Friday, 17 October 2014

The Sauceboat of a Signer


It is amazing how one tiny fragment of pottery from an archaeological dig can tell us the appearance and function of an entire object. At Historic Annapolis, we have been delving deep into past archaeological records to see if they can tell us anything new about William Paca’s Annapolitan lifestyle.




Figure 1: White salt-glazed stoneware fragment found during the William Paca House garden excavations


This white salt-glazed stoneware fragment was dug up in the 1960s from the area just in front of the west wing of the William Paca House.[1] Although it may not look like much in its current state, a closer examination of its shape enables a direct match to be made with a white salt-glazed sauceboat on exhibition at the Victoria & Albert Museum in London. The diaper pattern and the rococo edge of the fragment perfectly matches the sauceboat. This match gives us a wealth of information about William Paca’s tastes in both fashion and food!





Figure 2: White salt-glazed stoneware sauce boat. © Victoria and Albert Museum, London. Online: http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O151250/sauce-boat-unknown/



The design of the sauceboat and the material in which it was made conveys that William Paca was an exceedingly fashionable gentleman. Rococo tableware was all the rage amongst elite circles from London to Annapolis in the third quarter of the eighteenth century. An excavation of the Calvert House on State Circle, Annapolis, has revealed that the Calvert family owned rococo style white salt-glazed plates with similar decorative motifs to William Paca’s sauceboat.




Figure 3: White salt-glazed plate from the Governor Calvert House. http://www.aia.umd.edu/seeking_liberty/gov_calvert.html


What would have been served in William Paca’s sauceboat?

The colonial dining table would often have included a large dish of meat or fish accompanied by a complementary sauce served in an elegant sauceboat. A popular combination was the serving of duck with an orange sauce, a pairing still popular today! To make your own authentic eighteenth-century dish, follow these instructions:


·         1.) Stuff a duck with a mixture of ducks liver, streaky bacon, butter, onions, parsley and mushrooms

·         2.) Place bacon slices on top of the duck and cover with paper (or foil if you want to follow twenty-first-century conventions!)

·         3.) When the duck has been roasted, pour some of the gravy juices into a stew pot

·         4.) Add minced shallots and the juice of an orange to the stew pot and heat[2]

·         5.) Serve the sauce in a beautiful rococo stoneware sauceboat



Figure 4. A little after Paca's time, a gentleman demonstrates the joy that a sauceboat (albeit a slightly less elegant version)  could bring.  A convalescing man happily eating a meal, assisted by his grinning servant, coloured etching by J. Sneyd, 1804, after J. Gillray.   © Wellcome Library, London http://catalogue.wellcomelibrary.org/record=b1160208


[1] Stanley South (1967). The Paca House: A Historical Archaeological Study. Alexandria, Va., Contract Archaeology.
[2] The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation. Online at http://recipes.history.org/2013/06/to-dress-duck-with-juice-of-oranges/

Friday, 12 September 2014

William Paca's "Sleeve Buttons"




Dusty, dog-eared reports that seem to sit unloved on office bookcases can bring to light a wealth of fascinating information; the William Paca cuff-link is a good case in point. Though this artefact has been known to us for some time, and even exhibited, it is revealing to revisit it and deepen our understanding of William Paca and late-eighteenth-century Annapolitan society as a whole. This brass cuff-link (or sleeve button as they were called in the 18th century) was recovered from the archaeological excavations of the William Paca garden in the 1960s. From pottery fragments in the same archaeological layer, we can date this sleeve button to the time when William Paca lived in Prince George’s Street meaning that this sleeve button was almost certainly worn by William Paca himself. Although the design has lost its clarity over the centuries, we can still make out the image of a running fox and the word “tallio”. This gives the sleeve button a novelty appearance and shows that during his free time, William Paca was a keen foxhunter (as well as a snappy dresser) . William Paca was not the only colonial to own such a cufflink. The same design was incredibly popular in eighteenth century America and identical sleeve buttons have also been found at Williamsburg and Ferry Farm, George Washington’s childhood home.[1] The use of accessories to express a love of a particular sport is still practiced by many Americans today. Think of the modern baseball cap. Originally an essential and purely practical element of the outfit, the baseball cap (like Paca’s cufflink) now carries various baseball related designs intended to mark the user out as an enthusiast. The men of the 18th century would have used their sleeve buttons to show that they were a fan of foxhunting much in the same way.



