Tuesday, April 9, 2019

Tecumseh!: Outdoor Drama Influencing Local History?

Tecumseh!, an outdoor drama held seasonally in Chillicothe, Ohio, may not seem like an obvious piece of local history, but it has shaped the community and stirred up some controversary.  Beginning in 1973, the Scioto Society (1970-Present) has been putting the play on for almost fifty years now.  According to the Tecumseh! website, “Along with serving economically and culturally to the area, Tecumseh! serves as a tradition to many families and is the first live arts experience for many children in Ohio.”  The Society also remains committed to sharing local history in general.[1]  
     In an article from 1974, Hamilton, Ohio’s Journal Newstake a slightly different perspective, admitting the merit of the show but questioning some of its historical value.[2]  After all, the portrayals of Native Americans are definitely influenced by late twentieth-century conceptions rather than the reality of the late 1700s.  Therefore, Tecumseh may tell us more about how twentieth-century viewers and current viewers perceive Native Americans and 1700s life rather than about the time in which Tecumseh!lived.    
     For Rosemary Virginia Hathaway, a student who was finishing her masters in philosophy in 1998, the play affects the tourism industry and outsider views of local history.[3]  According to one interview Hathaway conducted, the Tecumseh!Staff were looking to create an immersive experience for viewers.  Therefore, although they try to stay as true to the history as possible: “This is not a history lesson.  It’s a play. It’s a piece of theatre.”[4]  As someone who grew up attending outdoor dramas like Tecumseh!and Blue Jacket, I can attest to the fact that it influenced my view of Native American history.  Therefore, while Tecumseh!may not be the best representation of frontier life, it can tell us something about contemporary culture and early experiences with history.          


[1]Tecumseh!, “About Us: The Scioto Society, Inc.,” Scioto Society, Inc., 2019, http://tecumsehdrama.com/about-us/
[3]Rosemary Virginia Hathaway,  “Reading Tourist Sites, Citing Touristic Readings: Anglo Constructions of Native American Identity and the Case of Tecumseh,” Dissertation, The Ohio State University, 1998, Ii-iii. 
[4]Ibid, 287.  





Glendower: A Mansion of Stories

     Glendower Historic Mansion, now a part of Warren County Historical Society, has seen a variety of residents.  John Milton Williams (1807-1871) was the first, a lawyer with an illustrious political career.  Beginning as a copyist in Warren County’s courthouse, he then studied to become a lawyer, and eventually he moved up in the ranks to General Assembly representative.[1]  Unfortunately,  by the end of his life, he was as good as destitute, losing both his home and his family.  Beers’ History of Warren County notes, “He saw the extremes of life.  He rose, from poverty and obscurity to wealth and distinction; he sank again to obscurity and poverty.”[2]
     Glendower seems to have a history of lawyer residents as Durbin Ward (1819-1886) was a prosecuting attorney who lived in the home after Williams.  Ward was an avid reader and a Civil War veteran.[3]  Ward was also dedicated to his Democrat beliefs, as evidenced in an 1883 newspaper article in the Allen County Democrat, where he is quoted and seems to be referencing the current presidential campaign, “‘If there are any Democrats in any part of the State who entertain the idea that General Ward is not coming promptly to the front of the campaign, they are greatly mistaken.”[4]  He started The Lebanon Patriot, served on the Ohio Senate, and served in the Civil War, so he clearly cared about the state of politics.[5]  
     Finally, Joseph Pryce Owens (1852-1920) lived in Glendower Mansion for a time, and he worked both in business and industry.  According to the Glendower Historic Mansion Guidebook, printed by the Warren County Historical Society, Owens seems to have been well liked among his peers.[6]  Overall, Glendower Mansion housed important men within the community, becoming a symbol of Lebanon’s influence within politics and society, both locally and nationally. Glendower is a Greek revival style mansion and includes aspects for any interest, from historic china, to a room dedicated to Thomas Corwin, a prominent politician in nineteenth-century Lebanon, to the library used by Durbin Ward.[7]          


[1]Warren County Historical Society, “Glendower Characters: John Milton Williams,”Glendower: Historic Manson Guidebook.
[2]Josiah Morrow, The History of Warren County, Ohio (Chicago: W.H. Beers & Co., 1892), 388.  
[3]Warren County Historical Society, “Glendower Characters: Durbin Ward,” Glendower: Historic Manson Guidebook
[5]WCHS, “Durbin Ward,” Glendower Guidebook.  
[6]Warren County Historical Society, “Glendower Characters: Joseph Pryce Owens,” Glendower: Historic Manson Guidebook
[7]Warren County Historical Society, Glendower: Historic Mansion Guidebook.  






