How the First World War Led to American Independence

This is the tenth anniversary of one of my favorite blogs, and also of this one. I reran it a few years ago, but few people read it because it's about history. As I said in the opening to our book "Hoosier Hysterical", history would be a lot more fun if it was made ... well ... fun. So I had fun with this. (It's been changed slightly, because I'm older.)

 

            Ever since Christopher Columbus first landed in the New World and hid all the Viking artifacts, America has been a land of opportunity, independence, and smallpox.

            Eventually the British colonists decided to go off and form their own country. (Except for Canadians, who were too polite to leave.) Since our schools don’t teach enough history--there’s so much more of it now--here's a quick timeline of how we, the people, went from tea to coffee:

 

            1756: The French and Indian War

            This was probably the first World War. Seriously: Over here we just mention the French and Indians, but the rest of the world called it the Seven Years War. It spread all over the globe, like a viral YouTube video, but with more cannon fire and disease. Nations involved included Austria, England, France, Great Britain, Prussia, and Sweden. Oh, and the Indians, who had their own list of nations.

            (Later Prussia, not wanting to be confused with Russia, changed their name to Germany.)

            The war cost the British government so much, they began taxing the colonists to help pay for it. Yet they didn’t allow the colonies to raise their own armies, plus there was that whole taxation without representation thing.

            Oh, one more thing: The whole world war began (mostly) because a young Virginia militia leader ambushed a French scouting party in the far western wilderness … near Pittsburgh. In later years, George Washington would be more careful to start battles after war was declared.

 

 

            1770: The Boston Massacre:

            No, it wasn’t a sporting event. It started when a group of colonists began throwing snowballs at a squad of British soldiers (In Boston. Sheesh.). That’s not so bad, is it? Then the colonists starting tossing sticks and stones, which can indeed break bones.

            This is why you shouldn’t throw stuff at people with guns. Five colonists died and the soldiers were arrested, but they were mostly acquitted thanks to the crafty defense by a young lawyer names John Adams.

            1773: The Boston Tea Party

            Tired of high taxes, an unresponsive government, and Earl Gray, colonists (In Boston—sheesh) dressed up as Indians, sneaked aboard ships (In the harbor—sheesh), and tossed 342 chests of tea into the water. In today’s dollars, they turned Boston harbor into the world’s biggest cup, with $750,000 worth of tea. They were led, of course, by the famous Boston patriot Folger “Starbuck” Maxwell.

            But why blame the Indians? They didn’t even drink tea.

            1774: The First Continental Congress

            They didn’t get much done. But in their defense, they were a Congress.

            1775: Patrick Henry stirs the pot

            With the grievances of the colonists ignored by a remote government—sort of like today, only without Facebook—a radical named Patrick Henry, upset because he had two first names and no last one, began making fiery speeches and resolutions.

            The truth is, Henry was kind of a deadbeat. Worse, a lawyer. But man, he sure could talk good, and his actions helped ignite the American Revolution. You’ve probably heard one line of his big speech: “Give me liberty or give me death!” Luckily, he got liberty.

            1775: The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere.

            He rode through the countryside yelling, “The British are coming!”

            Sleepy residents yelled back, “Shut up, fool! We are the British!”

            Then he got arrested, probably for violating the noise ordinance, and the ride was completed by William Dawes. Unfortunately for Dawes, the name “Paul Revere” sounded better in poetry.

            Also 1775 (busy year, there): The Battle of Lexington and Concord

            Revere discovered the British were marching by sea, which slowed them down considerably because the horses didn’t swim well. That gave the Minutemen almost a full two minutes. It was plenty of time to gather in Lexington, to protect stores of arms and gunpowder, and Concord, to protect the grapes.

            1775 (saw that coming, didn’t you?): The Second Continental Congress

            Didn’t get much done. They made up for it in 1776, though.

            1775 or so: The Battle of Bunker Hill

            GPS misdirected the troops, who actually fought on Breeds Hill.

            177—wait for it—5: Patriots occupy Montreal, Canada

            Things were looking up, up there. And that’s the last time things looked up for the Revolutionaries in the north, who discovered Canadian hospitality didn’t extend to invasion.

I wrote about both the American Revolution and Canadian hospitality in Hoosier Hysterical. Did you know Indiana was the location of the westernmost naval battle of the Revolution? You didn't? It's in the book. I'll go sulk, now.

            1776 (finally!) Egged on by the British, Cherokee Indians attack along the entire  frontier

            They were still upset about the whole Tea Party fraud. Also, they were mad about getting named for a country on the other side of the world.

            June 7, 1776: Richard Henry Lee reminds the Continental Congress that they’ve been rebelling for more than a year, and wouldn’t it be a good idea to actually declare themselves to be rebelling?