Figure 1:  Brass ‘tallio’ cufflink. The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation. Museum Purchase.


Hunting in Colonial America

The motif and lettering gives us a clear indication that the owner enjoyed foxhunting. “Tallio”,  a quaint misspelling of Tally-Ho, demonstrates that the vernacular of the British hunting gentry was easily transferred to America where the sport continued to be practiced. The British citizens of colonial America wished to continue the leisurely pursuits of their homeland.

Who participated in American foxhunts? In Britain, hunting was a marker of high society. Due to the Game Laws Act of 1671 which ruled that one’s land had to be worth upwards of £100 per annum to participate, hunting in Britain was restricted to the landed gentry.[2] The right to foxhunt was less restricted in colonial America. However, only the Anglo-American landed elite would have had enough leisure time and have owned enough hounds and horses to be able to run their own pack. Though slaves and servants did not hunt the foxes on horseback, they still participated in the sport as huntsmen who controlled the hounds.[3] 

American fox-hunting in the colonial period did not generally consist of organized clubs. Instead, men would hunt in informal packs.[4] An exception to this was the Gloucester Fox-hunting Club, probably the first formally organized club of this kind in America. Formed in 1766 in a Philadelphia Coffee house, this club was full of important men such as Benjamin Chase who each paid a subscription fee of £5 for the maintenance of foxhound kennels.[5] William Paca himself probably hunted in private, informal packs with men of his station, perhaps on their plantations. His interest in hunting is clear from his sleeve button. It is also known that he had a keen interest in horse sports as he was a member of the Maryland Jockey Club.[6] Its members in 1783 included other Annapolitan elites such as Charles Carroll of Carrollton.[7] Charles Carroll was known for his love of foxhunting; perhaps the two neighbors and signers spent a few afternoons hunting together.

Many of William Paca’s contemporaries expressed in writing their fondness for the sport. George Washington in particular records diligently in his diary the pleasant and sometimes frustrating hours he spent indulging his hobby. In September of 1768 he laments that he “Went fox hunting in the Neck. Started and run a fox or foxes three hours and then lost”.[8] John Adams, at a Sons of Liberty meeting in 1769 records in his diary that they watched a Mimickry of “The Hunting of the Bitch Fox” indicating that it was an accepted part of the culture of the Anglo-American elite.[9]



Figure 2: Fairfax Fox-hunting with Washington. Engraver Henry Bryan Hall (after Felix F.O.C. Darcey). in: Irving, W. (1855) The Life of George Washington.


Maryland: The home of American fox-hunting?

Colonial Maryland had a special association with fox-hunting and it is apparent that its residents had a particular fondness for the sport. Maryland, like other the other prominent hunting colonies, Virginia and Delaware, was free from a puritanical influence which condemned sport.[10] Foxhunting could therefore flourish free from any moral condemnation. It was in Maryland that the sport first came to America. An English settler to Queen Anne’s County brought his pack of foxhounds and held the first fox-hunt on record in America around 1650.[11] It was also in Maryland in 1730, on the Eastern Shore that a few tobacco planters, talking wistfully of the red foxes of ‘merrie England’, decided to import eight red foxes from Liverpool to hunt in place of Maryland’s native gray.[12]

An apocryphal tale of Charles Carroll of Carrollton demonstrates the distinct sense of pride that Marylanders had in their sport. The story goes that Charles Carroll claimed that “fox-hunting was the grandest sport ever invented by man and [was] sanctioned by an all-wise providence”.[13] In response, Light-Horse Harry Lee commented that “tis hell if your nag is slow and your hounds poor”.[14] Charles Carroll immediately responded, with an unabashed sense of state pride, “I refer to fox-hunting in Maryland, sir”.[15]

