Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Graphic Novel Update: War Wounds and Prosthetics of World War I


Wounded Veteran's Mask,
Held in place by a pair of Spectacles.
Another update in the push towards creating a rich and involved story which explores many aspects of not only the second World War, but the fallout from the first.

World War I marked a single terrible reality for many veterans- With improved accuracy with explosives and the rise of large-caliber weaponry came an unprecedented level of injury to the body. According to Fred Albee, a contemporary French surgeon, soldiers failed to comprehend the power of these weapons, and would expose themselves to fire. Those who survived their wounds were often left scarred beyond recognition for the remainder of their days.

With these wounds came not only the painful scars of memory, but a return to a society who rejected the soldiers, overwhelmed and often disgusted by the cruel disfigurements left by the war. Suddenly, every wound was a crater- every face nearly unrecognizable as belonging to that of a human being. It became the necessary duty of surgeons to pioneer plastic surgery, repairing not only flesh wounds and severed muscle, but to repair the multitude of bone structures that had been annihilated, restoring humanity to the crushed visages of countless veterans.

New cosmetic surgeries were invented, as well as the use of prosthesis. Surgeons such as Sir Harold Delf Gillies (often considered the father of plastic surgery) opened shops in England and Paris which specialized in taking plaster molds of the damaged faces, and sculpting new ones, working by photograph to impose a "restored" face to the victim. Working from techniques refined in Germany and Belgium, Gillies and his colleagues also developed skin graft surgeries. Gillies also took advantage of some 2,000 disfigured veterans of the Battle of the Somme to publish a book of photography on the horrors of facial wounds in this new War. Considered to be the first recipient of plastic surgery, former naval Officer Walter Yeo received a skin graft from Gillies, which in a series of surgical procedures crafted a new face, which albeit crude, restored Yeo to some semblance of his former self. Yeo, a British officer, had served in the Battle of Jutland in May of 1916 aboard the HMS Warspite, and had lost most of the skin on his face, including his eyelids. In stages, Yeo received grafts from other undamaged parts of his epidermis, resulting in a mask of sorts which slowly repaired the damage.
Walter Yeo after Extensive Surgery.


Alas, these grafts only served to repair skin-deep wounds- and many wounds were much, much deeper. As a result, the widespread usage of meticulously crafted masks was common- done in shops across Europe.

Perhaps the most prolific contributor to this new prosthetic trend was Bostonian artist
Anna Coleman Ladd, who applied her expertise as a sculptor to cast the delicate facial appliances. Ladd opened "The Studio for Portrait Masks," an enormous operation in Paris which serviced countless veterans of the Great War. Crafted over a period of a month or more, the masks were fashioned delicately from galvanized copper, and carefully painted to match the complexion of the veteran. For her work Ladd often received highly emotional letters of gratitude from those she had helped, many of whom stated that she had restored not only their looks, but their humanity.

The 1918 film below, "Men With Broken Faces" displays some of the process of restoring broken visages, from casting to the careful painting of the surface to match the natural skin tone of the patient. The masks were often ingeniously camouflaged, matching natural indentations on the face, or masked by accessories such as glasses to fool the eye, and preserve the dignity of the man who had lost all.






Take a look; The father of my main character will be the recipient of Gillies' and Ladd's handiwork, his facial/bodily disfigurement a cruel reminder of a war unprecedented in its brutality.


Images courtesy of www.porjati.net.

Friday, December 5, 2014

"Mariette." A Graphic Novel of the French Female Resistance of WWII.




A common perception has been held for centuries that during wartime, women stay at home, while the men go out and fight.  
In the United States we are taught that American women were indispensable during World War II, performing the jobs which the absent men could not. What we are not commonly informed of however, is that during the conflict, thousands of European women fought alongside men in the trenches, and acted as spies and agents, risking their lives to resist the Axis power. This will be the subject of a project I am working on, a Graphic Novel devoted to the struggles of women during World War II.

My story will be set in France, A country against itself; a population reeling from the devastation of World War I accepted and even praised the surrender to the invading Germans, unaware of the imminent cruelty of the new administration. Led by Marshal Petain, a former hero of "The Great War," the new government rejected the egalitarian principles of the former republic, establishing in its place a regime in collusion with Germany, while enslaving their own and launching a ferocious campaign to eliminate the Jewish presence in France. 


From this confusion of relief, shame and denial, small underground networks emerged, dedicated to espionage and quiet resistance. A staggering number of these resistance fighters were women, who crossed hundreds of miles to deliver communiques, igniting and supporting revolt within the cities, as well as informing and inspiring the guerrilla soldiers of the wilderness. Acting as spies and liaisons, these women faced unimaginable dangers. If they were captured by the Germans or those who allied with them, they would be tried as spies and tortured to extract information. 


Our Heroine, Mariette, will head a revolt of her own while collaborating with famous historical figures, searching for her family who have been taken to an unknown concentration camp high in the Pyrenees. Along the way, she will come to terms with the lessons taught by her parents, and establish her own beliefs and convictions as to the nature of patriotism, honor, loyalty and love- a realization of self set against the backdrop of war.


 I will use multiple accounts by real female soldiers and resistance fighters to build an original character which represents voices which have been relatively silent in the shadow of the larger historiography of World War II. The book will follow the precocious young Mariette as she works her way through a multitude of conflicts, acting as spy, sniper, and resistance fighter to aid her beloved country. The book will be as historically accurate as possible, while also lending the same dramatic flair that pervades such epics as "Enemy at the Gates," or "Saving Private Ryan." The book will also address many of the issues of that time surrounding trauma, and the horrors that are inherent in warfare- issues that are also pertinent today. Drawing from works such as Margaret Collins Weitz's "Sisters in the Resistance," or Dave Grossman's harrowing psychological study, "On Killing," I hope to write a story that is both informed and informative on the topic of the deeply traumatic human experience of War. This book will be a first among many- graphic novels which offer the young men and women of today a more diverse history, one which honors the sacrifices of both men and women who fought in one of the greatest conflicts of history, while also questioning many of our own perceptions of history, and the human condition. 


Keep informed, follow me on Twitter, and watch this story unfold.


Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Water, Whales and Women: Remembering the American Whaling Industry



Whalers off Twofold Bay, Oswald Brierly.

The literary canon of the sea is a romanticized one. From the fictionalized world of C.S. Forester's Horatio Hornblower to the exploits of Woodes Rogers, the famous 17th century Pirate hunter, the otherworld of the sea has been heavily sensationalized as the stage upon which the masculine ideal of adventure and peril have been played out time and time again. And an otherworld it is. The sea of the 17th-19th century was a dangerous place; a frontier of its time, a place of unpredictable weather which could crush a ship and its crew, and home to the conflict of international trade and warfare; in other words, the perfect outlet for industry and machismo. As misleading as the literature may be, it is a worthy pursuit to disentangle this web of confused romanticism and ideals, to discover the truly surprising maritime world, and the world of the people who plied their trades upon the open ocean.

Another aspect of the sea, one which held at a times an insatiable allure and the promise of fortune, was the great leviathan- massive oil reserves which drifted across the ocean with deceptive docility. When angered however, they became raging beasts of carnage and destruction, a monster which could mangle a ship and its crew, and fight to the last with a frenzy befitting the biblical term of the monster from revelations. How perfect then was the whale, as a foil for both economic progress and fanaticism; the ideal outlet for the coupling of adventure and profit; immortalized in the works of Herman Melville and historians alike; the object of a truly American industry at the dawn of the industrial-capitalist era, and the end of a limitless world.

