The Chew Turkies

In the past few months, there have been an extraordinary number of turkey references in the Chew collection. In celebration of the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, Leah and I decided to share some of them here.

The first document is selected from a larger group of surveys, agreements, and correspondence regarding a tract of land the Chews owned called "Turkey Nest."



I found this initially interesting because many of the tracts in Delaware and Maryland have "Neck" as part of the name (e.g. "Rich Neck"). I assume that the "neck" refers to the areas where land juts out into a body of water. When I first glanced at this group of documents, I thought this tract was called "Turkey Neck."

A more personal reference to turkeys in the collection comes from Samuel Chew's correspondence. He owned a farm in Maryland that was operated by John Mason. John experienced many upheavals in his work as a farmer--one of the more dramatic situations involved the barn, sheds, house, and hay catching fire. He lost most of his farm, but saved the animals and some of the structures. A relatively minor incident, by comparison, was the death of several turkeys. In his letter to Samuel Chew, he writes, "You may remember my showing you some Turkies I purchased. To my utter dismay, I found. on going out in the morning Two of my pets. dead. Upon investigating I discovered the painters had been here the day before. + had emptied the remains of paint on the ground...the Turkies had eaten too freely of white lead--no other casualties have occurred." (Dec. 1873) A sad tale, indeed.









































All silliness aside, we hope you have a wonderful holiday. A little Chew-inspired card from Leah:

The telegram as directive

Within Anne Sophia Penn Chew's collection of correspondence are a large number of telegrams. This communication tool was widely employed by Samuel and Mary Johnson Brown Chew. Samuel and Mary split their time between Cliveden and Mary's family home in the city, so their belongings were housed in both places. Many of Mary's letters to Anne describe the day's events, give reports about the children, and, inevitably, ask for some article of clothing to be sent or some task to be completed at Cliveden in her absence. The telegrams serve as quick reminders to send this or that, notify Anne that the family will be coming to tea or dinner, or ask her to prepare something. Though Anne was not generally doing these things herself (she likely would have had her servants do them), the letters and telegrams have a tone of direction and expectation. Anne may have been living independently, but her life seems to have been lived in service to her nephews and their families.

In one of the first telegrams I read, Anne's nephew Ben requests that she have a warm bath for him in the afternoon:

An audacious request, in my opinion, but not out of the ordinary.


Other noteworthy telegrams include a request from Mary to send salad "at once" and another from Samuel to send "a quantity of celery and some lettuce."


Another odd request reads "Do not send laundress tomorrow. Send David's gun by Charles tomorrow. Mary J.B. Chew"


And finally, this request: "Please send some linen and underclothing today."


This last request is, it turns out, quite poignant. Samuel Chew was, at this time, taking care of his brother Ben before his death. In one 1885 letter, Samuel writes to Anne that Ben had lost all control of himself, and that he had used up all of the linen and underclothing in the house because of the constant changing that was required. It is unclear what disease finally caused Ben's death, but the symptoms Samuel describes include inability to express himself or understand what was happening around him and the inability to control his bodily functions. These letters (and other series throughout the collection) offer graphic representations of disease and care for the sick in the 18th and 19th centuries.

An Old Approach in Conservation

We came across a few interesting documents in the past few weeks. It was not the information provided within the documents necessarily, but the conservation method performed upon the documents.

The first, front and back:


And the second:



This sewing is an intriguing non-adhesive conservation method that has actually held up fairly well in both documents over the years!

The Wilson Lands

Two weeks ago, among the Chew papers, I came across stacks of deed polls, each one of which effectively transferred 400 acres of land from its original owner to James Wilson. For those of you unfamiliar with Wilson, he is one of only six framers to have signed both the Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution. In addition, he was also a member of the first Supreme Court appointed by President Washington, and, beyond that, instrumental in the formation of the Pennsylvania Constitution of 1790. Surprisingly, with all these founding credentials, he is still a relative unknown. A large part of that anonymity can be attributed to the documents I found, because they act as a representative sample of the vice that likely cost Wilson his founding reputation – land speculation.