Glendower Historic Mansion, https://www.harmonmuseumohio.org/our-properties/glendower-historic-mansion-2/. 

Got Gas?


            World War II was mercifully brought to an official close on September 2nd, 1945 after the Japanese Empire surrendered.  It is difficult to remember, sometimes, that there was more going on in the world during this period in addition to the most destructive conflict in history.  Yet, life went on for people of the Home Front.  Rationing was still in effect, despite the cessation of hostilities with some coupons listed expiration dates reaching as far in the future as "December 31."[1]  In some cases however, rationing had already been lifted, even prior to the end of the war.  Due in part, no doubt, to the writing on the wall regarding the sheer inevitability of the Japanese defeat after the tragedies of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
            One of the primary substances that saw an early end to rationing, at least in Cincinnati, was gasoline.  Perhaps unsurprisingly, due to the sudden influx of fuel into an economy that had been starved of its presence since early 1942.  Equally unsurprising (in hindsight) was the uptick in traffic accidents caused by the increasing number of drivers who had been confined to a lower speed limit and fuel consumption over the previous several years.  Consequently, when the city manager compared the accidents caused in 1944 to 1945, his conclusion was simply that the increasing number of accidents was "expected to continue."[2]  Given that the rest of that section of the paper was dedicated towards the collisions that had occurred over the past day, it is a small wonder that a higher number of accidents relative to the previous year were expected.  Considering that the war had just ended however, the problems caused by a few traffic incidents were relatively minor indeed.

Editorial Staff. "Ration Table." Cincinnati Enquirer (1923-2009), September 02, 1945. 2. https://search-proquest-com.research.cincinnatilibrary.org/docview/1882844537?accountid=39387.
Editorial Staff. "Traffic Accidents Increase After the End of Gas Rationing." Cincinnati Enquirer (1923-2009), September 2, 1945. 13. https://search-proquest-com.research.cincinnatilibrary.org/docview/1882844537?accountid=39387.


[1] Editorial Staff. "Ration Table." Cincinnati Enquirer (1923-2009), September 02, 1945. 2.
[2] Editorial Staff. "Traffic Accidents Increase After the End of Gas Rationing." Cincinnati Enquirer (1923-2009), September 2, 1945.

Dr. Eli Pinney: A Multifaceted Man

    

    
      Dr. Eli Pinney was one of the first doctors in Dublin, Ohio who practiced starting in the mid 1800s.  He was originally from Worthington, Ohio and attended Worthington College.[1] While not much has been recorded about Pinney, his legacy was profound. According to a newspaper article from the 1980s, “At the time he had the most extensive practice in Franklin County.”[2]Nineteenth-century doctors were mostly local, so Pinney likely served multiple, nearby areas.[3]  Furthermore, as is evidenced in a picture on Ancestry, he received his M.D., which is apparently unusual, because many nineteenth-century doctors were not accredited.[4]  “Because there were no state licensing laws, pretty much anyone could claim to be a physician.”[5]  This is unthinkable to us today, because everything is regulated in the modern age. It would be nice to find more primary newspaper sources referencing Pinney.  Was he as credible as he seems? 
     In addition, he served in the Civil War.  He appears in another Ancestry photo with other Civil War veterans.  He is older in the picture, and all of the men have very grave expressions.  The words Cicero Post is printed on the wall behind them.[6]  According to A Centennial Biographical History of the City of Columbus and Franklin County, Ohio, Cicero Davis Post was a Civil War Union division.  The author mentions it in a biographical sketch of Reverend Sawyer A. Hutchinson, writing, “He served his term of enlistment and was then honorably discharged, but has always continued social relations with his army comrades through his membership in Cicero Davis Post, of Dublin, Ohio…”[7]  The picture might show a reunion or an anniversary of some kind.  Therefore, Pinney was not only a prominent doctor but a veteran.  Even with the sparse source material, by looking at two worlds Pinney was a part of, we come closer to seeing the full man.  






[1]Margaret Barron-Burd, “Eli Pinney Home Full of History and Lore,” Dublin Memories: A Digital Scrapbook for the Bicentennial and Beyond, Dublin Ohio Historical Society, circa 1980s, https://digital-collections.columbuslibrary.org/digital/collection/p16802coll39/id/8891/rec/20.
[2]Ibid.  
[3]Joel D. Howell, “Reflections on the Past and Future of Primary Healthcare,” Health Affairs, Vol. 29, No. 5 (May 2010): 760.  
[5]Howell, “Reflections on the Past and Future…,” (2010): 760.  
[6]“Dublin, Ohio Veterans of the Civil War,” Dublin Memories: A Digital Scrapbook for the Bicentennial and BeyondDublin Ohio Historical Society, circa 1880s, https://digital-collections.columbuslibrary.org/digital/collection/p16802coll39/id/227.   
[7]A Centennial Biographical History of the City of Columbus and Franklin County, Ohio(Chicago: The Lewis Publishing Company, 1901), 58.  

