, since I seem to have fallen into writing books about wars. ;-)

 

Our tour began in the Colonial section of the center, where we got to watch a blacksmith at work in the Carlisle Forge. I've had this pleasure before, but it never really gets old to see how they take hunks of formless steel and turn them into works of art or function. What especially amazes me is how these dedicated reenactors can explain so much about the early days of our country and the craft they obviously love while performing it before our very eyes.

A few of the pieces this smith had done, based on
original artifacts he had seen

This gentleman explained about how a blacksmith was one of the most important people to any army. Each regiment would have one, but he would rarely see any fighting--they kept him well removed from the front lines, because he was too valuable to lose. He also explained, when someone mentioned how very lovely the pieces are, that what we deem beauty--those delicate curls and whisper-thin pieces of iron--were actually there for economy's sake. Iron was expensive, and never wasted. They made pieces as thin as they practically could to conserve the resources, and tapered them at the ends for the same reason.

From there our group ventured into more modern times, but I didn't pay quite as much attention to those. ;-) I was far more intrigued by the recreation of the Yorktown Redoubt...

Revolutionary War Blockhouse

...and in hearing the tales told to us by this wonderful historian at the Revolutionary Block House. We didn't get to go into the watch tower, but I thoroughly enjoyed hearing the guide talk about the long rifle he carried, the state of the roads in the day (I didn't realize they left the stumps of the trees they cut for roads, accounting for all those terrible bumps!), and why it was necessary to boil the salted fish three times before consuming it. Yes, to remove all the salt...but also to remove all the maggots. (Eww!) He also explained how the term "mess" came to be used for food in the military. Whenever they had fresh meat, each man would get a hacked-off portion. But they weren't exactly trimming steaks here--some men would end up with nice meat, others with nothing but bone and fat. So a group of six or so would throw this mess into a pot together with whatever vegetables they might have been given. The result was a stew that gained flavor from the bones and provided something to actually eat from the meat.

Our final stop of the day was to venture into the model of a Logg House. Originally set up to be supply stations between the forts during the French and Indian War days, they afterward became vital to settlers who wanted to trade, water their horses, or get fresh food. Unfortunately, most of these two-room homes were destroyed during Pontiac's War in 1763.

All in all, a fun day of hands-on discovery! (Oh, and the kids had fun too...) ;-)

~*~

Roseanna M. White pens her novels under the Betsy Ross flag hanging above her desk, with her Jane Austen action figure watching over her. When she isn’t writing fiction, she’s editing it for WhiteFire Publishing or reviewing it for the Christian Review of Books, both of which she co-founded with her husband.

Four and a Half Kings

In 1710, five Native American men traveled first class from New York State to London. One died on the voyage, but the remaining four became the talk of the town and had numerous interactions with Queen Anne.

This was not the first ‘royal treatment’ bestowed upon a native American.  About 100 years earlier, Pocahontas was received as a “princess” because her Algonquin father, Powhaten, had been called The Indian King.

The Four Indian Kings

Queen Anne

The four kings were not kings and not even chiefs. One was Mahican, the other three Mohawk, and only one, King Hendrick, a baptized Christian, had any position in his nation as a member of the Mohawk council.

The native Americans were sent out by New York’s colonial leaders, (mostly by Dutchman Peter Schuyler) to ask Queen Anne for money and help to fight the French influence.  The Iroquois confederacy (Five Nations plus the Tuscarora) were THE BUFFER/BORDER between the English speaking colonies and the French speaking colonies of what is now Canada. 

The kings asked for missionaries ‘to spread the Gospel’. (yes, their translated speeches are on file.)

While in London, they visited the sights and a Shakespeare play. It’s said that the audience clammered until the Four Kings were placed on stage where they could be seen --- they were much more of a draw than a repeat of Shakespeare!  They also sat for oil portraits after being fitted out for royal robes.  Many English considered the Four Kings to be only a bit more savage than their own Barbarians of the north—the Irish and the Scots Highlanders!

Prints were made of the oil paintings and sent to each Iroquois village as well as NY City,  the mission and Fort Hunter in Lower Mohawk Castle (village), and Kensington Palace. The originals were moved to Canada in 1977 and unveiled by Queen Elizabeth in Ottawa.

As all things to do with government and religion, part of the request for funding a mission had to do with the angst between the Catholic and Protestant churches. French Jesuits had converted some Mohawks to Catholicism while others  adopted Anglican faith.  Eventually, these Catholic Mohawks became their own nation close to Canada called the Caughnawaga and would later be part of the turmoil during the French and Indian War. As you can see, the Mohawks had a long standing relationship with Great Britain.

While the goal of the Iroquois Confederacy was neutrality,  Mohawks (Keepers of the Eastern Door) accepted Colonial ways and the English King, but some Seneca (Keepers of the Western Door) favored the French. Despite this family squabble, the Iroquois held together through a century of agreeing to disagree and were loath to fight each other unless …it was a matter of life or death.

Back in the Mohawk Valley of NY,  an Anglican mission was built, funded by Queen Anne and run by “The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel”, a missionary society still active today.

One more interesting note:  Two King Hendricks?

 

Only as late as 2010 was a long-standing Mohawk mystery solved.  King Hendrick who traveled to England in 1710 was referred to as the same King Hendrick who led Indian attacks alongside the British at Crown Point, and later at Fort George where he died at “The Bloody Morning Scout” in 1755.

The fact is there were two Mohawk King Hendricks, one from the Wolf Clan, one from the Bear Clan and in almost all ways very dissimilar besides a thirty year age difference.  

King Hendrick of the French and Indian war, loved wearing British military regalia.