To be sure, Wilson was only one of many leading figures from his generation that speculated in the “undeveloped” lands of the American West. Washington, Patrick Henry, Robert Morris, Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton, Ben Franklin, along with many others, all were heavily involved in the practice that historian Alan Taylor maintains, “consumed the eighteenth-century American elite.” (Writing Early American History, 2005) Like Wilson, but perhaps not to the same degree, most of these speculators experienced the pitfalls of buying land on the early American frontier.

A good deal of their problems stemmed from the quantities of land they attempted to purchase and the way purchases were financed. In simplified terms, speculators typically tried to purchase massive tracts of land on credit – in many ways the same type of risk-taking that has resulted in our present day financial crisis. Using a process known as leverage, speculators bought land with mainly borrowed money. They acted under the assumption that, as land prices rose, they could then sell the land for more than the purchase price, thus being able to repay the original loan and pocket a profit. As with our own financial crisis, this type of risky behavior created an extremely unstable economic environment. When land prices were rising, an immense profit could be made, but when the prices were stagnant or falling, the original investment became a drain as borrowed money came due – essentially the same problem that took down Lehman Bros. and Bear Stearns.

Because Wilson’s land speculation rose to the point of obsession, he was particularly hard hit during the economic depression of 1796-97. Both he and Robert Morris, to name just two, spent time in prison because of massive land debts; in the process staining their reputation for posterity.

As for the multiple deed polls contained within the Chew papers, two questions arise: How did Wilson acquire all this land; and how did the Chew family end up with these documents? I am not certain of the answers to these questions at this time, but some clues are available within the documents themselves. First, the lands fell within Allegheny and Luzerne counties of Pennsylvania. Also relevant, the deed polls date from only two years,1794 and 1796. Additionally, the original warrant dates for when the land was first claimed by a private owner, all fall within the year 1792. It is important to note that this was just after the Pennsylvania legislature passed an act regulating the sale of land by limiting the number of acres an individual could buy; this, in an effort to keep lands newly open for sale out of the hands of speculators which could have effectively denied Wilson access.



However, if Elizabeth K. Henderson is correct, Wilson may have turned to underhanded means. According to her 1936 article on "The Northwestern Lands of Pennsylvania, 1790-1812," (PMHB, Vol. 60) she claims that Wilson got around the intent of the law by taking out land warrants under "fictitious names" and then transferring the land to his own name by way of the deed polls. That claim is difficult to confirm from the documents available. Another possibility is that Wilson, or his agent, may have obtained the lands from Revolutionary war soldiers who first obtained them as payment for their military service in lieu of monetary remuneration. In any case, Wilson ended up with these lands.

How the Chew family obtained the documents is, once again, uncertain, but likely has its roots in the massive borrowing Wilson did to finance his land ventures. It seems at least possible that Wilson borrowed money from Benjamin Chew and when he or his executors (Wilson passed in 1798) could not repay the debt, land title was transferred instead. Other evidence within the collection, such as account books and personal correspondence, may hold the key to solving this mystery. The answer to these questions, and many others await the interested researcher.

Posted by Dean Williams, Chew Papers volunteer

Home remedies for cold and flu season

In the days before pharmaceuticals, remedies involving food and herbs were often used to augment medical treatments like bleeding and cupping. Many common ailments were treated with prescriptions of lager and port.

In a letter from Elizabeth Johnson Brown to Anne Sophia Penn Chew, she includes her recipe for Onion Syrup, which appears to have been used for respiratory illnesses:

"Tell Mary in making the Onion Syrup to take 4 or 5 onions, pare & slice them, place them between two deep soup plates, alternately a layer of onions, & a light layer of Brown Sugar, and place it on the end of the range; the syrup will gradually ooze out, it is to be taken from the plate by the teaspoonful, and a couple of tea-spoonfuls given about every hour or two....and bathe the breast with Goose grease that has a few drops of Turpentine in it...." [n.d.]


This is just one of a few home remedies used by the Chews. Others include rhubarb tincture (for digestion), rabbit fat (for swelling), and molasses (for sore nipples).