1817 Scrimshaw (carved images in whalebone) by a seaman,
memorializing the capture of a whale near the Galapagos Islands which
yielded 100 barrels of oil.
One of the issues regarding the depictions of this industry is the chance that the harsh realities of the industry may be overshadowed by contemporary preconceptions of an adventuresome liberty in the life upon the sea. Whereas recreational sailors of today may be drawn to the waters by some romantic idea of freedom and carefreeness, the realities of the historical seafarer is something far removed. To say that the operation of a tall ship was complicated and grueling would be a gross understatement of reality. The ships of the British Navy required crews numbering in the hundreds, all of whom knew every line of the rigging, every sail and mast. Though the numbers may have been fewer, without the need for military presence, the same skill and discipline was required upon the decks of American whale-ships. These ships went as far afield from their New England ports as the Pacific, and later even the Arctic sea, all in pursuit of the whale from which they extracted their fortune. The ship itself was a floating nation of sorts, under one captain whose word was law. Liberty may have seemed a distant concept in the confines of the vessels, which were usually small, cramped, and vile from the smoke of the tryworks, and the smells of decomposing whale flesh and oil. Though they were certain to see many things which would amaze, the primary mission of the ship was to harvest oil, a grossly unpleasant process of hard work and stamina.

The literature on whaling may seem at first sight to be simple and straightforward. There are many histories, such as Eric Jay Dolin's Leviathan, The History of Whaling in America, which provide detailed and exciting accounts of the sea, but upon further investigation a scholar will find, and perhaps be surprised by the fact that the literature of the industry is as varied and complex as the act of whaling itself. There are books about the religious aspects of Nantucket Island, such as Robert J. Leach and Peter Gow's Quaker Nantucket; The Religious Community Behind the Whaling Empire. There are books written about the women who went to sea with the ships, such as Joan Druett's Petticoat Whalers, which follows the lives of wives accompanying their whaling husbands in a unique act of solidarity. Then there are the stories of the hardships of whaling gone wrong, such as Nathaniel Philbricks In the Heart of the Sea,The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex, the story of a ship sunk by a whale which led to a horrific journey of starvation and loss for its crew across the open sea, and ultimately inspired Herman Melville to write his most famous novel, Moby Dick. Each book explores a different aspect of this immense transcontinental world, and each provides a specific viewpoint which can help to understand the world of whaling as a whole.

Whalers remove the jawbone of a sperm whale.
Eric Jay Dolin's immense book on American whaling deals primarily with whaling's link to the growth of the American economy. Drawing greatly from legal documentation, correspondences and logs, he gracefully places American whaling within the context of a growing nation- not as a minor aspect of, but a significant part of the birth of the nation itself. He begins with early expeditions to North America by Henry Hudson's Muscovy Company, who after a primary expedition in 1607 decided on an attempt to build a whaling company on Spitsbergen Island.1 Dolin's book proceeds to map out the culture of whaling which sprang up along the American coast and maintained a lingering presence. By drawing upon the colony's recorded legal policies on the matter, Dolin quite successfully illustrates just how prevalent whaling was within the growing American communities. Early colonists relied on drift whaling, the act of processing dead whales which washed ashore, and selling the oil. This was no marginalized industry, but an actively pursued one. With the advent of drift whaling2 in the colonies came a bevy of guidelines and restrictions as to who had the right to whales. Dolin illustrates this very well when discussing feuds between the towns over the carcasses which washed ashore. Dolin details a feud between the townspeople of Long Island, represented by a man named Mulford, and the State of New York, who was taking advantage of the policies regarding trade with oil to lay claim to a percentage of the oil harvested by Long Islanders. Drift whales became a valuable commodity, and even the church began to lay claim to some of the oil harvested by the coastal communities.

Dolin also details the multicultural aspects of this industry, noting that drift whaling “relied heavily on Indian labor”3 to be successful. He also maps some of the cross cultural relations between the indigenous peoples and the colonists regarding the processing of whales.
“In many instances the Indians sold their lands to the colonists with the proviso that they would retain the rights to various parts of the whales that were cast up. Sometimes this meant that the Indians were given the fins and flukes of the whales, items they held in reverence and used in religious ceremonies. Other times the Indians' demands were more substantive, such as when a local chief on Martha's vineyard sold a property “four spans4 round in the middle of every whale that come upon the shore of this quarter part and no more.”5
Watercolor by Alfred John Cooper depicting shore whalers
stripping blubber. 
This is merely one example which Dolin gives in which drift-whaling factors greatly within the transaction of land, or the laws concerning the sale or settling of land in regards to the whales which the purchased coast could provide. By relying less upon inter-personal documentation and instead investigating the wealth of governmental policy regarding early colonial whaling, Dolin makes a subtle yet effective argument that whaling was, from the start, an important aspect of the “American” experience and culture- not merely a marginalized industry, relevant only as a side-pursuit. The effects of whaling were enormous. For example, shore whaling interfered greatly with the ability to raise troops during the French and Indian war. In 1694, Captain John Thacher wrote to Governor Stoughton of Cape Cod that “All our young and strong men are imployed in whaling and mostly have their rendivous remote from the towns.”6 He even notes that on a more communal level, in the town of East Hampton school-children would be dismissed from December 1st to April 1st for the purpose of locating and processing whales. By demonstrating that whaling was significant enough to the 17th century colonist's life to generate regulation and fierce competition between settlements, Dolin contextualizes and illuminates an aspect of history which is often neglected, even in books concerning the whaling industry itself. It also sets a strong foundation to better understand the later power of the island of Nantucket within the global economy and the American whaling fanaticism.

While the island of Nantucket may have been only one of the many whaling powers along the coast of New England, it was by far the most successful. While Dolin does highlight Nantucket's important contribution to the power of the whaling community, he does not delve as deeply into the social reasons for this as he may have. An historian who does effectively demonstrate this aspect of whaling, and the culture which fueled it is Lisa Norling, whose book Captain Ahab Had a Wife, New England Women and the Whalefishery 1720-1870 contains detailed insight not only into the role which women played as wives, but the role they played as valuable members of a community whose religion not only varied greatly from that of the mainland, but also promulgated a different relationship to whaling.