Fox-hunting held a special place in the heart of Marylanders in the colonial period, so much so that it altered the lawmaking process. The 1765 Dog Bill which imposed a tax on owning more than two necessary dogs faced so much outcry and opposition that it was later amended to include the exception that

the keeping of Fox Hounds for destroying of Foxes is usefull and Necessary and that therefore they should be Allowed to be kept Tax free.[16]

Considering all this, one can imagine William Paca riding out on his prize horse, wearing his Tallio sleeve buttons and spending an enjoyable afternoon hunting.


Bibliography

Black, J. (2005) A Subject for Taste. Hambledon and London.

The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation. Museum Purchase [http://emuseum.history.org/view/objects/asitem/search@/0?t:state:flow=3744955c-83b4-4822-b4ea-ee4b940333e4] Last Accessed: 09/04/2014

Culver, F. (1922) Blooded Horses of Colonial Days: Classic horse matches made in America before the Revolution. Kessinger Publishing.

Fine, N. (2010) “Tally-ho Back”Foxhunting in North America and the MFHA. Centennial View. MFHA Foundation.

Founders.archives (2014a). Washington Papers. Online [http://founders.archives.gov/?q=Series%3AWashington-01&s=1511211112&r=1561] Last accessed: 09/04/2014
Founders.archives (2014b). Adams Papers. Online [http://founders.archives.gov/?q=%20Author%3A%22Adams%2C%20John%22&s=1511211112&r=1] Last accessed: 09/04/2014

Schemmer, C. (2011). Scanning pieces of past. Online 
[http://fredericksburg.com/News/FLS/2011/092011/09272011/654031/index_html?page=1] Last accessed: 09/04/2014

Hiss, H. (1897) The Beginnings of Fox-hunting in America. Outing Magazine.

Maryland State Archives (2014). Proceedings and Acts of the General Assembly, 1766-1768 vol. 61. Online [http://aomol.msa.maryland.gov/000001/000061/html/am61--242.html] Last accessed: 09/04/2014

Stewart, S. (1971) A Historical Survey of Foxhunting in the United States, 1650-1970. Ma Thesis. Denton, Texas.

South, S. (1969) The Paca House: A Historical Archaeology Study. Contract Archaeology Inc, Alexandria, Va.



[1] Schemmer 2011
[2] Black 2005, 72
[3] Stewart 1971, 47
[4] Stewart 1971, 38
[5] Stewart 1971, 45
[6] Culver 1922, 70
[7] Culver 1922, 70
[8] Founders.archives 2014a
[9] Founders.archives 2014b
[10] Stewart 1971, 40
[11] Hiss 1897, 13
[12] Fine 2010, 3
[13] Hiss 1897, 160
[14] Hiss 1897, 160
[15] Hiss 1897, 160
[16] Maryland State Archives 2014

Thursday, 21 August 2014

The rocky road to the American Constitution

William Paca spent the better part of fifteen years in his Annapolis house before selling it in 1780 and moving to the Eastern Shore. During his time here he famously signed the Declaration of Independence and established his political career as a leading patriot. His time in the William Paca House was also his time in the political mainstream of the revolutionary movement. It wasn’t until the 1780s, however, when the debates around the Constitution arose that Paca and his good friend Samuel Chase broke away from the majority opinion. In what is perhaps the most intriguing part of his political career, Paca became a vocal Anti-Federalist. Let us explore the rocky road to the American Constitution and the continuation of Paca’s political life beyond Prince George Street.

It is easy now, two hundred or so years on, to see the American Constitution as the natural progression of American independence and a unifying bastion of the promotion of liberty and equality. Back in the 1780s, however, this was certainly not the case. Much like the path to independence, the ratification of the American Constitution was a long, drawn-out process immersed in quarrels and disagreement. 