Union and Secession

Just as the Civil War was beginning, Samuel Chew and Mary Johnson Brown were planning their wedding. In the following letter to Eliza M. Mason (married to VA Senator James Murray Mason), Samuel Chew laments that the Masons will not be able to attend his marriage. "I expect to be married on the 20th of June. The mails between you and us, I fear, close tomorrow, and I cannot let the last opportunity of asking you to my wedding pass...though I cannot hope to see you on that occasion. Would to God that our unhappy Country could by that time be in such Peace and tranquility as to allow you...to be with me."

Later in the letter, his focus shifts to the national events that separated their family: "The whole country is full of military ardor. The genius of our People changed in four days from a plodding--moneymaking race to warriors.... Would...that we could hope for 'a more perfect Union.' ... It were good for neither section that one should be victorious and the other broken. The Power of the one must be as fatal to itself as would its misfortunes be to the vanquished....God forbid our Nation this Great Calamity." (Samuel Chew to Eliza M. Mason, May 30, 1861)





In a letter earlier in May of 1861, Henry B. Chew recounts the effects of regional conflicts in Maryland:
"I hardly need tell you of the utter impossibility every where existing in the collection of money Either in way of rent or of other debts owing--Such a financial crisis never before existed, and God only knows when it will terminate." This line rings eerily familiar in 2008, as the stock market dips lower and the Great Depression is invoked almost daily.

Given the financial situation, Henry advises his son that the planned wedding should be modest, and their expenditures minimal.

"My mind is relieved by what you say of the time of your wedding + that my suggestions are likely to be carried out, to avoid expenditure of every dollar that can be saved...at this time of such financial embarrassment. We shall with pleasure welcome dear Mary to Epsom and do the best we can under existing circumstances to render her visit a happy one, although I cannot now have the house so re-furbished as I intended....[I]t cannot be expected that we can have any large festive entertainment at Epsom." (May 16, 1861)



In another letter, closer to the wedding date, Henry B. Chew writes again to Samuel about the financial crisis and his thoughts about the upcoming wedding:
"I am confident that Mr. Brown has good sence enough to understand our true position + to appreciate the correctness of my strenuous advice as to our endeavoring to avoid the expenditure of every dollar that can in any decent manner be saved, on account of the universal distress in the pecuniary relations of all...and considering the uncertainty of the period when peace + prosperity will be restored to our land + nation....I also think Mr. Brown will concur with me in saying you + Mary should not have your happiness interfered with or diminished by any possible thought of postponement of your marriage...nor by your being advised to forego the display + expense of such a fashionable + festive marriage as might have been anticipated at any other time." (June 6, 1861)

As I read through these letters, especially in the context of our current financial situation in this country and throughout the world, I am reminded that people have weathered these fears and uncertainties before. While we may need to pare down to the basics, history shows that we can rebound from these difficulties if we remain flexible.

P.S.

Samuel Chew Jr. (1871-1919) wrote quite a number of letters to his father, primarily from boarding school, but also from locations abroad and during times when Samuel Chew Sr. was traveling. His letters reflect a genuine love and respect for his father and the rest of their family, while also providing an amusing perspective on the mind and occupations of a pre-teen boy of the 1880s. This letter contains one of the best post-scripts I have ever read: "P.S. I have had one misfortune in playing with fire crackers so far and that is setting a tree on fire, trying to make an opossum get out of it's hole." (July 4 [1882])



In a letter from August 23, 1881, Samuel writes very sweetly: "Dearest, I wish you lovely Roses --ect. I do not think they ever get picked ecept when Harry or Mr. Carr picks them--sometimes my eye catches on some roses and then I think how you would pick them or have them picked and then I pick some and wish you were there to help me." He then laments the condition of President Garfield: "I am sorry to say that on Saturday the President was doing quite well and yesterday he went down to gloomy, and today the case is still critticall." His post-script reads "P.S. I hope you will be careful in assending and desending mountains." His father was, at the time, traveling in Europe, and was perhaps taking in some mountain air to improve his health. Samuel Sr. was often on trips to various springs taking the healing waters.

In another letter, Samuel Jr. discusses being scolded at dinner, which caused him to leave the dinner table early. He sends his father love and signs off with the post-script "P.S. Charles shot Tim last night." No further comment.


His sense of humor makes these letters a joy to read. There are many more gems in this series of correspondence.