Friday, February 3, 2012

Early Memphis History

I am writing this post in order to have a spot where I can find all this info that I have collected over the years in one spot, and not have to retrace my steps all over the place.

The internet is really useful in researching little tidbits of history that one runs into here and there.  Memphis has so many stories that most people don't know much about.  Hundreds of years ago, long before the Spanish and French explorers, there was a thriving city of the Mound-builders.  They had trade routes that extended as far as the South West and into Mexico.  DeSoto passed through on his exploration of the Mississippi River, and the French had a trading fort here in the 1700's.

In the early 1800's Andrew Jackson, Isaac Winchester, and John Overton came out from Nashville and laid out the plans for the city of Memphis, to be named for the great Egyptian city on the Nile.  The city was established in 1819.  After the Civil War the city was one of the fastest growing cities in the nation, and wealthy, too.  Memphis had a Mardi Gras tradition second only to New Orleans.  One Mardi Gras, the large fountain at Court Square (which still is there) was filled with champaign.

By the 1870's about half the population were newcomers from the country and immigrants from Europe.  But a series of yellow fever epidemics in the late 1870's-1880's decimated the population.  In the epidemics about half the population died, and of the remaining half, half of them were sick.  Hardest hit were the European immigrants, which gave Memphis a long-standing reputation of being unhealthy and a bad place to live.  From that point, most of Memphis's growth came from migration from the surrounding rural areas, and the primary story of Memphis became one of black and white.

There are a couple of very interesting stories from the early days of Memphis that were seldom (or ever) mentioned when I was growing up.  Only in the past 10 or 15 years have there been any newspaper articles or other write ups of these matters:  the story of Frances Wright and Nashoba, and the story of the story of the first mayor of Memphis, and his wife.




This is a picture of Frances Wright (Fanny, as she was known), who founded the intentional community of Nashoba Plantation in what is now Germantown, Tennessee, based on the principles of racial and sexual equality.  It lasted from 1825 through about 1830 (longer than the more well known New Harmony Community founded by Robert Owen, which inspired her), when the remaining inhabitants were resettled in the independent Black republic of Haiti.  Fanny Wright's grand idea was to eliminate slavery by purchasing slaves, having them learn self supporting skills at Nashoba, working and earning money to finance the purchase of more slaves, freeing them, and repatriating them to Haiti and Liberia.  She also advocated full equality of men and women and free universal public education.  Fanny was a prolific writer, her works being read and commented on by Thomas Jefferson and later by Walt Whitman.  She was a good friend of General Lafayette, accompanying him on his trip to the U.S. to visit Thomas Jefferson.  Fanny herself had left Nashoba after falling ill with Malaria.

Now, when I was growing up, although there was a historic marker way north in the county that stated succinctly something about the existence of the "Nashoba Commune, which was a failure", there were no displays of artifacts, no archeological digs (the house itself burned in the 1970's, having been rental property for years and years with no indication or designation as to its history), and no reference to it any school class that I was in.  During the past 10 years I have seen a little bit more written about it, as there was an effort to get a historic marker for placement in Germantown (the existing marker is not on the site at all), which was denied by the state of Tennessee supposedly because of the marker in the north part of the county.  From the time of Nashoba Plantation, up through my childhood, Fanny Wright was vilified as advocating "free love" and "race mixing".




This is a sketch of Nashoba Plantation from Frances Trollope's book "Domestic Manners of the Americans", published in 1832.  Tollope was a good friend of Wright's, and  visited and stayed with her in Nashoba in 1827 while she was traveling in the United States.

In the research to obtain the elusive historic marker, there was the tantalizing comment that Frances Wright was pretty much ostracized by the Memphis gentry (such as it was), except for the wife of Mayor Winchester, who was her only friend.  Marcus Winchester had sold Fanny some of the land that would become Nashoba.  I embarked on an internet search to try to find out more about the wife of Marcus Brutus Winchester, Fanny Wright's only friend in Memphis, who would ride out 15 miles in the country to visit.  I remembered an article I had read in our local bar association newsletter some years ago that made reference to Marcus Winchester bringing home a wife from New Orleans, who was shunned by Memphis society and I started from there.