Conflict was no longer aimed at an antagonistic empire overseas, seeking to impose top down control on American citizens. It became an internal struggle between individuals and groups with different ideas on what representation means and what independent America is meant to look like in practice. Rather than concord, the final product illuminates the very productivity of discord and political debate.

Depiction of the Boston Tea Party of 1773, Copy of lithograph by Sarony & Major, 1846. This media is available in the holdings of the National Archives and Records Administration, cataloged under the ARC Identifier (National Archives Identifier) 532892.

Shortly after the 1774 Boston Port Act, which called for the complete blocking of the port, seventy-eight men gathered in Annapolis to declare that Boston was now “suffering in the common cause of America.”[1] Annapolis then joined the boycott of goods to and from Britain, with an appointed committee including Charles Carroll of Carrollton, William Paca and Samuel Chase. On August 2, 1776 all of the aforementioned attended the Constitutional Congress in Philadelphia to sign what we now refer to as the Declaration of Independence (although this name is not used in the document at all!).

View of detail of Signers of the Declaration of Independence, reproduction of the 1936 Faulner mural by Romanian Artist, Gabriel Prundeanu, under commission of Stan Faryna. Location: Bucharest, Romania. Source: flickr.com, user: stan.faryna

Not without struggle, but certainly with an overwhelming majority united in pursuit of independence, the declaration was an “us” against “them” campaign, which was easier to argue, pursue and conceptualise.

Once independent, the 1770s saw a wave of individual state constitutions produced by local legislative bodies. Maryland’s own asserted that the legislative, executive and judicial powers of government ought to be forever separate and distinct from one another.[2] Maryland’s constitution was accompanied by a Bill of Rights, which was longer and more thorough than that of any other states attempting a similar document.[3]

So far so good? Not exactly.

The nature of each independent state constitution posed questions about the meaning of representation. What remained unclear was the purpose or role played by a constitution in each of these states. Was the constitution another statute confirmed by a congress of representatives? Was it a judicial statute – a law? If it was a law, and it ordered that judicial and legislative powers are separate, why was it always issued by a legislative power, therefore inherently contradicting its own principles? Was the constitution binding universally and permanently or was it, like the English common law, a document intending to evolve and be moulded by the times and people?

It was amongst these questions that Maryland underwent a “constitutional crisis”[4] illuminated by a series of discourses surrounding a paper money bill approved by Congress, but shut down by the house of senators. These public arguments were between men like William Paca and Samuel Chase, who defended the integrity of congress arguing against the constitution, and men like Charles Carroll of Carrollton, who asserted the integrity of the house of senate. It only took twelve years of independence, therefore, for Paca, Chase and Carroll to join opposing political camps. Once no longer united by a common enemy, Americans began to realise that they had very different ideas of what America should look like.

John Vanderlyn (1775–1852)James Madison,  The White House Historical Collection. Public domain.

A national constitution, the child of Madison, Jefferson (who is out of the country at that particular time) and the like, was not the natural progression from independence. For many it was unfair and controversial.

These debates were not confined to Maryland. Philadelphia and Virginia, too, experienced the fervent public debate. On 18 October 1787, in what is amongst the Teaching American History’s collection of the 50 Most Influential documents of American history, an anti-federalist under the pseudonym Brutus addressed the Citizens of the State of New York. He declared that “when the people once part with power, they can seldom or never resume it again but by force.”[5] This, for him, was what a national constitution demanded – that the people part with power.

Page of the first printing of the Federalist Papers, 1788. Authors: Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay. Source.

In fact, on 28 November, 1787, a Maryland farmer published a letter in the Maryland Gazette demanding that the constitution be given over to the people to be discussed. This was not because of his personal principle. It was because he noticed that “in very different parts of the continent, the very same objections have been made, and the very same alterations proposed by different writers, who [he] verily believe[s], know nothing of each other.”[6]

The constitution proposed at the Philadelphia convention was national, but it was also nationally disputed. Each side claimed to be the correct interpreter of the ideological underpinnings of the constitution. Each side would call upon Classical authorities, canon law, theological writing, the English dissenters of the 17th century and the pillars of the Enlightenment (Locke, Hume, Montesquieu etc.). 