While Dolin's decidedly narrative-based history of whaling is more than sufficient to grasp a strong sense of the inundation of whaling in the American community at large, Norling's account serves to explain the effects of Quakerism upon the Nantucket population and the way in which the women of the island sustained the community in the absence of a male population, but more importantly it reveals the resulting presence of women as the leaders of the community.
Whaling captain's wives.
Norling, a professor at The University of Minnesota primarily focuses on re-examining the history of women in relation to maritime labor history. The title of her book, (derivative of Captain Ahab's absent wife in the novel Moby Dick) is quite evocative of her aim; to investigate and establish the history of women within a history which has, for the most part relegated the role of women to a brief mention. Dolin himself has does devote a portion of his book to women whaling and the relationships between men and their wives, but in all, the role of women has been conspicuously silent. This is most likely due to the fact that when it came to the act of whaling, that is when whaling had become an off-shore venture during the early 18th century,7 women had less presence- the ships were after all primarily crewed by men. Norling criticizes this, and importantly the angle from which historians have traditionally viewed the history of whaling.
“In both realms, attention has focused largely on the ship itself, a highly specialized and almost wholly single-sex environment – though certainly not a “genderless” one. In fact, seafaring has traditionally been one of the most strikingly gendered pursuits, an aggressively masculine world of “iron men on wooden ships” that marginalized and objectified real women while feminizing the sea, ships, and shoreside society. Women have served as the foil against which sailors and maritime culture in general asserted their rugged masculinity and demonstrated their estrangement from land – based society, as they “wandered” often “in exile” over “the trackless deep” on ships that were always called “she.” In seafaring custom, song, and craft, women have featured more prominently as metaphor than as flesh-and-blood persons.8

Norling's book serves not to explore the history of whaling-women, of which there have been several recorded, but to explore rather the more prominent role women fulfilled on the Island of nantucket as the backbone of the community.
Nantucket was first settled by Europeans in 1659 by a group of various religious beliefs including 
Map of Nantucket Island.
Quakers. One of their number, Thomas Macy of Salisbury had offered shelter to Quakers, a crime at that point in time. He brought his family out, along with Tristram Coffin to settle the island which they had purchased from the original owners.9 Thus was established a small population, part of which was part of the Quaker “Society of Friends.” It was this society which would ultimately become the predominant religious force which constituted and supported the whalers of Nantucket.
Norling's book explores the role which women played within this Quaker society, and her conclusions seem at times to vary. Norling admits that she went into the study of maritime communities as an undergraduate with the preconception that she would find “strong, independent women who had withstood the rising tide of Victorian domesticity along with their seafaring husband's regular absences.”10 However, she was disappointed to find quite the contrary- wives who “subscribed just as whole-heartedly to pervasive ideas about female character and social roles as any other white, middle-class American women of the period.”11 She continues to realize that that far from what she had expected to see, she found women who accepted the role which they played, ad wives of men who would be gone often four to five years at a time- yet in the correspondences she explored she found not distant or uncaring, but loving and hopeful words between husbands and wives. Norling's ideas which she wholeheartedly share are part of a larger way of seeing the past- it is easy to imagine women running away to sea, casting off the shackles of their confines to join their male “counterparts” in the toil which brought wealth to their community. However, as Dolin and Norling both admit, this was not the case. In fact, if there was agency and strength in the position of women in 17th and 18th century Nantucket, Norling would argue that it came not from defiance, but cooperation with, and taking advantage of the setting in which they existed. As Norling states,
“We now recognize that domesticity was a particular set of closely regulated assumptions and ideals about gender, family, and home that saturated American culture in every conceivable form and medium from about 1820 to at least the end of the nineteenth century. According to the pervasive norms and values, men were supposed to be producers and providers who went to work to support their families, which they understood to mean primarily their wives and children. Women's complementary responsibility was to create a home in which husbands were loved, sustained, and renewed, and children loved and nurtured.”12
With this understanding of the historical role of women in traditional 19th century American culture it would seem that the women of Nantucket fulfilled this role. However, Norling's purpose, and indeed, her reason for establishing that Nantucket was itself a unique facet of American life is to challenge, or rather re-shape this preconception. Part of what made Nantucket women distinctly different was the nature of the island's breed of Quakerism- admittedly different than that to the mainland in that it was uniquely accepting of women. Norling uses the story of the conversion of Mary Coffin Starbuck, a wealthy Nantucketer descended from Tristram Coffin, who went into the reverie for which the Quakers were named during an assembly and proclaimed the actions of the Nantucket Quakers as the Truth, or the ultimate understanding and interaction with God. Norling asserts that the acceptance of women into the Quaker community was in part due to the fact that they “insisted on a spiritual equality among all believers, which derived from the equal possibility of experiencing God directly.”13

While attempting to find the strong female heroines which are so lacking, Norling was herself disappointed as, she came to inevitably realize, the ship was a masculine realm, and great lengths were taken to maintain that, reinforced through heavily masculinized rhetoric and songs. Instead, Norling would have use look rather to a somewhat neglected aspect of the nantucket empire: it's home base, the island itself. Here, the role of women in the history of whaling is surprisingly unique. For example, Norling goes into great depth to analyze store receipts and lists to create a picture of a culture which was very much devoted to a cooperative maintenance by and of the families of absent whalers. Women ran not only the household, but also handled the affairs of finance. Shopowners and other tradesman kept records of the money they had forwarded to the wives of the Island, as well as their exchanges. She quotes the writer John Hector St. John de Crevecoeur, who wrote extensively about the whaling communities of his time.
Unlike Melville, Crevecoeur gave equal credit for Nantucket's success to the Island's women. . . “As the sea excursions are often very long,” Crevecoeur observed, “[the whaler's] wives are necessarily obliged to transact business, to settle accounts, and, in short, to rule and provide for their families. These circumstances, being often repeated, give women the abilities as well as a taste for that kind of superintendency, to which, by their prudence and good management, they seem to be in general very equal.” 14
As is apparent, whaling wives adapted out of necessity to become the heads of their respective households while their husband were away at sea laboring in the island's industry. The wealthy ship-owners, responsible for the payment of the sailors would oftentimes provide money to the families in need. Women also eventually served on the Nantucket Quaker Assembly. Indeed, because so many men were absent or left the Island, during a population recession, in 1781 the women of Nantucket outnumbered the men three to one.15 As a result, there were more women serving on the assembly than men. In essence, the island was a self sustaining community, based upon the tenets of Quakerism in which the whaler-wives were an indispensable part. Without the wives, the sustainability of the community would become precarious, and the industry would impossible. It is also interesting that Norling notes that according to Margaret Hope Bacon, a Quaker Historian, “Nantucket, with its isolation and frequent absence of husbands and fathers on whaling trips, became a training ground for the development of strong Quaker women: Lucretia Coffin Mott, Martha Coffin Wright, Phebe Hanaford, Maria Mitchell, and many other pioneer feminists came from Nantucket.”16 Whether or not early Nantucket women themselves led feminist movements, Norling does not say. However, what can be gleaned is that this culture which Norling investigates, and which in many books on the subject is ignored, clearly engendered a unique sense of worth into its female inhabitants; enough so that they could effectively lead the community themselves. 

Norling is exploring a fascinating new way of looking at the Maritime history of women. If, as she asserts, the sea is the masculine realm where women had little place, and therefore little presence, then perhaps the history should be less exclusive in the realms which it explores. The Nantucket community served as a unique opportunity to study this, as a symbiotic relationship between those on shore supporting and being supported by those at sea. Here the women's role is equally as vital, but because maritime history has (historically) been biased toward the study of seafaring, the history of the women at home has been a history neglected, and unacknowledged. It is seductive to want to look for the select few who participated in the “manly” acts of seamanship, but perhaps in this respect it is more vital to understand the rather unique breed of domesticity which existed on Nantucket in its formative years, and of which Norling writes.

That is not to say that women did not go to sea. Indeed, many women did; in particular the whaler-wives of later years. In her book, Petticoat Whalers, Whaling Wives at Sea, 1820-1920, Joan Druett offers a rich account of the lives of women who, in the later 19th century, accompanied their husbands on their voyages.
Druett, a New Zealand maritime historian writes a fascinating account of life upon the American whaleship. Gone is the romanticism of the sea- in fact she begins with a description of the braggadocio of the Whaleman, describing their behavior in sea ports, and their “legendary” drinking bouts. Her book serves as a perfect segue into an increasingly diverse history from that of Norling's work. Like Norling, she is concerned with women and whaling. However, her history, (admittedly later) offers the unique perspective of a “civilian” experience upon the working-factory that was the whale-ship. Whereas Norling's women were the women of a growing 18th to 19th century settlement, Druett's book is concerned with the final years of the age of sail; when the whaling industry was declining, unique communities like Nantucket had begun to resemble in appearance those of the mainland, and Quakerism had declined.