Marcus was the son of Isaac Winchester, one of the "founders" of Memphis.  Previous to the Memphis land deal with Andrew Jackson and John Overton, Isaac had already been involved in laying out and establishing the city of Cairo, Illinois.  Isaac actually named the city Ca Ira -- for the rallying cry of the French Revolution, but it was later morphed into "Cairo".  Isaac was not only a supporter of the French Revolution, but he also named his children after populist heroes:  the siblings of Marcus Brutus Winchester included Brutus, Selina, Lucilius, Almire, Napoleon, and Valerius Publicola.

Marcus Winchester
Marcus Brutus Winchester took over Isaac's business and real estate interests in the Memphis area and was a wealthy and respected merchant.  In 1823 he made a trip down to New Orleans and returned to Memphis with a wife:  Marie Louise Amirante Loiselle, sometimes referred to as "Mary".  Memphis society was shocked.  Not because she was French, but because she was a "woman of color".  Interracial marriages had only just been made illegal in Memphis in 1822.  It is said that he met Marie Loiselle while on a business trip to St. Louis, where she was the beautiful daughter of a "mullatto" fur trader.  She had been educated in France and was well read, fluent in French, and of impeccable deportment. They fell in love and returned by riverboat -- going down to New Orleans for the marriage ceremony.  Winchester was elected as the first mayor of Memphis, serving one term from 1827 to 1829, ultimately becoming less popular because of his and his wife's association with Nashoba Plantation and Frances Wright.  Frances' sister Camille had a house in town, next door to that of the Winchesters.  The Winchesters' house stood about where the Pyramid (soon to be a Bass Pro Shop)now stands in downtown Memphis, overlooking the river.


Marcus served as Post Master for Memphis for many years, but ultimately in 1837 the city of Memphis passed an ordinance prohibiting "the keeping of colored wives within the city limits".  The Winchester family then moved to a tract of land outside the city limits known as Muskogee Camp.  Marie died two years later in 1839.  Marcus and Marie had 8 children:  Laura, Robert (named after New Harmony Utopian community founder Robert Dale Owen), Frances (named after Nashoba founder Frances Wright), Louis, Selima, Loiselle, Valeria, and Lisia.  The Memphis 1830 census lists the Winchester children as "non-white".  By the 1840 census, after Marie's death and after Marcus remarried, the Winchester offspring are listed as "white", and apparently successfully crossed the "color line".

Many descendants of Marcus and Marie Winchester still live in the Memphis area, some quite prominent, including Memphis City Council Member Bill Boyd, and attorney Lee Winchester.  I read comments by some descendants that say they were told growing up, that Marie Winchester was Native American, never Black.  I remember research being done when I was an Anthropology student and on into Law School, indicating it was statistically unlikely for all of the "white" people claiming Native American heritage in the south in the 1960's-90's to in fact be descended from Native Americans, because the population was just not here.  That in fact, in many cases Black heritage was far more likely (given the population numbers) and had probably been euphamized in to Native heritage, which in the south was far more acceptable to the white community in the 60's-90's than black heritage.  This is born out by my personal experience as an adoption attorney and dealing with white birth mothers in the 1980's, also noticed and commented on by area adoption social workers, where the white birth mothers of biracial children would allege that the birth father of the child they wanted to place was Hispanic, never African American, despite the fact that the Hispanic population of Memphis in the 1970's, '80's, and 90's was minuscule.

Sources: "Notable Black Memphians", Miriam DeCosta-Willis, 2008; "Memphis in Black and White", Beverly Bord, 2003; "Hellhound on His Tail", Hampton Sides, 2010; Commercial Appeal May 26, 2009; "American Plague", Molly Crosby, 2007; "Marcus and Davy", Memphis Daily News May 13, 2011; Tennessee Encyclopedia of History and Culture; www.memphishistory.net; memphishistory.com; findagrave.com; ancestry.com

Thursday, February 2, 2012

February Calendar


I am participating in the 366 Calendar Challenge on Kate Crane's The Katherine Wheel.  I prepared my February pages over the course of the past week.

I chose a Chinese theme because 1. I'm just not that fond of Valentine's Day; 2.  I tend to think of Chinese New Year in February (although I know it was in late January this year); and 3.  I had a Chinese newspaper I had brought home from our monthly Altered Book Club the other month, as well as some other Chinese themed bits and pieces -- a postcard from the Memphis Kadampa Study Group, some panels from a tea box, some asian themed napkins or tissue somethings or another.

left side

right side
Here are my January pages all filled in.