Fundamentally, however, what the constitutional debates revealed was that the two sides which formed around them relied on different ideas of ‘representation’ and ‘constitution’. America’s founding fathers of 1774 wanted independence. Less than two decades later, they realised that what they wanted were different independencies. 

Written by OUIIP intern, Mirela Ivanova

To find out more about the Constitutional Debates in Maryland, and the path to the ratification of the American constitution come along to Mirela's talk “Laws without their consent: Paca and the Constitutional Debate” on Thursday, 21st August at 99 Main Street.  The talk will be preceded by a wine reception at 5.30pm.

Bibliography
Bailyn, B. The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution (Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1992)
Haw, J., Beirne, F.F., Beirne, R.R. and Jett, R.S.  Stormy Patriot: the Life of Samuel Chase (Baltimore: Maryland Historical Society,1980)
McWilliams, J.W.  Annapolis: City on the Severn ( Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2011)
Papenfuse, E.C. ‘With what dose of Liberty? Maryland’s Role in the Movement for a Bill of Rights’ (Paper to the University of Maryland given February, 1988)
Rakove J. N. The Annotated U.S. Constitution and Declaration of Independence (Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 2009)
Wood,G. The Creation of the American Republic, 1776-1787 (New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1975)
Yazawa, M.  Representative Government and the Revolution: the Maryland Constitutional Crisis of 1787 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1975



[1] J.W. McWilliams, Annapolis: City on the Severn ( Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2011) pp.87
[2] G.Wood, The Creation of the American Republic, 1776-1787 (New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1975) pp.150
[3] E.C. Papenfuse, ‘With what dose of Liberty? Maryland’s Role in the Movement for a Bill of Rights’ (Paper to the University of Maryland given February, 1988)
[4] M. Yazawa, Representative Government and the Revolution: the Maryland Constitutional Crisis of 1787 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1975) 
[5] Brutus I to the Citizens of the State of New York, 18 October 1787 (http://teachingamericanhistory.org/library/document/brutus-i/, last accessed August, 2014)
[6] Maryland Farmer to the Citizens of the State of Maryland, 28 November, 1787, (http://teachingamericanhistory.org/library/document/maryland-farmer/ , last accessed August, 2014)


Tuesday, 5 August 2014

Patriotism & Pottery: Archaeological evidence from the Paca House

Discovered during the archaeological excavation of the Paca House gardens, this interesting ceramic fragment has recently been brought to our attention. It was excavated from a kitchen midden (heap of domestic waste) alongside late 18th century pottery sherds and discarded oyster shells.[1] On this basis it can be dated to the immediate aftermath of the Revolutionary War, the period in which William Paca sold his house on Prince George Street to the lawyer Thomas Jenings.[2]

Fragment found in the Paca House gardens. South 1967, plate 85.

Patriotic Imagery
All that remains of the transfer printed image are two intertwining rings labelled “Delaware and Maryla[nd]”. These surround a figured design of which only an arm and a fallen crown remains. Fortunately, a complete example of this design exists in the form of a creamware pitcher. This preserved pitcher shows us how Jenings’ version would have looked when on display in the Paca house. It depicts the Arms of Virginia in the center with the names of the thirteen colonies around the outside and the words:

“Sic Semper Tyrannis”[3]
Thus always to tyrants

 
Creamware Pitcher with 'Arms of Virginia' design. McCauley 1942, plate XXXI.


The pitcher’s imagery celebrates the new and hard-bought independence of the colonies and denounces the tyranny of British rule. It is exactly the type of decorative object that one would expect to find in the home of the well-to-do American such as Jenings at the close of the 18th century. However, its place of production is at odds with its revolutionary imagery.