The world which Druett introduces the reader to may be somewhat familiar to those who have even a scarce familiarity with the sea; a world in which seamen labored on the decks and in the rigging under the watchful eye of stern masters. And yet, amidst the organized chaos of the seafaring world, Druett exposes a lesser known aspect; the wives who went to sea with their husbands.
There were many challenges to this- Druett speaks of the flesh-trafficking which occurred frequently on islands such as Hawaii, acts which one Captain Sawtell was more than happy to keep his “strong-minded yankee housewife” from witnessing.17 As sexual acts were limited aboard, once a ship came near land, much of the whaleman's lay18 was spent upon debauchery, and it was the toil of the captain to attempt to preserve decency. As Druett succinctly pstates, “The very idea of a modest young woman living on one of those 'floating castles of prostitution' was unthinkable.”19 But women did step onto these ships, and sail across the world in pursuit of whales.

Joan Druett relies, as does Norling, upon diaries and personal correspondences. Diaries were common among the sailing wives, and even sailors, as very often there was little to do aboard besides work. “Theoretically, the men had shipwork. Whaleships were so over-manned . . . that the routine jobs that could easily be accomplished by a dozen men had to be stretched to occupy thirty, and despite all the 'make-work' that the officers could devise . . . there were still man empty hours to be filled.”20 Druett's work is a valuable compilation of the lives of a multitude of devoted whaling couples who set to sea on what came to be coined as “hen frigates,” or “petticoat ships.”21 While she does little to provide a sense of the life these women left to join her husbands, she does show that sometimes the friends and families of the whaler-wives “stated many objections” to their choice to follow their spouse's to sea, thereby indicating that this act was in stark contrast to what was expected of a woman at that time.22 Druett begins with an account of the life of one of the first whaling wives, a Nantucket woman incidentally, named Mary Hayden Russell who followed her husband in 1823 on his ship The Emily.23

There are profound implications in the work of Norling as to the sacrifices one made go to sea. Once even a man stepped onto the ship, they entered into a different world where the land fell away and ceased to be relevant. While Norling is dismissive while describing the male attitude in reference to their “exile” upon the sea, it runs the risk of dismissing a valuable aspect of the seafaring experience.24 The term exile is indicative of an emotional experience in which a ship, out of sight of land for weeks at a time could cause a deep sense of isolation, of which the males were resentful. The sexual proclivities of the sailors are quite indicative of the effects of these voyages upon the scruples of men who were aware, even in the act, of their violation of Christian-American sensibilities. Why then would a wife subject herself to this lifestyle, going against the social mores of her time? Druett makes a valid case for the preservation of domesticity aboard these ships, in the presence of reform among the unruly sailors.
Mary Brewster, who often accompanied
her whaling captain husband on his voyages.
Although life aboard the ships was distant, the effects certainly found their way ashore, the most telling and difficult to hide being the venereal diseases contracted in the seductive islands of Hawaii; most ominously, syphilis.25 For the wives of these sailors, monitoring their husbands was certainly a motivator. Less exacting perhaps, but just as strong was the drive to be near to one's spouse. “According to the letters she wrote on board to her daughter, Mary Hayden Russel's reason for sailing was a strong and righteous sense of wifely duty. . .”26 As Norling herself states, the correspondences between husbands and wives were not simply to inform one another, but demonstrate a very real sense of longing and loneliness.27
Druett also provides accounts of the duties women served on the ships, such as ironing clothes- one woman improvised by doing the ironing on the cabin floor.28 Women on these ships were not idle, and fulfilled a role themselves, as well as providing company and closing the distance with their husbands which had proved to be so painful for the couples of Norling's book.

As is clear, the study and literature concerning this subject is vast, but also fractured. Norling's account offers a clear image of the domestic life of whaler's wives, while Druett adds a more complicated view of gender aboard the ship, a setting which is usually described in a deeply gendered manner by historian such as Dolin. Each serves a necessary function, one which cannot be easily done, as the topic itself is magnanimous. The history of whaling as it pertains to North America alone is full of complexities. Perhaps a broad history such as Dolin's could be seen as limited in it's scope, but Dolin's text addresses on aspect which neither Norling or Druett do; the role which race played on these ships.
A ship during these times was not always an exception to culture. Of course there were marked differences in the culture and manners of the sailors themselves, but to what degree was racism affected by this change in location and context? Dolin includes some points on this in his book, in particular the way in which African Americans were viewed on whale-ships. Native Americans certainly did serve on Whale-ships, but Dolin would argue that their treatment was superior to that of African Americans. “Account books from Nantucket show that between 1721 and 1756 there were Indian whalemen who annually earned four times the salary of the average seaman in Boston.”29 Whether or not this is any indication of the state of affairs aboard a whaling vessel is up to speculation. It is important to remember that a “seaman” could refer to a merchant, fisherman, or what have you. Dolin does note that they were by and large treated poorly, though this piece of information could be suspect in regards to the comparative salaries of whale-men to other seafarers.30 Whaling during this time was vastly more lucrative than many of the other industries of sail, so perhaps ethnicity is not as indicative of difference in this comparison as are the occupations themselves. Regardless, the treatment of African Americans was far from desirable, and reflective of treatment of them ashore. As Dolin notes,
“Blacks, too, were employed in the whale fishery, with or without their consent, and almost always under inferior conditions. Such circumstances are hardly surprising, given that blacks, at the time, were viewed primarily as property and a cheap source of labor. It was hardly uncommon to see ads for whaling supplies to be placed alongside ads for slaves, as the “Advertisement” section of the Boston News-Letter revealed in November 1723. The first ad told of a merchant in Boston who had “lately imported from London, Extraordinary good Whale warps . . . made of the finest hemp,” which were available in “Quoile” or “Quantity” for a reasonable sixteen pennies per pound. The next ad read, “A likely Negro Woman, fit for Town or Country, to be Sold, Inquire of the Printer thereof and know further.” Thus coils of rope and a black human being were tantamount: simply merchandise to be bought and sold at will.”31
Absalom Boston, 1785-1855. Captain of The Industry,
a ship manned by a purely African-American crew.
That slaves were sold to the ships, and forced to labor in the whale-fishery is clearly indicative of their station within the whaling world. It would be hard to argue that they were treated any differently at sea, especially in a setting which was so stratified in it's very nature, with the ship-owner at the top, then the captain, and the dreaded first mate- the executor of punishment during the long voyages at sea and very often the natural enemy of the able-seamen.