I am not by nature much of a journaler, so I wondered if I could sustain this for a month -- but I found it to be no problem at all.  In fact, I enjoyed each evening reflecting on ONE thing that made the day special or significant (or even ordinary):  missing Borders when I go to Barnes and Noble; an exceptionally windy day -- or an exceptionally warm day (72 degrees in January? really?; a bluebird couple at my feeders one morning.  I enjoy the "compactness" of this project.  It reminds me of making inchies (little one inch by one inch collages or art).

linked also to Sunday Showcase

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

January Garden


Here are some shots of things in and from my vegetable garden, growing in January!  With a bit more foresight, a bit more planning, and a bit more mindfulness and care during the ups and downs of the temperatures during a mid south winter, I think I could have loads of fresh parsley, chard, kale, broccoli, beets, carrots, and lettuce, not to mention sprouts grown inside of course.

sorrel
The problem with growing a garden through the winter here is twofold.  First, plants put on growth not just as a response to warm temperatures, but also as a response to day length -- hours of daylight.  So having a good winter garden depends on planting the seeds or setting out plants at a time when they can still get enough day length to put on good growth before the day length decreases to the point where the plants just mark time until the days start lengthening again.  Here in the mid south, that means planting the fall garden in September, when our daytime temperatures are often in the upper 90's, sometimes even triple digits!  Those are pretty brutal conditions for a baby seed or plant to contend with, especially ones that do best in the cooler temperatures of spring in fall -- which are exactly the ones that need to be planted at that inopportune time.
stir fry greens
parsley
blueberries in bud
strawberry bed
Here was my harvest this last week of January.

I think a nice light stir fry will be on the menu tonight.

Monday, January 30, 2012

True Confessions

Yes, it's time to fess up.  A few weird things known only by a few of my closest friends.  Maybe not even them.

#1.  Last night I made baked beans with hot dogs and bacon.  I make this probably once a month or so.  Usually whenever we have some leftover baked beans from getting barbecue from our local 'cue shop, The Commissary, I make this.  But I've also been known to open some cans of baked beans and take it from there.


I add a bunch of stuff to the beans (whether they are from The Commissary or the pantry).  Onions, peppers, ketchup, mustard, molasses, barbecue sauce, chipotle raspberry sauce, brown sugar, anything and everything.  Plunk those dogs on top, cover (or wrap) with slices of mostly cooked bacon, sprinkle more brown sugar on top and stick in the 375 degree oven for 40 minutes or so.  A casserole of salty sweet bubbly goodness.  This was my favorite dinner when I was little.  The addition of blueberry muffins on the side made this a special birthday dinner when I was growing up.  A kid's dream dinner.  But my youngest is now 14.  And the funny thing is, my kids have never really liked it.  And can you get more politically incorrect than liking hot dogs AND bacon?



#2.  Last summer when our neighbors across the street got ready to move to Pennsylvania and had to clean out their freezer to sell it, they offered us all of the venison and duck that was filling their freezer.  Well, I had to say yes to free food!  So now I have venison and duck in my freezer.  Where they have been since July.  I have no idea how to cook venison and duck.  I can't tell what cuts they are until they are thawed.  They aren't labeled (except with the names and addresses of the various hunters who gave this bounty to our neighbor, who was a pastor).  It's all too overwhelming.  The few attempts I have made to deal with this have ended in failure.  I have found that you cannot simply use any old duck recipe to cook WILD duck.  But yet I can't get rid of this stuff.  Instead, as I dive into the freezer in search of chicken, ground beef, frozen malabar spinach, blueberries, green beans, etc., the ducks sit in the way, occasionally falling out in front of me, but always reproaching my failure to embrace this opportunity.  Well, I have the 2 remaining whole ducks out and in the stock pot as I speak, with "wild duck gumbo" on the menu for tonight.  Which will hopefully be better than my last attempt at the ducks, wherein I attempted to roast them and found out NEVER EVER roast a wild duck.

trusty red stock pot


ducks in the stock pot
cooked ducks to wrestle the meat off of

the duck meat

beginnings of wild duck gumbo
Forgot to take a picture of the finished gumbo.  It was pretty good.  I added the duck stock back in to the roux, onions, peppers, celery and smoked sausage you see - the stock and ducks had been cooked with garlic, onion, celery, pepper, thyme, worcester sauce,and salt.  Also added in some sliced okra from the freezer, as well as the duck meat.  Served it in bowls with a big scoop of brown basmati rice in the center.  It was actually pretty good for dinner, and we'll have some for lunch tomorrow and some for the freezer.