British Potters, American Designs
This piece of ceramic would have been made, printed, glazed and fired in the British port and pottery center of Liverpool.[4] This commercial agreement between American consumers and British producers is at first puzzling. Why would Americans wish to become patrons of British ceramics after nearly a decade of trade embargoes and war? Why would British potters print with such readiness designs that flaunt their recent defeat? This pitcher represents just one of many patriotic American designs produced and shipped in great quantities to America by British potters.[5] Other examples include a series of creamware blue plates that were created by Staffordshire potters in the 1790s in celebration of George Washington’s presidency.[6]

George Washington commemorative creamware plate. American Historical Staffordshire 2014a.


The zeal with which British potters created patriotic designs for the American market continued even when hostilities resumed between the United States and Great Britain during the War of 1812.[7] During the aftermath of this war, a new transfer-printed ceramic series was created which closely paralleled the Jenings pitcher in both design and theme.[8] Made by the Clew brothers in Staffordshire, the “States border series” adapted the pitcher’s decorative scheme of a patriotic scene celebrating independence encircled by the names of the states.[9]

States Series Border creamware platter. American Historical Staffordshire 2014b.

The success of this transatlantic commercial endeavor can be explained by the ingenuity of British potters responding to a burgeoning market. Thanks to industrialization and the innovative development of creamware (a cheaper alternative to Chinese porcelain) by Josiah Wedgwood, English ceramics were desirable imports across the pond.[10] It was however, the marketing skills and good business sense of British potters that enabled them to capitalize on a variety of markets and patrons ranging from European royalty, the British middle classes to the newly independent and patriotic citizens of the United States.[11] Thomas Jenings of Annapolis was just one such customer who expressed his patriotism through the ingenuity of the British ceramics industry.

Written by OUIIP intern, Florence Douglas

If you want to hear more about colonial and federalist pottery from the Paca House, be sure to attend Florence's evening talk on the 28th of August. See our website for more details.

Bibliography
American Historical Staffordshire 2014a. A rare early American themed plate. Available at: http://www.americanhistoricalstaffordshire.com/pottery/ceramics/rare-early-american-themed-plate. Last accessed 8/5/2014.
American Historical Staffordshire 2014b. America and Independence #04. Available at: http://www.americanhistoricalstaffordshire.com/pottery/printed-designs/patterns/america-independence-04.  Last accessed 8/5/2014.
McCauley, R. 1942. Liverpool Transfer Designs on Anglo-American Pottery. The Southworth-Anthoensen Press.
Miller, G. 1984. Marketing Ceramics in North America: An introduction. Winterthur Portfolio 19 (1): 1-5.
Nelson, C. 1980. Transfer-printed Creamware and Pearlware for the American market. Winterthur Portfolio 15 (2): 93-115.
South, S. 1967. The Paca House: A Historical Archaeology Study. Contract Archaeology Inc, Alexandria, Va.



[1] South 1967, 140
[2] South 1967, 38
[3] McCauley 1942, 129
[4] McCauley 1942, 129
[5] Nelson 1980, 94
[6] American Historical Staffordshire 2014a
[7] Nelson 1980, 99
[8] American Historical Staffordshire 2014b
[9] American Historical Staffordshire 2014b
[10] Miller 1984
[11] Miller 1984, 2

Tuesday, 22 July 2014

Illuminating eighteenth-century lighting

Recently, we've been thinking about what sort of lighting William Paca might have had in his summerhouse - if any at all. Eighteenth-century lighting in general is an interesting topic; everyday activities were governed by each individual's access - but mostly a lack of access! - to lighting.

Which types of candles and fittings would have been used in the house?
Spermaceti candles would have been favored by the Paca household. These were of high quality and would not have been used exclusively. Made from the oil found in the head of a sperm whale, spermaceti candles were described by John Adams in 1785 as giving "the clearest and most beautiful flame of any substance that is known in nature". This is an excerpt from Adams' attempts to convince William Pitt the Younger of the good sense in importing spermaceti candles from American whalers. He wrote, "we are all surprised that you prefer darkness".[1]

If you visit the William Paca House, many of the candlesticks on display are without candles. This is because the house is shown during the day; candles were so valuable that when they were not needed they would have been kept under lock and key.