Thomas Worthington: The Pride of Chillicothe

     In an 1821 letter to his children, Thomas Worthington recounts the family’s genealogy and history.  Worthington was born in 1773 to Robert and Margaret Worthington.[1]  Despite the luxury of Adena Mansion, the Worthingtons led difficult lives.  Losing both his mother and father at a young age, Worthington had to live with his older brothers for a time, who were cruel to him.[2]  Worthington truly became an orphan was when his “beloved sister Mary” died and left him at the mercy of his brothers.[3]  Worthington remembers of his brother Ephraim, “From my brother and his wife I received unkind treatment and night after night did I wet my pillow with tears.”[4]  
     Originally from West Virginia, Worthington seems to have moved to Ohio about the same time Colonel William Darke, friend of the late Robert Worthington, takes Worthington in as his own son.  Darke ends up giving his estate to Worthington, who erects Adena Manson out of it.[5]  Apparently, “The Ohio frontier became enticing to Worthington as a place where he could advance in status and power.”[6]  He writes with pride in the letter, where he seems to be inspiring his children with his somewhat hero’s journey from a poor, orphan boy to a governor and well-respected citizen.  Part of this was thanks to his father, Robert Worthington, who, very concerned with his childrens’ education, found “the best teachers the country could afford,” ultimately affecting Thomas’s destiny.[7]     
     Despite Worthington’s problematic upbringing, as a former Ohio senator and owner of the Adena Mansion, he soon moved up in the world of politics and of culture.[8] Benjamin Henry Latrobe, who also designed the White House, designed Worthington’s home.[9]  The meticulous nature of his designs are evident in his architectural plans of the White House.[10]  The Adena Mansion then became known all over the United States and even abroad.  According to the Early 19th-Century German Settlers in Ohio Kentucky, and Other States, royalty even visited Adena Mansion in 1826.[11]  The Worthingtons, who may not have been nearly as prominent as the Jeffersons or the Washingtons, did come into contact with influential people.  Robert Worthington worked with George Washington for a time and Thomas Worthington’s name is written in association with Thomas Jefferson’s on land grant surveys, being that he was once surveyor general.[12]  In his letter, Worthington makes it clear that he reveals his difficult upbringing to his children in order to encourage them not to repeat the mistakes of men like his brothers.[13]  Ultimately the hope is that his children and grandchildren were moved to action by the story of poor, parentless Thomas Worthington, and that we too are inspired to live our lives to the fullest.    

   



[1]Ohio History Connection,  “The Worthington Family: Thomas Worthington,”Adena Mansion & Gardens Historic Site, 2019, 1,  http://www.adenamansion.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Thomas-Worthington.pdf.     
[3]Ibid, 1.   
[4]Ibid.  
[5]Thomas Worthington to children, 1821, Ancestry.com; OHC,  “Thomas Worthington,” Adena Mansion & Gardens, 2.   
[6]Ibid, 1.  
[7]Thomas Worthington to children, 1821, Ancestry.com.  
[8]OHC,  “Thomas Worthington,” Adena Mansion & Gardens, 3.  
[9]Ohio History Connection,  “Adena Mansion & Gardens,” Adena Mansion & Gardens Historic Site, 2019,  https://www.adenamansion.com/.  
[10]Benjamin Henry Latrboe, Architect, The White House, "President's House," Washington, D.C., Site plan and principal story plan, 1807, Photograph, https://www.loc.gov/item/2001698952/.
[12]Thomas Worthington, Issued 15 April 1806, Ohio River Survey, Chillicothe; Thomas Worthington to children, 1821, Ancestry.com; OHC,  “Thomas Worthington,” Adena Mansion & Gardens, 3.     
[13]Thomas Worthington to children, 1821, Ancestry.com.  


