The Port Royal Habitation in the Snow

I have made my admiration for the Port Royal Habitation well known in the past. Not only does this site deal with a fascinating piece of North American history but they have some of the best historical interpreters I have had the privilege to meet. Believe me, this is not faint praise. Being a museum nerd of the highest order I have met more than my share of interpreters. Also, having spent at least part of my time as a museum interpreter over the past 15 years, I have developed some very definite ideas of what passes for good interpretation. If you have not had the opportunity to visit this site recently, I really would recommend a trip. I would also recommend taking some time to interact with the very knowledgeable staff.

Now, the images in today's post are not how the vast majority of visitors will ever see the Port Royal Habitation. Since this reconstruction of the 1605 settlement of Pierre duGua Sieur de Monts and Samuel Champlain is open to the public in the summer months, I am sure that most visitors leave with an image of perpetual summer in their minds. I figured that I could offer a few images of how this site looks during the coldest part of the off season. Without a doubt it is a little less welcoming at this time of year. While I did not get to chat with any of the friendly interpreters I still enjoy being able to wander the site and bask in the history.

All for now,
RGS

Fannie's Recipes - Part 10

I think that this will be a short post tonight. I had a day bookended with meetings and a bunch of tending to details jammed in the middle so I am probably not at my writerly best this evening. The fact that I have been blindly staring at the screen for the last five minutes would seem to confirm this. At least I am not drooling... much.

What I will offer today is another installment from Fannie O'Dell's handwritten recipe book from the 1880s. These are the actual desserts which were prepared when the O'Dell House was home to a growing family. Today's recipe is a fairly simple cake which Fannie has called "Loaf Cake". Like the other recipes in this collection there are no mixing instructions or directions for how long the cake was to be baked. I have discussed what I believe are the reasons for this lack of detail in an earlier posts. As always, if you do try to bake this cake, please let me know how it turns out.

Loaf Cake

1 cup sugar
1/2 cup butter
1 cup milk
1 egg
1 pint flour
1 cup raisins
1/2 teaspoon soda
1 teaspoon cream of tartar

Today's image is a view of what greeted me upon my return home after this evening's meeting. Believe it or not, twenty minutes of shovelling was a positive thing at the end of the day. The fresh air gave me a bit of a chance to clear my head.

All for now,
RGS

Open-up and say... Ouch

One of the ways in which I try to get museum visitors to appreciate the context of history is to present stories which allow them to feel some empathy for the historic personalities we are discussing. I find that if you can present history on a human level that your audience is much more likely to take interest in the subject. Whatever the topic, if you can get someone to associate their life and feelings with the story, you have a much better chance of getting your message across.

Now, there are different ways of bringing museum visitors into a story. For that matter, I suppose that there would be similar ways to bring a blog reader into the story. Today's archival image is an excellent example of one particular way of connecting with an audience (albeit not one which I often choose to use). This image shows the office of Dr. McLaughlin, the dentist in Annapolis Royal at the turn of the twentieth century. Even writing the words "dentist at the turn of the twentieth century" make me start to tense up a little bit. This feeling of tension is the secret of this image. For understandable reasons people do not like pain or the memory of pain. Yet feelings of tension and pain are shared by all humans past and present. This knowledge allows you to draw connections of common experience between your audience and the story.

Imagine the ten year old who has had to wake up early and ride into Annapolis Royal on the back of her parents wagon. A tooth has been bothering her for weeks and she feels a sting every time the wagon hits a bump. They tie the horse outside the Union Bank on St George Street (now the Royal Bank) and climb the stairs to the office on the second floor. Each odd creek and groan of the stairs makes the child that much more apprehensive. After waiting in adjoining room for what seems an eternity she is finally called into the room with the dentist. Looking around the room she sees a fairly pleasant looking man with a moustache standing behind a chair. He says something reassuring to her but the beside him there is a tray filled with odd looking tools. Even worse, on the other side is a foot powered dental drill. At this point she would probably be too nervous to notice the wonderful pressed tin ceilings the room. Suppressing an urge to bolt for the door she settles into the chair and hears "Now this won't hurt a bit".

All for now,
RGS

Another Pack of Heritage Hounds

We have just finished digitizing another large archival collection at the O'Dell House Museum. Nathan Sarty, who is working on a contract with us, has done some wonderful work by making our archival collections more accessible for researchers and anyone who is interested in photographic history of our community. I must admit that he has also made my life much easier by providing me with the fodder for many future blog posts. It is much easier to fight back potential writers block when you have a deep reservoir of archival images to draw upon.

The photographs in this post were taken by photographer Frederick Harris of Annapolis Royal. Most of his photographs were taken around the turn of the twentieth century. While I was looking through these images I noticed something in common with the Samuel Weare photography collection which we recently finished scanning. Both of these collections have a smattering of dog images. What I find interesting is that these dogs are not just an element in the background. These dogs either feature prominently or are the subject the image. From my experience, this is not common in archival photography. I must admit that I like the look on the face of the dog who is getting his ear scratched. He is obviously enjoying the experience.

All for now,
RGS

Who is that Guy?