            June 11: Five Congressmen are appointed to draft a Declaration of Independence. The other four talk Thomas Jefferson into doing the writing, pointing out that he’s the only one who’s invented a portable desk, and they left theirs at home.

            June 12-27: Jefferson writes a rough draft, only to receive a rejection letter from the committee.

July 1-4: The entire Congress rips apart the Declaration. (Not literally. Sheesh.) Jefferson quits writing and goes into politics.

July 2: Congress declares independence, just as the British fleet and army arrive to invade New York. Talk about timing. John Adams declares that July 2 will forever be celebrated as Independence Day.

July 4: Having already declared independence, Congress now adopts the Declaration of Independence, declaring something they’ve already declared. John Adams’ head explodes.

July 9: George Washington has the Declaration read before the American army. The soldiers nod politely and ask when they’re going to get paid.

There was much more to it, of course. In fact, you could say the American Revolution went on until the US Constitution was adopted in 1788, or even until we fought the second Revolutionary war in 1812, which might also be related to the real second World War.

Now, that’s a funny story.

 

What's that, you ask? Why yes, of course you can celebrate July 4th, or any date, by buying Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All:

https://www.amazon.com/Hoosier-Hysterical-became-midwist-without-ebook/dp/B01H7YJNFE

https://markrhunter.com/HoosierHysterical.html

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hoosier-hysterical-emily-hunter/1123866879

https://bookshop.org/p/books/hoosier-hysterical-how-the-west-became-the-midwest-without-moving-at-all-mark-r-hunter/8021562

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30641159-hoosier-hysterical

The Potawatomi Trail of Death

 Emily and I were traveling through Marshal County, Indiana, when we stumbled across a sign:

We knew about the Trail of Death, having traveled across Indiana for two years researching our book, Hoosier Hysterical. Since Emily and I have Native American blood, we followed our curiosity and other signs ...

To the statue of Chief Menominee. 

Here Beowulf (who was not allowed to pee on the property) investigates a plaque at the memorial site. While other Native Americans signed treaties and moved themselves west of the Mississippi River, Menominee gathered into his village a group of people who simply refused to go. In 1838 he and five other leaders were arrested, and the final 859 Potawatomi were forced to move to Kansas, a two month trip. It was the largest single forced removal of Natives from Indiana. In a march of about 660 miles, forty-two of them died, many of a typhoid epidemic; twenty-eight were children.

A Catholic priest who made the trip with them died on the way back, of exhaustion. Menominee himself passed away less than three years later, and is buried in Kansas.

The first monument to a Native American under state or federal legislation is this one, erected in 1909 by the State of Indiana. It's near the headwaters of the Yellow River, and not far from the location of his village.

So.

Emily and I both have Cherokee ancestors: Hers were forced onto the Trail of Tears, ending up in her case in Missouri; mine apparently hid out in the Appalachians, escaping government removal. There are markers and monuments commemorating events along the routes, and I'd encourage people to follow them sometime.

If there's one thing our road trips have taught us, it's that you come across the most unexpected things along the way.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

 

Columbus, the Gilligan of Explorers

Today is Columbus Day, when we celebrate the first European explorers to discover the Americas, which they weren’t, when Christopher Columbus landed on our continent, which he didn’t.

Still, Columbus thought October 12, 1492, was worth celebrating. After all, he’d badly miscalculated the size of the word, figuring he’d have to sail about 2,300 miles to reach the East Indies. It was actually 12,200 miles from the Canary Islands to Japan. I’m not sure anyone even consulted the Japanese on the idea, let along the Canaries.

Luckily for Columbus’ dwindling food supply, he bumped into a continent that nobody even knew was there. He spent his whole time there assuming he was in Asia after being the first to sight land—which he didn’t. A guy named Rodrigo de Triana was the first to actually see some little palm tree in the Bahamas.

After one of his ships ran aground he established the first Age of Discovery colony in the New World, but the men he left behind argued over gold and internet usage, and the town failed. Meanwhile Columbus headed back with some kidnapped locals, and introduced Europe to tobacco.

If you think about it, he was kind of a lousy explorer. If he'd made it to the Pacific, he'd have ended up stranded on Gilligan's Island.

I mean, Cuba looks nothing like China. Come on.

But at least that got Columbus the job of Governor of the Indies, where he gained the nickname “The Tyrant of the Caribbean”, soon to be a major motion picture from Disney.

All of this led to the Aztecs and Incas being wiped out, pandemics in both the Americas, yadayada, Pilgrims, American Revolution, treaties broken, Trail of Tears, casinos.

I’m summarizing a bit.

Now, my wife is not a fan of Christopher Columbus. I suspect she thinks Columbus’ direct descendent was Andrew Jackson—see above about the Trail of Tears. Emily’s a descendent of the Aniyvwiyaʔi, which is what we’d call the Cherokee Indians if we weren’t too lazy to spell it.