Latrobe's White House Design Plans, Ancestry.com

















Adena Mansion and Gardens, Adena Mansion Website 

From Insignificant Tavern to Booming Business: The Golden Lamb

    The Golden Lamb Hotel and Restaurant is a historic site in Lebanon, Ohio.  It is located a couple buildings down the street from the Warren County Historical Society.  Originally built in 1803 by Jonas Seaman as a tavern, the establishment has seen Turtle Creek Township since its founding in 1804.[1]  It first served to bring the community together and welcome travelers passing through who needed a place to stay.[2]  Over the years it received many important guests.  People like Charles Dickens and Ulysses S. Grant visited the Lamb.  Today these men have rooms named after them.[3]  It also survived both national and local historic events like the Civil War and the influx of Shakers into Lebanon.[4]            
     Robert Jones, Lamb innkeeper starting in 1926, really brought the history to the forefront.  He gathered his collection of Shaker artifacts and other antiques to display in the hotel, drawing attention to the Golden Lamb.  In fact, in response the Warren County Historical Society formed in 1940.[5]  However, today the Lamb does not operate as an official public history site but as a business.  There are three museum rooms, though, and a plethora of antiques and informational panels throughout the hotel and restaurant for guests to peruse at their leisure.  The oldest known object is a 1729 coachman’s bench located in the lobby.  Originally from England, the bench would have been used as a bed for someone’s servant.[6]  Nineteenth-century taverns typically required people to share beds, so the sleeping arrangements were nothing like we would expect today.[7]  There are many other fascinating tidbits like this about the Golden Lamb.  For example, Sarah Stubbs, former innkeeper Isaac Stubbs daughter, is purported to haunt the hotel since she lived there after her father’s passing.  There is a text panel about this story in the hotel.  The Golden Lamb’s growth from an insignificant tavern to a successful business and historical landmark is fascinating.                     


[1]Hazel Spencer Phillips, The Golden Lamb(Oxford Press, 1958), 2; H.P. Smith, History of Warren County(Syracuse, NY: D. Mason & Co., 1885), 433.   
[2][2]Kym S. Rice, Early American Taverns: For the Entertainment of Friends and Strangers(Chicago: Regnery Gateway, published in association with Fraunces Tavern Museum, 1983), 69, 79. 
[3]The Golden Lamb, “Hotel: Ulysses S. Grant” & “Hotel: Charles Dickens,” Legends Web Works, LLC., 2018, Accessed 4 March 2019,  https://www.goldenlamb.com/hotel/general-information-1/.  
[4]Phillips, The Golden Lamb, 5, 32. 
[5]Donna York, “Lebanon’s Bob Jones (‘Mine Innkeeper’) Honored for His Preservation Work,” The Western Star, 3 October 1984, Page 3B.  
[6]John Zimkus, Interviewed by Madelyn Chennells, 21 September 2018.  
[7]Rice,Early American Taverns, 102.




Taken by me, June 2017







Found in Warren County Archives 

A Flood of Memories


            Floods are an unfortunate fact of life when it comes to living alongside rivers.  While the Great Flood of 1913 maintains the dubious distinction of "worst flood in modern Ohio history", it has not been the only flood to stem from the Ohio River in the past century.  Mercifully, the most recent of these devastating natural disasters happened over twenty years ago, in 1997.  However, it is still imperative to recognize that while the damage and death toll of the latter flood pales in comparison to the one that wreaked havoc on the Ohio River Valley a century ago, there was still a human toll in this.
            One of the first major stories covered by the Cincinnati Enquirer during this period focused on Virgil Rarrieck Sr.'s return home after the waters receded and the struggles that he and his neighbors faced in reclaiming what they had lost.  No matter what these men and women had managed to secure before they were forced out of their homes, "inches of mud and the stench of a sewer"[1] awaited those who managed to return to their homes in the immediate days after the waters receded.  This incredibly pervasive stench is palpable in many of the dispatches covering the early days of the flood due to the contents of the floodwaters often containing the sewage of the area in addition to the normal detritus of a riverbed.  Despite the harrowing circumstances though, many Ohioans and Kentuckians banded together, as the situation necessitated.  Furthermore, the superhuman efforts of the emergency services, some of whom traveled from "as far away as Franklin County (Columbus)"[2] did an outstanding job in maintaining order and helping the region recover.

McLaughlin, Sheila and Wolff, Christine. "Everyday Life Stays on Course." Cincinnati Enquirer (1923-2009), Mar 05, 1997. 8. https://search-proquest-com.research.cincinnatilibrary.org/docview/1896966471?accountid=39387.
Tortora, Andrea. "Residents Return to Devastation." Cincinnati Enquirer (1923-2009), Mar 05, 1997. 8. https://search-proquest-com.research.cincinnatilibrary.org/docview/1896966471?accountid=39387.


[1] Tortora, Andrea. "Residents Return to Devastation." Cincinnati Enquirer (1923-2009), Mar 05, 1997. 8.
[2] McLaughlin, Sheila and Wolff, Christine. "Everyday Life Stays on Course." Cincinnati Enquirer (1923-2009), Mar 05, 1997. 8.