One aspect, however, which is often conspicuously lacking is that of the effects of the whaling industry upon the global whale population, a topic which is particularly relevant to modern times. As maritime historian Nathaniel Philbrick says in his book In the Heart of the Sea, in the later years of the nantucket whaling empire, so many of the whales had been killed, that they had begun to disappear from the coast of Massachussetts. Ships had to go further and further afield to find whales, so ravenous were they for the precious resource.
By 1819, Nantucket was well on its way to reclaiming and, as the whalers ventured into the Pacific, even surpassing its former glory. But the rise of the Pacific sperm-whale fishery had an unfortunate side effect. Instead of voyages that had once averaged about nine months, two- and three-year voyages had become the norm. Never before had the division between Nantucket's whalemen and their people been so great. Long gone were the days when Natucketers could watch from shore as the men and boys of the island pursued the whale. Nantucket was now the whaling capital of the world, but there were more than a few islanders who had never seen a whale.32
Modern Japanese whaling vessel.
That the whaling vessels of the 17th through the early 19th century depopulated the vast quantities of whales in the Atlantic is not unique only to that fishery. Mark Kurlansky, in his book “Cod, A Biography of the Fish that Changed the World,” provides a grim account of the overfishing of Cod along the Atlantic seaboard. That Dolin at least did not address the decline of whales in his book is somewhat surprising, given current international controversy with countries such as Japan over the legality of whaling, and the policies thereof. Nevertheless, Dolin's book serves as an ambitious work; to provide an accessible and fascinating history of this remarkable industry which has shaped so much of American culture.

It is clear from reading the works of Norling and Druett, as well as the grim realism of Dolin's work that much of the nostalgic romanticism of the sea not only ignores, but obscures the truth. Norling's assertion that the sea was a deeply gendered space is certainly true in concept, though Druett's scholarship on the large number of women who accompanied their husbands displays a vastly different reality. Dolin's scholarship is an important place to begin ones' study, and his inclusion of legal documents makes it clear to the reader just how crucial the industry was to the development of a growing nation, though it does have it's setbacks, as would be expected of a large-scale, comprehensive work. Dolin's work would lend itself to a focused analysis of just how prominent whaling culture was within colonial society, as the amount of governmental regulation on the matter is somewhat unexpected, especially in the an early stages of colonial history.

It is easy while reading and imagining the maritime world to fall prey to romanticism. To a degree it would seem unavoidable in dealing with a history involving so large and moving a force as the ocean. Though the history of the ocean alone is fascinating, it is the romanticism and the nostalgia for the sea and the thriving and diverse industry of fishing which has provided so much literature and culture to the world. While obscuring, it is a similar curiosity and desire for adventure is what sent innumerable people to the sea throughout time, and in a way links the modern historian to the historical adventurer. It is part of what drives maritime historians to dig deeper to discover more about the fascinating and sometimes bizarre world of the whaling-ships of yesterday.








Bibliography

Dolin, Eric Jay. Leviathan, The History of Whaling in America. W WNorton and Company Inc, New York, NY. 2007.

Druett, Joan. Petticoat Whalers, Whaling Wives at Sea, 1820-1920. Collins Publishers, Auckland New Zealand. 1991

Leach, Robert J, and Gow, Peter. Quaker Nantucket, The Religious Community behind the Whaling Empire. Mill Hill Press, Nantucket MA. 1997

Norling, Lisa. Captain Ahab Had a Wife, New England Women and the Whalefishery 1720-1870. University of North Carolina Press, 2000.

Philbrick, Nathaniel. In the Heart of the Sea, The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex. Penguin Books. New York, NY. 2000

1Dolin, Eric Jay. Leviathan, The History of Whaling in America. W WNorton and Company Inc, New York, NY. 2007. p. 24
2“Drift” or “shore” whaling was the earliest form of whaling in the American Colonies. Dead whales (usually pilot whales) would wash ashore and quickly be processed by the locals; the oil, bones and various valued parts harvested. Feuds quickly sprang up, as well as a complex system implemented to safeguard the rights of individuals to the whales. Firstly, the person who discovered the beached whale had rights to the carcass, but as time went on, many beachcombers would offer a share to whoever would process the whale for them. As this practice continued, oftentimes cross-county transactions would occur, much to the anger of the locals, who felt entitled to the wealth it would bring. The government on more than one occasion had to step in and regulate. At that time, whale oil had more commercial value than domestic, and so it was usually brought to large towns like Boston to be sold, while the bones and baleen would be harvested to make combs, corset braces, and various other sundry. In an industrializing world, whale oil was invaluable- seen to have no peers when used to lubricate the machines of the industrial revolution. This was to hold true well into the late 19th century, with the advent of synthetic lubricants.
3Dolin, p. 47
4Span most likely refers to the measurement of blubber around the midsection of the whale. This was often eaten, not refined for oil by the indigenous peoples.
5Dolin p. 44
6Dolin, p. 53.
7During the early 18th century, American whalers began to turn their eyes to the open sea, as their ready supply of drift-whales began to dwindle. Originally they had stripped the whales ashore, or having ventured out into the immediate waters, brought the blubber to shore to boil in large brick ovens known as tryworks. Eventually they began to cosntruct the tryworks on the decks of ships, thereby creating a floating factory capable of sailing far out to sea and processing the blubber as they went. They would sail to islands and sell the barrels there, rather than returning to nantucket. This system enabled them to embark on four to five-year voyages into the Pacific.
8Norling, Lisa. Captain Ahab Had a Wife, New England Women and the Whalefishery 1720-1870. University of North Carolina Press, 2000. p. 1-2.
9Leach, Robert J, and Gow, Peter. Quaker Nantucket, The Religious Community behind the Whaling Empire. Mill Hill Press, Nantucket MA. 1997. p. 8-9.
10Norling, p. 3.
11Norling, p. 3.
12Norling, p. 4.
13Norling, p. 57.
14Norling, p. 16.
15Norling, p. 89.
16Norling, p. 53
17Druett, Joan. Petticoat Whalers, Whaling Wives at Sea, 1820-1920. Collins Publishers, Auckland New Zealand. 1991 p. 8.
18The salary a whale-man was paid. This was usually given at the end of a voyage, but a whale-man could borrow money from the captain against his lay, to be subtracted plus interest later. This often led to large debts being accrued, and it was common practice for whale-men to serve consecutive voyages in order to pay off their lay.
19Druett, p. 11.
20Druett, p. 74.
21Druett, p. 11.
22Druett, p. 19.
23Druett, p. 19.
24Norling, p. 4
25Druett, p. 9.
26Druett, p. 19.
27Norling p. 7.
28Druett p. 74.
29Dolin, p. 93.
30Dolin, p. 93.
31Dolin, p. 93.

32Philbrick, Nathaniel. In the Heart of the Sea, The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex. Penguin Books. New York, NY. 2000 p. 24.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Great Fights: Joe Louis vs Max Schmeling, 1938

The Brown Bomber Joe Louis and Max Schmeling 1938, Robert Riggs.

The year was 1938, and the world was on the brink of war. In Germany, the Nazi Party had come to the fore under the guiding hand of Adolf Hitler. Across the sea, a smaller battle was about to be fought in the United States- one which the two nations watched with nervous anticipation. The field of battle was a ring in Yankee Stadium- the combatants; two single boxers.

They had fought in the same arena two years earlier, on June 19th 1936. At that time, Joseph Louis Barrow, or “The Brown Bomber,” as he was known was the top contender for the heavyweight title. The challenger was the German Max Schmeling, known as “The Black Uhlan of the Rhine.” Considered over-the-hill after a defeat at the hands of Max Baer in 1933, Schmeling had been sent back to Germany without much hope of regaining the title. As the top contender in Germany, it wasn't long before Schmeling was noticed by Hitler, who saw Schmeling as a potentially powerful propagandist figure. After a revitalizing of his career under the watchful eye of the Fuhrer, Schmeling went overseas once more to face one of the most formidable heavyweight boxers in American history in a match that would spark one of the greatest rivalries in boxing history, and foreshadow a war that in no more than three years would tear the world apart.