James Gillray, Lady Godina's Rout, 1796
Notice the candles and the sconce, rather than the feathers and the low necklines. The man at the center of the etching is holding a pair of candlesnuffers. These would be used not to extinguish the flame, but - as this man is perhaps attempting, although he is so distracted that the snuffers are the wrong way up - to trim the candle wick. The cups at the side of the instrument are intended to catch the trimmed wick.

It was in the middle of the eighteenth century that wall lights known as girandoles (or sconces) came into fashion. Girandoles would often be designed in the rococo style, but one commentator from 1762 gives a more precise description: "four-armed cut glass candle-sticks, ornamented with stars and drops, properly called girandoles".[2] The term seems to have been used much more loosely than this. Girandoles were not only fixtures of cut glass, but of lacquered wood, brass, and silver.

Before sconces, most wall mirrors would not have been complete without a pair of metal candle branches attached. The prevalence of these features in early eighteenth century mirrors demonstrates that wall lighting was a very ordinary method of lighting a room from the beginning of the century.[3]

Stand-alone candlesticks were also used in increasing numbers throughout the eighteenth century. From about 1750 they tended to be taller and generally bigger, especially those of silver and Sheffield plate. Sheffield plate candlesticks of this kind are on display at the William Paca House.

Henry Sargent, Tea Party, 1824
(Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Chandeliers were a symbol of great extravagance in William Paca's time, but they were nevertheless popular in the last quarter of the eighteenth century.[4] Upon George III's visit to Bulstrode Park in Buckinghamshire, England, in 1779, Mrs Delany wrote "Her Grace had the house lighted up in a most magnificent manner ; the chandelier in the great hall was not lighted before for twenty years".[5] The expense of lighting eight or more candles in one small area of a room would only be borne in exceptional circumstances. Even when many candles could be afforded by a household, they were treated as a precious commodity. The wealthiest of men and women would avoid wasting candles when reading or sewing alone, just as their poorer contemporaries did.

Oil lamps in the home
Oil lamps did not enter the home on any great scale until the early 1780s, when the Argand lamp was invented. The cylindrical wicks in these lamps were placed between inner and outer tubes, allowing air to circulate and facilitating the burning of oil. The lamps allowed for a much brighter, cleaner light - most importantly, with a smokeless flame![6] These lamps still created dirt, unfortunately. Yet before Aimé Argand, a Swiss inventor, created the new lamp oil, lamps had produced far too much sooty smoke to be used in the home.

Oil lamps did not completely replace the candle, however. Quicker burning of oil meant that more oil was burned. This was costly. A lamp could not provide as much light as a single candle for as little money. However, on the same terms, a cluster of candles was no match for a lamp when more light was wanted.[7]

Lighting the streets
William Hogarth, 'Four Times of the Day: Night', 1737. © Trustees of the British Museum
In early eighteenth-century London, before the advent of oil lamps on the streets (from 1750), candles were relied upon to light the way home at night.

Joshua Reynolds, Cupid as Link Boy, c.1771
Link men and boys were hired to illuminate the streets during night-time journeys, or when a thick fog descended upon London. A "link" was a torch made of pitch and tow. These boys had a reputation for deceit - often leading unwitting travelers into dark alleys, where they would be assailed by footpads (thieves who targeted those travelling on foot). You will find such a boy crouching in the left corner of the Hogarth print above. Part of a novella from a 1773 London magazine describes the assumed nature of a link boy; "I recollected that his lordship was deeply in the science of filching, lying, outwitting, cheating, impudence, and other link-boy qualities."[8]

This portrait by Joshua Reynolds, laden with meaning, depicts Cupid disguised as a link boy - with black wings. The boy may appear sad, but he is also mischievous. Just as a link boy would play tricks on his customers, Cupid is unlikely to lead his customers along a simple path to love.

