"IF you are fond of romance, read history,”--the counsel of the learned Frenchman applies with special force to the stories of America’s pioneers, for the true record of their adventures surpasses in marvels the fanciful imaginings of the weavers of romance. Out of the long list of achievements of those adventurous spirits of many lands who, from motives of conquest, exploration or home-making, braved the perils of unknown seas and came to America, the English potters selected but three incidents to illustrate and reproduce upon the sets of tableware destined for this young Republic--the Landing of Christopher Columbus, the Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers, and the Treaty of William Penn with the Indians.
The first series of views, numbering nine or more from the pottery works of Adams in Tunstall, Staffordshire, are fanciful sketches of the Landing of Christopher Columbus in America. Printed in red, green, purple, or black, upon plates and platters, the designs portray a wilderness inlet, with two, sometimes three, caravels at anchor in the bay, and small boats coming from them to the shore. Columbus is represented upon the beach, together with one or more of his Spanish companions; and native redmen in picturesque costumes are in hiding behind clumps of trees and shrubs. Tents and dogs are also in evidence, and upon one plate, here presented, an Indian is shooting at a wild goose. The border of the series consists of a pattern of roses, alternating with scrolls framing tiny landscape scenes, wherein roam wild deer and moose--animals native to the Western Continent. The trees and foliage of the Columbus series are tropical--tall cocoanut palms with fruit among the leaves, broad-leaved banana plants and other growths of the southland which Columbus found; for the English potters, like Columbus, long imagined the entire length of the Western Hemisphere one stretch of tropic or Oriental wilderness.
Indeed, the beliefs of European peoples of the fifteenth century, in which Columbus lived, in regard to the earth seem at the present time extremely curious. The marvelous tales which Marco Polo and his father had brought to Europe a century before from their journey into the Far East, and the glitter of the diamonds, emeralds, rubies and pearls which fell from out their coats when the seams were opened at a famous dinner party in Venice, still dazzled the minds of men. To find a shorter and less dangerous route to that kingdom which Marco had discovered in Cathay, ruled over by a Tartar Khan who dwelt in a palace roofed with plates of gold, was the dream of every seaman. Wise men were saying, as some of the ancient 'Greeks had done, that the earth was a sphere or a pear-shaped object rather than the flat surface they had been taught to believe it--why not, then, to the west instead of to the east, might lie the shore of India where dwelt the lordly Khan? Thus Columbus argued, and his tina] doubt was removed when a learned man of Florence sent him a globe and a chart, both plainly marked with the western route to the eastern shores “where the spices grow.”
But when Columbus laid his plan of sailing westward in search of India before King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella, the learned company which they called together to question him declared that it would take three years of sailing to reach this far-off shore, and that the sailors would die of starvation before they came to it. “Is any one so foolish to believe,” they asked, “that there are antipodes with their feet opposite to ours; people who walk with their heels upward and their heads hanging down? Where trees grow with their branches downwards, and where it rains, hails and snows upwards?" Several of them objected that should a ship at last succeed in reaching India, it would be impossible for it to climb up the rotundity of the globe and get back again.
Familiar to all is the story of the three caravels, how they were fitted out in the harbor of Palos in Spain, the Queen selling her jewels to obtain the necessary funds for the expedition, and how Columbus and his companions, after prayers were said for their safety, sailed out amid the tears and cheers of their friends, into the unknown waste of sea.
At last the morning of October 12, in the year 1492, dawns. Upon the plate the hero is pictured stepping upon the far-off shore, the ten weeks of sailing into the trackless West, of watching for signs of land, of cheering the disheartened spirits of his men at an end, his dreams come true. Two of the Spanish caravels ride at anchor in the harbor, a small boat filled with their men approaching shore. This to them is a new country and these are a strange people who greet them—Indians, Columbus names them—upon whose naked bodies gleam rude ornaments of gold, and who crouch in fear behind the trees, bows and arrows in their hands ready for defense. Is not this a part of the kingdom of Kublai Khan—perhaps the island of Cimpango (Japan) which Marco told about ? Columbus, as the illustrated platter shows, comes ashore arrayed in scarlet clothes, the royal ensign in his hands. Behind him follow his men, some bearing crosses, others holding aloft the standard of the enterprise—a green banner embroidered with crowns and the letters F and Y, the initials of Spain's rulers Fernando and Ysabel. Columbus kneels, kisses the ground and draws his sword in the name of Spain, calling the land in honor of their safe arrival, San Salvador —now Watling's Island.