Joseph Louis Barrow
An African-American athlete in the shadow of the infamous Jack Johnson, Louis' managers had devised a list of rules, rules which were intended to maintain the athlete's image, and avoid the public ire which Johnson's lifestyle had provoked. The first recognized African-American Heavyweight Champion, Johnson had been notoriously cocky- publicly mocking opponents and vaunting over them after they had fallen in the ring. Perhaps most damaging to his reputation in an early 20th century America, he had engaged in public relationships with white women. Louis' rules disallowed this; he was not even permitted to be photographed with a white woman. As a result, Louis was eventually 'allowed' the spotlight by the white commission which had begrudged African-American champions since the bombastic Johnson.

Max Schmeling (right) with his Manager, Joe Jacobs.
When Schmeling first came to America in 1936, Louis was not ready for him, having neglected his training for golf, his underestimating of Schmeling reinforced by a nation who thought the German to be too old, and too clumsy. Schmeling however, hungry for the title which had escaped his grasp, had carefully studied Louis' style, analyzing footage for hours to discover a gap in the man's defenses. He found that Louis often lowered his left hand after jabbing, leaving room for a counter-punch. When they met at the Yankee Stadium for the first time in 1936, after 12 rounds Schmeling managed to do what no opponent had done; knock Joe Louis out.

The fight itself was politically charged before either combatant stepped into the ring. Schmeling was besieged by Nazi propaganda which boasted that his certain victory would prove the superiority of the German over an American- an African-American at that whose mind, to the Nazi, was unsuited for combat. Branded as the poster-boy for the Nazi party, Schmeling returned to Germany after a grueling yet victorious twelve rounds with Louis, where he was lauded by the nation, and personally feted by the Fuhrer. Louis meanwhile returned to training, beaten for the first time in his career, hungry for revenge.

Two years later, the men were preparing to face one another in Yankee stadium a second time, as if to rectify the shocking outcome of the first battle. After his loss to Schmeling, Louis was given a shot at the title against James J Braddock, although the terms of the fight should have dictated otherwise. Schmeling was the victor, after all. Louis knocked Braddock out, becoming the Heavyweight Champion, but he refused to see himself as such until he set the record straight and defeated the one man who had beaten him. Schmeling on the other hand had been hailed as the flower of Nazi Germany, a title which threatened his connections to members of the Jewish community, including his manager, Joe Jacobs.1 Hitler even sent communications to Schmeling's team, urging him to win for the sake of The Reich, which discomfited the pugilist. Outside of his hotel in New York City, crowds had gathered to hound him. White Americans did not necessarily want a black champion, but they wanted a Nazi triumph even less. By the time Schmeling and Louis faced off in the ring a second time, all the eyes of the world it seemed, were upon them. In their gloved hands could have rested the fate of the world.

Schmeling's first victory had been a long and difficult one, and Louis, even without the edge better training may have afforded, had still managed to win several rounds. This time he was ready for the German, and as he faced Schmeling, his eagerness to fight permeated the ring. As Schmeling stood flat-footed in his corner with his hands hanging by his sides, Louis bobbed lightly on his feet, adjusting his shorts casually with his gloved hands. He burned to defeat the man, who just a month before had claimed he was afraid of him.2

Louis fires an uppercut into Schmeling's defense.
The bell rang, and the two men came to the center, Schmeling carefully keeping his distance from Louis' fists. Tense and alert, Louis waited for an opening, while the German retreated before him, a hand out to fend away the relentless man. Suddenly, Louis tore into him with a barrage of jabs, moving fast and hard. Schmeling could only clinch briefly to stop the lightening quick-hands. As they broke, Schmeling moved backwards, leaning defensively away, feet leaden on the canvas. His posture was of a man scared for his life. Louis again exploded into him, driving a lead uppercut directly into his face. After a brief exchange they separated, and the two men stood before one another, hands twitching as they calculated their next move. Suddenly, Louis tossed the German back against the ropes. Schmeling's technique, effective in the first fight was useless now, as Louis had learned from his mistake, and left no opening for the man to attack. While Louis tore into his frozen opponent, the scream from the crowd grew louder and louder as they immediately rose to their feet. Right after right, left after left pounded into Schmeling's body, throwing him back against the ropes again and again as Louis pummeled harder and harder. Schmeling turned sideways, one arm clutching the topmost rope in a desperate attempt to remain standing, the other fumbling at his opponent's chest. Dropping his arm he tried to defend his exposed side against Louis's onslaught, but his opponent simply took advantage of his now lowered guard to punish his head instead. His vision blurring from the barrage, Schmeling's knees gave out and he sank.3 His chin hooked the rope and kept him from collapsing completely as the referee, Arthur Donovan jumped in and motioned Louis away. He gestured to see if the battered man was alright. Schmeling stepped away from the ropes, visibly dazed, staring confusedly into the ring. It wasn't a fight anymore. There was no way Louis would let the German leave the ring the champion. Seemingly regaining his composure, Schmeling brought his guard up, his right hand reaching out to block Louis' tentative jab unsuccessfully. Before the gloves made contact Louis was springing forward, his right hand crashing into Schmeling's jaw. Schmeling's head went limp and he dropped immediately to the canvas, even as Louis drove a second hook directly into the fallen man's face. Head over heels, Schmeling tumbled to the canvas, before staggering to his feet, where Louis bobbed, waiting calmly for him to get up. Too battered to fight anymore and holding his arms across his face, Schmeling tried to keep Louis from hitting him but Louis punched around the feeble arms into his temple, sending him sprawling forward onto his hands. Again the referee jumped into the fray, arms outstretched between the champion and the already beaten Schmeling. Two more fists flew into Schmeling's ribs as he teetered forward, arms low and slack. His head snapped back twice as Louis, with two rapid punches, sent him down one last time. Louis sprang away from the fallen man, as Schmeling tried to rise but sank to the canvas with an unmistakable finality.4 Schmeling's trainer, Max Machon threw in the towel and clambered into the ring with the other cornermen to drag the defeated German to his feet and back to his corner. Throughout the course of the fight, Schmeling had only thrown two punches. It had taken him 12 rounds to drop Louis in 1936. It had taken Louis only 124 seconds to do the same, and finally he knew he was the champion.5