There were many opportunities for street crime at a time when travelers still relied on handheld lamps. The Rowlandson print below is an apt illustration of the pervasiveness of crime in unlit streets. To the far right of the print a woman says, "If this light is not put a stop too [sic] - we must give up our business. We may as well shut up shop." The situation would have been similar in America, though perhaps not so dire as that of the crime-ridden streets of London! William Paca lived in a time of transition - when the old methods of lighting the way through the dark were still in place, but new technologies were making rapid advancements.

Street lamps were of serious importance (for the aforementioned reasons!), and their development was of concern to some of the greatest minds of the time. In his memoirs, Benjamin Franklin wrote of his suggestions for the improvement of American streetlights in 1757; "I therefore suggested the [sic] composing them of four flat panes, with a long funnel above to draw out the smoke, and crevices admitting air below to facilitate the ascent of the smoke; by this means they were kept clean, and did not grow dark in a few hours, as the London lamps do".[9]

Thomas Rowlandson, A Peep at the Gas Lights in Pall-Mall, 1809. © Trustees of the British Museum

A few decades after William Paca left his house in Annapolis, however, oil lamps were being superseded by gas. In 1816, Rubens and Rembrandt Peale organized great displays of gas lighting on a huge scale, making themselves pioneers in the use of gas lighting in America.  Rubens' display of gas lighting in the Peale Museum in Baltimore was a great feat: "By March 1 five hundred feet of soldered tin pipe had been installed, and elegant fixtures, with cut-glass ornamentation, were in place ... a month later they had gas burning in the rooms, blue, clear, and odorless".[11]

Gas lighting was already developing quickly in England, but in Baltimore the Peales created extraordinary displays of light. Rembrandt Peale was active in the creation of the first American company for municipal gas lighting: the Gas Light Company of Baltimore. In gas lighting, Baltimore led the way for Philadelphia - making further trouble for those who worked best in the dark.

Written by OUIIP intern, Elena Porter

Further reading:


[1] Papers of John Adams, Volume 16: February 1784 - March 1785. Harvard University Press. p.15 (Google Books: link)
[2] Quoted in N. F. Little, "Lighting in Colonial Records", Old-Time New England, vol. 42, no.4 (1952), p.100. Referenced in E. D. Garrett, 'The American home: Part II: Lighting devices and practices', in L. S. Cooke (ed.), Lighting in America: From Colonial Rushlights to Victorian Chandeliers: A New and Expanded Edition. (Pittstown, New Jersey, 1984 (Revised Edition)), The Main Street Press. p.159
[3] R. W. Symonds, 'Eighteenth-Century Lighting Devices: Wall Fittings and Candlesticks', in L. S. Cooke (ed.), Lighting in America: From Colonial Rushlights to Victorian Chandeliers: A New and Expanded Edition. (Pittstown, New Jersey, 1984 (Revised Edition)), The Main Street Press. pp.106-109
[4] R. W. Symonds, 'Eighteenth-Century Lighting Devices: Wall Fittings and Candlesticks',  p.109
[5] J. Fowler and J. Cornforth, English Decoration in the 18th Century (London, 1983)p.222
[6] 'Argand burner', Britannica Academic Edition.
[7] J. Fowler and J. Conforth, English Decoration in the 18th Century, p.224
[8] The London magazine. Or, Gentleman's monthly intelligencer. Vol. XLII, 1773. London [England],  [1747-1783]. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Gale. University of Oxford. 21 July 2014 
[9] Memoirs of Benjamin Franklin, vol. 1, McCarty & Davis: Philadelphia. p.51.
[11] C. C. Sellers, Charles Willson Peale (New York, 1969). MPublishing, University of Michigan Library. p.379. <http://hdl.handle.net/2027/heb.00747.0001.001>