This is an example of a post which started out in one direction and ended up going someplace else entirely. Originally, I had planned to write something about the history of Clifton House on St George Street in Annapolis Royal. This large building with the gambrel roof once stood on the water side of the road at the spot where St George Street makes a turn at the corner of Victoria Street. I was planning to look at the architecture of the building and probably try to make some sort of lyrical statement about the interesting front door. When I write this sort of post I usually enlarge elements of the photograph to get a close look before I start writing. This allows me to get a feel for a building which, in this case, burned in 1930. While I was going through the process of looking for interesting elements of the photograph I suddenly stopped dead in my tracks. With my mouth somewhat agape I uttered the statement "Who is that guy?"

To make things a bit more clear, I have enlarged the section of the photograph featuring the "guy" in question. There he stands leaning on his walking stick and wearing a fairly stylish suit. He seems to be in his 40s and, as would be common at the time, has an impressive set of sideburns and a large mustache. But wait, what is that on his head? Is he wearing a top hat or a bowler like most of his Annapolis Royal contemporaries? No, he is wearing a pith helmet. Now, I realize that this photograph was probably taken around the time of the Boer War (1899-1902) when the pith helmet was at its stylistic peak in various British colonies but, it was still not something I was expecting to see on the streets of Annapolis Royal. Perhaps I would expect this attire on an explorer in jungles of Africa, on a bureaucrat working in India or in a trendy London club but not really on the streets of Annapolis Royal. I can't even claim that he was a member of the British military since the garrison at Fort Anne had left in 1854. I suppose plausible explanation is that this was a local citizen or a visitor who was trying to play the role of the colonial gentleman.

The pith helmet itself originates in India. Helmets were made from the pith of a swamp plant known as the sola and later from cork. The idea of the helmet was to have a lightweight and breathable garment which would help the wearer control their body temperature. Even in the warmer parts of the British Empire a gentleman did not want to sweat. The pith helmet was first used by the military but was quickly adopted by overheated civilians. Could the man at the Clifton House in the dark suit simply be overheated?

All for now,
RGS

Pictures of the Sinclair Inn Museum

One of the problems in running around with a camera with a large memory card is that I sometimes forget to download the images. Most of the time I get the pictures off the camera fairly quickly but, once and a while a batch slip through. This is the case with the images in today's post. I rescued this collection from my memory card when I decided to see if there was anything I had forgotten. These pictures of the Sinclair Inn Museum were taken toward the end of our operating season in October. I had made a trip up to the site hoping to take some shots of activities and features of the museum promotional purposes at some future date. Little did I know that I would be digging the images out months in the future.

This summer (2010) the Soullard House section of the Sinclair Inn is celebrating its 300th anniversary. This is a fairly monumental anniversary for any house in Nova Scotia. The only other documented wood framed building to reach the 300 year mark is the 1708 deGannes Cosby House on upper St George Street in Annapolis Royal. Together with the powder magazine at Fort Anne (1708), these are the only surviving structures from the French regime in Acadia.

The Soullard House was built by Jean Baptist Soullard and his Acadian wife Louise Comeau. For those who have not been to the museum, the Soullard House is the section of the museum which faces St George Street. The Soullard's residency was not long lived. In the fall of 1710 Acadie fell to the British after a week long siege. By 1712 the Soullards decided to move to Quebec. In 1781, this building was combined with the neighbouring 1710 Skene House to create something resembling the current structure. We are currently in the process of figuring out what sort of activities and events we will have to mark this occasion.

One event I can already mention is that we will be having a 1710 style market in the parking lot beside the museum on the afternoon of June 5th. At this point, we are looking for people who would be interested in displaying traditional skills and crafts or selling period appropriate wares at this event. Fell free to leave a comment or contact me by email if you would be interested.

All for now,
RGS

Down on Deck - Part 2

In an earlier post I wrote about an archival image in the Annapolis Heritage Society's collection of a woman standing on the deck of ship. Until fairly recently I had thought that image to be solitary photograph. While it was a very interesting image, I was not expecting to find a mate. Because of this, I was thrilled to see today's image when I was looking through a collection which we have recently digitized. While taken from a different perspective, this is clearly the same vessel and the same woman on deck. This photograph was taken bu Samuel Newton Weare circa 1900.

Unlike many of the vessels which made the Annapolis Royal region their home, this one was not for fishing. Looking toward the bow we can see that this is a square rigger. Since the other masts are not visible it is difficult to tell whether this is a bark, a brig or a ship. Despite the style of the vessel, we know that it would be used to carry cargo to ports around the globe. Most likely it was a part of the triangular trade which existed between Nova Scotia, the Caribbean and Europe. By the time this image was taken around 1900 Nova Scotia would have been exporting lumber, salt fish and some fruit. From the Caribbean, the main products which were imported were sugar and rum. The European market provided a wide range of products including textiles, furniture and porcelain. Sadly, inexpensive salt fish from what is now Atlantic Canada propped up slavery in parts of the Caribbean. This inexpensive source of protein meant that slaves could be kept and fed the worst the fish caught and salted on our shores. Of course, slaves were given the poorest quality of salt fish available.

What I like about this image is the scale of the vessel. Everything is so large that the three people standing on the deck are almost an afterthought. The size is actually not actually that grand when you consider that this would be their home for months or years at a time. Here they would fight storms, ice and doldrums. Sailors could expect to experience both the sadness of losing crew members as well as the joy of finally passing through the Digby Gut and making for home.

All for now,
RGS