Joe Louis stands over a fallen Max Shmeling, after a first round knockout.
After the fight, the hospitalized Schmeling claimed that Louis had struck him in the kidney with a foul blow, but it was of no use. The American press sneered at him- their superiority had been confirmed, and as reporter J P Dawson wrote, Louis. . . [was the] master for now and all time. The celebration was not only confined to the white boxing commission. Maya Angelou had written about Louis' 1936 loss to Schmeling, saying that “My race groaned. It was our people falling. It was another lynching, yet another Black man hanging on a tree. . . if Joe lost we were back in slavery and beyond help. It would all be true, the accusations that we were lower types of human beings.”6 Now, after his great victory
Louis and Schmeling in their later years.
over the white Schmeling, throngs of African-American men and women gathered and celebrated in the streets, and riots swept the nation. In Cleveland, a group of rioters were tear-gassed by the police, as they returned fire with bricks and pulled out knives. In Detroit on the other hand, a massive celebration was held by the African-Americans of Paradise Valley, who had reserved the right to do so before Louis and Schmeling had even gotten into the ring, so hopeful and sure they were of victory. Not only was the American ideal vindicated, but it had been achieved at the hands of one of their own. Conversely, Schmeling retreated to Germany with his tail between his legs. His maid had refused even to tell his wife at home in Berlin, so great was the defeat of the “Black Uhlan of the Rhine.” Only a year later, Germany invaded Poland, sparking the great war in which the two nations would once again
be tested with far greater consequences, on a battlefield much larger than a boxing ring. Schmeling would join the military, and Louis further aided the nation by holding boxing demonstrations for the troops to serve morale. After the war was over and Louis retired from the fight game, the IRS attacked Louis and crippled the hero financially. He returned to boxing to make ends meet, but was not the same man he had been, and suffered loss after loss. The man who become a household name and defended Americanism against the threat of fascism was finally down and out- a victim of the country he had served. Schmeling tracked him down, and the two struck up a close friendship, and when Louis died, Schmeling helped carry his coffin to his final resting place at Arlington cemetery.

Joseph Louis Barrow, 1914-81.



1During World War II Schmeling would hide Jewish fugitives in his hotel room.
2Dawson, James P. Louis Defeats Schmeling by a Knockout in First. New York Times; Jun 23, 1938; ProQuest Historical Newspapers The New York Times (1851 - 2001) pg. 1
3Dawson, James P.
4Description of the fight taken from film footage and radio commentary by Clem McCarthy.
McCarthy, Clem. The Rematch. Ringside Radio, 1938. PBS.org. http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/amex/fight/sfeature/sf_radio_pop_1938_01.html 2/15/14
­
5Dawson, James P.
6Angelou, Maya. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Random House, New York NY. 1969.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Obscuring the Irish Past: Costume Culture and the Irish in America

Shirt commonly worn on St Patrick's Day.
In the past few years I've become increasingly aware of an intensifying movement against cultural appropriation. In 2013, Katy Perry caused a stir when she and her backup performance appeared onstage in Geisha-inspired costumes and dances, which, according to Lauren Duca of The Huffington Post was “neither Chinese or Japanese,” but a confused cluster of the two, twisted together in a mistaken “pan-Asian” identity. To many this seemed harmless, but to proponents of groups such as the “Culture not a Costume” movement, they are anything but. My brother, who worked as an assistant manager at a popular Halloween Mall franchise, noted that on several occasions concerned parents returned their purchases, (often Geisha costumes) because of issues with cultural appropriation. The worry is that cultures who have been marginalized and abused will be reduced to a stereotypic amalgamation of parts which do not accurately depict or at least recognize the diversity and intricacies of that culture- a legitimate concern in a society which claims to be “post-racist,” yet often adamantly defends appropriation. Fans of the controversial WashingtonRedskins” wear warbonnets while attending games played on soil torn from the self-same Native Americans who they carelessly emulate. The movement against cultural appropriation couldn't be more timely, or necessary.

Today I watched a green horde of drunken students staggering their way down main street of Amherst Massachusetts, draped with chintzy plastic beads, or oversized lopsided caricatures of top-hats, manufactured in factories overseas for novelty companies. “Kiss me I'm Irish” shirts were stained with vomit and alcohol, while slurred speech made incoherent by cheap liquor demanded junk food across counters. And it wasn't even St. Patrick's day. Today has been branded “Blarney Day” in the town of Amherst, a preemptive St. Patrick's day of sorts. Created by the local bars, several of whom boast “Irish Pride” it targets the large student market which ships off to repeat the same delinquent behavior over spring-break, when St. Patrick's day really occurs. The atmosphere is a cheap drunken haze in which a semblance of Irish-ness is about as genuine as the discarded plastic shamrocks, stamped with Budweiser's seal of approval, which litter the street. Across the USA, to millions of bar-goers, this is what it means to be Irish. Students will later totter home or fall asleep on couches and floors, blissfully unaware that just a century beforehand, approximately 400,000 starving immigrants, from whom many are descended, struggled for their lives and cultural identity in the social battlefield between the Protestant hegemony, and the Catholic minority.

So many are familiar with the image of the leprechaun. Around this time in grammar schools across the nation, children are cutting out little shamrocks and learning that an ancient saint drove the snakes out of a far away land called Ireland. Somehow the jolly little redheaded defenders of rainbow hoards are related, but who really knows how, or why. Within a decade or so, many of these children will join the slow moving masses as they trudge in and out of bars looking for the next cheap drink, clad in green. It might as well be Robin Hood or Peter Pan day, but it isn't. The word “Irish” is found across an assortment of trinkets, (right next to a brand name of course) all geared towards the sale of that great motivator; booze, and what a motivator it is. According to a survey done by Yahoo.com, St Patty's day is the fourth most popular drinking day in the US, right behind the Fourth of July- even outranking Thanksgiving. Disregarding the prestige of Yahoo.com, it would seem nonetheless that Irish-ness is as American as apple pie; simply part of the heritage- a shameful misrepresentation of the painful history of the Irish in America.

The history of the Irish in America begins with an everyday item; the potato. Eryn's Isle, or Ireland as it is more commonly known, is a harsh land. Principally suited for grazing livestock, the labor associated with this industry was toilsome. As a result, a cheap food source rich with nutrients was necessary to support the population. The potato was brought to Ireland by the Basque fishermen who sailed there on their way home from fishing the Grand Banks off the coast of Massachusetts during the 16th century. The potato eventually became the staple of the common diet, and the cottier system was established, to ensure the steady production of this commodity. The cottiers were a class of sharecroppers-mostly Catholic, to whom Protestant landlords leased poorly maintained land (at a considerable sum) for the production of potatoes and other agricultural commodities. Ireland became increasingly dependent upon this class for survival, and the cottiers suffered. In the early 18th century, Ireland was still in recovery from the Famine of 1740, caused by a period of intemperate weather felt across the breadth of Europe. In 1840, disaster struck again. An Oomycete bacteria infected the potato crop, crippling the food supply, and bringing Ireland to its knees in an unprecedented famine. The death toll is uncertain due to poor resources, but it was estimated that nearly 40% of Ireland's population perished during the famine. This, combined with Protestant aggression and growing civilian violence forced many Catholics to leave their homeland, and go across the sea to the United States, which beckoned with the promise of food, and freedom from the abuses of the cottier system and the protestant government. What awaited was hardly better.

The Irish had traveled in droves to the United States before, during the previous famine. These were quickly pressed into indentured servitude, an estimate being that 9 out of 10 indentured servants were Irish, 75% of whom were catholic. Catholic-Protestant tensions had made their way to North America long before the Irish had flocked to their shores to escape the first famine. Francis Drake led raids against the Spanish colonies of Georgia and Florida, burning and pillaging in the name of the Protestant Queen. An Irish Catholic was no better than a Spanish Catholic in their eyes. The attitude had changed little by the time the immigrants of the potato famine made their way to America. Signs were posted in business windows, saying NINA, or No Irish Need Apply. Businesses would not open their doors, and many of the Irish of the northern states were quickly pressed into horrific work and domestic conditions in the dreaded mills of the industrial age, which belched a thick layer of pollution over towns such as Lowell Massachusetts. Tenements, small cramped apartment buildings run by slumlords were packed with 10 families to a room- many of which were only the size of a prison cell. There was no privacy, and there was no food. Starvation and disease ran rampant through these buildings with large families packed together in close proximity like sardines in a can, festering in their own filth and unable to move. The mills kept the Irish dependent upon them by “providing” housing at a steep cost which ensured a compliant and stationary workforce.