My Cherokee ancestors lived up in the Appalachian Mountains and got something of a pass, pardon the pun, from forced relocation. Emily’s ancestors walked hundreds of miles, and those who survived ended up in snowstorm earthquake territory, instead of the much more pleasant southeastern hurricane zone they’d enjoyed before.

All because of Christopher Columbus.

You can see why some areas now celebrate Indigenous Peoples’ Day on this day, which is actually that day, because getting a Monday off is way more important than marking an actual date. Personally I’m in favor of renaming it Explorer’s Day, or Discoverer’s Day, or some such. Columbus did make important voyages, after all, even if he was a dick; and it would be a way to learn about all the explorers from all over. Remembering the past, instead of hiding it.

We are a race of explorers, after all, and as a people we tend to crave discovery. To the bottom of the ocean to the ends of space, we need to keep exploring.

For the sake of little green men, hopefully in the future we’ll be nicer about it.

The Real First Thanksgivng … Or Not

SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

Thanksgiving in America continues to be one of the most traditional holidays. It still features the original four hundred year old activities of overeating, football, and complaining about Black Friday.

In the Hunter household, as in all of Indiana and much of the world that’s not outside this country, we battle the overeating. How? By serving food that the rest of the year we hate. Stuffing stuff. Cranberry things. Pumpkin anything. It was good enough for the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag Indians, who the Pilgrims politely invited to share a meal in the new home they’d just stolen from the Wampanoag. The Indians brought a housewarming gift of deer, mostly because they didn’t want to eat cranberries or pumpkin.

But what was actually served at that original celebration? And did they really all sit down at long tables outside, in New England, in November? That’s a recipe for a nice heaping helping of frostbite.

The first Thanksgiving was a three day event, leaving one day each for the meal, football, and Black Friday shopping. The Pilgrims were naturally dismayed to discover no mall or Wal-Mart in sight. Rumor had it there was a Target down the road, but both the trip and the name were a bit more dangerous at the time. They compensated by throwing another feast that third day, during which they discussed the football.

Governor William Bradford sent four men on a fowling mission beforehand. We don’t know for sure what they brought back, but it might have been turkey. It also might have been ducks, geese, or swans, which explains the song they invented about the meal and the entertainment. If it hadn’t taken so much time to memorize it, the song would have been “The Twelve Days of Thanksgiving”. That would have turned our holiday world upside down.

Why are game birds called “fowl”? Because they had no refrigeration. It was a warning: “Eat it fast, before it’s fowl!”

On a related note, this has carried over into football, which during the first Thanksgiving was so primitive that it was watched on a black and white TV, with no remote control, or blimp. Whenever a player gets caught doing something that stinks, it’s called a foul. The spelling was changed during the Great Depression, when a letter shortage caused double U’s to be singled.

             

There was indeed an abundance of cranberries at the First Thanksgiving, mostly because the Natives used them as dye. (Good dye, although it tended to run in the washing machine.) By then the Pilgrims had run out of sugar, so there was no cranberry sauce or relish or anything cranberry. That’s one of the things they were thankful for.

Potatoes were … absent. The Spanish had discovered them in South America, but they weren’t popular with the English yet. Instead they probably had seafood—lobster, clams, oysters, all that stuff you find on the Thanksgiving menu today. Actually, these days the closest we get to that is either oyster dressing or “see? Food!”

Pumpkin? Absolutely: in their pie, their coffee, donuts, milkshakes … kidding—Starbucks didn’t deliver. Actually they did have pumpkins, but no butter or flour for any kind of crust. They may have hollowed out the pumpkins, filled the shell with milk, honey, and spices, and roasted them in hot ashes.

I’m not making this up. I get paid to do this research.

I’m sure you’re all wondering what kind of beer they washed this all down with. I mean, Sam Adams, right? That’s the state beverage of Massachusetts. But no, it turns out they hadn’t had time to make beer, and didn’t yet have apples for cider, so they drank water. This helps explain all those Pilgrim paintings with dour expressions.

Add this to native foods like plums, grapes, leeks, and squash, and you get … *gasp* … a meal that’s good for you! It turns out health food nuts aren’t a new thing; it’s just that back then it was involuntary.

Interestingly, I found no reference from historical records about stuffing being served at the first Thanksgiving. I suspect the Pilgrims planned it, until the Wampanoag heard about the idea:

“So, once we get the birds ready, we’ll mix old bread crumbs and tasteless vegetables together, throw a bunch of spices on them, and stuff them up the fowl butt. Instant side dish!”

“Um … we’ll just take our smallpox blankets and go.”

Imagine how they reacted to fruitcake.

"You dress funny, but we'll be peaceful friends forever. right?"