#3.  Also freezer related.  But I will spare you pictures.  I do believe a family's deepest darkest secrets may be discerned from the contents of their freezer (or at least insight into things one has difficulty with processing -- both physically and conceptually).  I have a placenta in the freezer.  When we had our now 14 year old at home, with good friends and midwife in attendance, I knew the house we were in was not our "forever" house and that we would likely move.  Which we did within six months.  So rather than plant the placenta in the garden, we kept it in the freezer to await planting in our dream acreage.  Which of course we never got.  We moved from one suburban subdivision to our current one -- and our yard was extremely dreary when we first moved here.  It just didn't seem right to plant the placenta in a garden that I didn't intend to have the rest of my days, so in the freezer it stayed.  And here it is 14 years later.  With no particular plans or prospects to move (although I still hope to end up near a beach at some point).  And I've kind of lost interest in the placenta (it seemed so IMPORTANT 14 years ago!), but it doesn't seem right or respectful to chunk it in the garbage.  What to do what to do.

I know I'm not the only one with a placenta in the freezer, because the same neighbors who gave us the duck in their freezer also accidentally gave us the wife's placenta from her home birth a few years earlier.  I returned it to them.  I sure don't need two placentas in my freezer.

And that's it for this edition of "True Confessions".

Sunday, January 29, 2012

The Land is Waking


The Land is beginning to wake here.  Our temperatures are up and down, in the upper 20's some nights, but rising to near 70 degrees several days later, rain every 3 or 4 days.  In our dining room I have a plate that holds some small bud vases with twigs cut from the forsythia and pussy willow in the yard.


We will have daffodils in bloom this week I think.


Likewise, the hellebores (so close to the ground they are easy to miss).

Perennials beginning to wake up.  This is the giant coneflower, that will ultimately be 7 or 8 feet tall.


Self seeded hollyhocks!


Back in the house -- success in bringing the Christmas Cactus back in to bloom.


And my 25 cent "rescue" African Violet from Lowe's last winter seems to enjoy our south facing kitchen  window also.


Yes, I can definitely feel it.  The pulsating life force oozing from the Land.

Linking to Cielo's House in the Roses , Boogie Board CottageHome and Garden Thursday

Thursday, January 26, 2012

It's raining outside so the fairies came in . . .

We are having a couple of very wet, sloppy days outside, but spring is hovering just beneath the earth's surface and even bursting through in a few spots.   I noticed our resident fairies must have woken up and come inside to escape the rain.  I found them playing in the dining room.








Monday, January 16, 2012

Possumhaw


Remember that fabulous full moon last week?  The Wolf Moon -- or in the Choctaw/Chickasaw languages of the Mississippi River valley lands -- Neshoba Moon (Neshoba or Nashoba meaning "wolf"). It was so incredibly bright, shining through the January bare branches of the trees in our front yard.  If you saw the moon last week, you know this picture doesn't begin to do it justice.  See the tree with the red berries on the left?  That is my favorite tree in the winter time -- a possum haw, they call it here.


Ilex decidua.  A deciduous holly.  Haw is an old-timey word for fruit, so I guess possums may be fond of it.


I love how the red berries stand out against the bark and the green of the pines and cedars.


It's especially striking when there is snow.  I bought this tree at a native plant sale and planted it when it was a 24 inch baby.  Over the years I worried that it might need a pollinator (like many hollies) or that I had bought a male tree (did you know that some tree species have separate male and female trees?  Hollies, and Gingkos), because it did not set any fruit for many years.  This year is the heaviest berry set I have had on it.

I've noticed this winter that the trees and shrubs have held on to their berries very late in the season.  Usually by mid January the birds, squirrels, raccoons and possums have left the branches very bare.  I haven't had as many birds at my feeders this winter either.  I wonder if it is due to our cats (although there have always been cats in the neighborhood, and this is the third winter Ophelia and Belle have lived at our house).  Santa brought the cats very elegant sparkly collars with bells this Christmas, but the collar was seriously irritating Ophelia's throat so we removed hers.