In this time of turmoil and depression, one of the few tokens which remained of the homeland was St. Patrick's day. The immigrants were lost within a culture that institutionalized the anti-Catholic sentiment of Britain and systematically attempted to destroy the Gaelic language by punishing children for speaking it in schools- a systematic attack upon Irish culture. There were few pleasures left to be had. The tradition of imbibing alcohol on St. Patrick's day was linked to a legend in which St. Patrick was given less whiskey than he had ordered. He told the innkeeper that he would be plagued by a demon which fed off of dishonesty, and thenceforth he was served the proper amount. The tradition served to honor the right of the working man by giving him his "measure of whiskey-" in essence, the right to life's simple joys, something which the immigrants were routinely denied within the strictly Protestant confines of America. Alcohol served to alleviate depression, and was integral to the day which celebrated memories of the land they had left behind. Many had come to American shores with the intention of eventually returning home wealthy men. many sent money home routinely, along with correspondences. Husbands left wives and children behind to fend for themselves, promising to return and sending them money- as little as they could. As a result, love and longing for the motherland fills the drinking songs of Irish-Americans rather than resentment towards a country which in reality wanted them as much as America. They were a people whose home existed only as an idea. Resentment was instead reserved for the United States, famously exhibited in the bitter anti-war ballad, Paddy's Lament. War was to destroy the hopes of thousands of Irish, and shatter the dream that they might return to a better life in Ireland.
Conditions of an Irish Tenement.
These would be filled with families.


During the first few waves of 19th century Irish immigration, Civil War was brewing in the United States between the North and the South. As thousands of Irish immigrants spilled by the boatload into the cities of New York and Boston, the Union began to recruit. Men who spoke only the homeland language of Gaelic were given papers which they believed to be documents of citizenry. Eagerly signing, they were confused when they were directed away from their families to tables laden with military gear. They had been tricked into signing enlistment papers. If they wanted to be Americans, they'd have to be willing to die first. Entire regiments, famously that under General Meagher served in the War, and along with German and Italian immigrants served as the expendable shock troops on the front lines. Proper equipment was reserved for the Protestant Anglo “natives.” Without adequate ammunition the Catholic immigrants were hacked to pieces and bayoneted to death before they had even seen a home. They were simply replaced by the next boatload. Pensions were rarely given, and their families, without the money required, often starved to death. Wives went to the mills and resorted to prostitution to support themselves in their husband's absence, and the children quickly followed.

As more and more Irish died and wealthy naturalized citizens dodged the draft for $200, a
Artists depiction of the 1863 Draft Riots of New York
terrible tension grew in the cities, particularly New York City. Only a relatively short distance from the tenements, the upper middle class dined with silver spoons, ignoring the burgeoning population of immigrants which choked slums such as the Infamous 5 Points. Charles Dickens, who captured the misery of victorian London in his novel Oliver Twist once visited 5 Points, and was shocked by the abject squalor of the impoverished neighborhood. As escaped slaves began to flood the northern cities, many white foremen would hire them, as they asked for cheaper pay (or none at all) compared to the hopeful Irish immigrants. Resentment towards this demographic, fueled by racial prejudice, incited a horrific riot during 1863 when hundreds of angry men, many of whom were Irish swept through the streets in response to the increased Federal draft. They destroyed the homes of the wealthy, and began seizing and lynching several hundred African-Americans. The number of the dead is unclear, as so many were thrown into the river. The Union military was forced to march into the City and put an end to the riot, as the bulk of the police were off at war, and couldn't be brought to bear. The riot merely cemented the image of the Irishman in the WASP mentality; a drunken angry monster, ready to attack and destroy American gentility. The Irish built the railroads, subjected to the same conditions afforded their co-laborers, the Chinese and the African American workers. Around large industrial cities like Boston, decidedly Irish mill-towns thrived. NINA signs filled the windows, alongside those forbidding African Americans to drink from white fountains. When the mills failed the towns began to crumble, falling to extreme poverty much in the way of Detroit after the Collapse of GM.

St Patricks day became a rare moment of nationalism for the Irish. They continued to celebrate their heritage, as the memory of their homeland and the families they had left faded with time, and was all but forgotten with the passing of generations. In their harsh homeland, the symbolism of Whiskey, a pint of Guiness or a Beamish stout was one of small pleasures in a life of toil. In the hardship of the United States, pubs served as gathering places for these insular communities, a relic of the motherland. As depression, starvation and delinquency continued to pervade the Irish-American communities, The WASP hegemony seized the opportunity to portray the Irish as drunkards and louts to maintain the status quo and keep the Irish where they wanted them- subjugated in their mills and unable to climb the social ladder. 

Violence and discrimination toward the Irish exists worldwide today. It was only in 1972 that British forces opened fire upon Irish civil rights protestors, killing 26 and wounding more in the even immortalized in the U2 song, Bloody Sunday. Today, Irish soldiers have been reportedly treated with extreme prejudice within the British military. In Perth Australia, a bricklayer posted a NINA sign in 2012 which declared that he would not hire any Irishman on that grounds that they “too often fake ID's”; a parallel to America's own policies regarding modern immigration. Throughout Australia today, the Irish still face violence, which can result in death. In 2002, Julie Burchill wrote an intensely anti-Irish column in the Guardian, comparing them to “Nazis,” and “child molesters.” In 2013 an Irish flag was burned publicly in Liverpool, England. More subtly, the fad of mocking red-haired individuals, referred to as "gingers" within the United States is a lingering remnant of the derogatory stereotype of the Irishman whose hair matched his temperament, and served as a convenient and denigrating marker within society. Red-haired citizens were treated with contempt and admonition on these grounds, and the often parodied slogan that "gingers have no souls" triggers a painful memory of a time not so long ago when such words were accompanied by violence.

The maintenance of such a harmful image is damaging. Irish persecution has been largely swept under the rug, and the people themselves assimilated into the all-encompassing white identity. However, the blatant disrespect and hypocrisy of Saint Patrick's Day appropriation is stunning, especially when it is considered that dialogue concerning the stereotyping of Irish culture is relatively silent. Why in a society which so vehemently condemns cultural appropriation is this allowed to go unchecked? In a town as liberal as Amherst, no one stands in the street protesting. No one raises an eyebrow. An article about the tradition of Blarney Day even gives hangover tips for the students. Massachusetts Daily Collegian contributor Emily Brightman refers to the holiday as an “absurd drinking extravaganza.” That this popular image is unquestioningly associated with a day of cultural pride for a demographic upon whose backs this nation was built is appalling. What is more appalling is that no one seems to care, or question the status-quo. Could it be that it has simply become too enjoyable? Another moral obligation pushed aside in the mad rush to the nearest bar?

We can continue to criticize Katy Perry, or Redskins fans, but next time we don our leprechaun hats, plastic beads and head out to hit the bars with friends, let us raise a glass to the innumerable Irish-American men and women who bled, suffered and died for that self-same right, and wonder if the Irish costume is in better taste than that of a Geisha.