The Spaniards are no less objects of wonder to the natives. Observe them in the picture peering from behind the palm trees at the marvelous beings who, as they believe, have flown down from the sky in their winged boats. They come out from their hiding places and touch the beards and armor and dress of the Spaniards, and they gladly exchange their golden ornaments for the gay caps, beads and bells which are offered them. When asked where the gold comes from, they point to the south and say that a great king lives there who is so rich that he is served in vessels of gold—surely, thinks Columbus, the "Khan" of Marco's tales.
After building a rude fort and a few huts on the nearby Island of Haiti, Columbus left a number of his men to search the island for gold, while he himself sailed back to Spain. Upon his arrival, he arranged a procession of American Indians bearing palm branches and gayly colored parrots—Indians and palms and parrots all brought by him from the new world he had discovered. The procession wound its way through the crowded streets of Barcelona to Ferdinand and Isabella, who were seated upon a throne in the open air, under a canopy of gold brocade, and there Columbus related his adventures.
It may be a surprise to find horses pictured in one Columbus view, but Columbus tells us in his journal that upon his second voyage to the new land he brought Spanish horses, as well as other animals, in the little caravels. His men rode the horses into the interior of the island to visit the gold mines in the mountains, and the latives upon seeing them believed them a new kind of being, the horse and rider one animal, and great was their astonishment when the men dismounted. Of the subsequent adventures of Columbus in his later journeys to America the potter-historians have left no record, but the remainder of the tale, which the pictured dishes have given us an eager desire to learn, may be found in the delightful diary of his daily life in the Western Hemisphere which Columbus kept for Queen Isabella.
Although Columbus, by finding land to the west, had the good fortune to solve "the mystery of the age," to the end of his life he never knew that he had discovered a world. But another mystery, one which in his time puzzled the minds of scholars, Columbus believed he had cleared—the whereabouts of the Garden of Eden. Wise men had located the home of our first parents in various parts of Asia; Dante in his Divine Comedy had placed it upon a mountaintop in the midst of the southern ocean; Columbus, one day while coasting the northern shore of South America, was almost capsized by a swift flood of fresh water which poured out of the land and, as he said, "sweetened the sea." He believed that this flood, now known as the Orinoco River, descended from a great height of land which was the summit of the pearshaped earth, and that this river had its origin in the Fountain which springs from the Tree of Life, in the midst of the Garden of Eden.
The Landing of the Pilgrims
The second romance of pioneer America which is recorded in the pottery decorations is also a "Landing" scene, but, in place of a gayly clad hero joyfully claiming a new world for a royal crown, here is pictured a small band of English Pilgrims struggling in a stormy sea to draw their shallop upon the "rockbound coast" of New England. Out at anchor in the bay rides the small, three-masted sailing vessel, the Mayflower, which after a cold, bleak voyage of 63 days has brought the company of 102 brave souls from the Old World to seek in this untried wilderness of the New, freedom to worship God, not according to the laws of a king, but in response to the dictates of their own consciences.Upon leaving the harbor of Plymouth, in England, the Pilgrims wished to find homes near the Delaware River, but had been driven by storms far to the north, sighting first the land of Cape Cod, where they decided to embark. Two days after reaching the site of their future homes, on November 11, 1620, the Mayflower's company, wishing to "combine together in one body and to submit to such government and governors as we should by common consent make and choose," signed a Compact in the cabin, pledging themselves faithfully to keep what laws should be made—the first Declaration of Independence in America and the herald of that freedom in matters of government which has made of this country a Promised Land. After five weeks of exploration, the Mayflower reached the shore of Plymouth, the excellent bay, the wooded hills and pleasant streams which they discovered deciding the party to land; a bowlder protected by an ornamental shelter to-day marks the spot upon which the Pilgrims first set foot in America.
In the illustration, may be seen John Alden, "the youngest of those who came in the Mayflower," stepping first upon the rock. The two Indians standing on shore, one of them with arms outstretched as if in welcome, are no doubt intended by the artist to represent Samoset and Squanto, who unexpectedly appeared at the new settlement and astonished the people by saying in the excellent English which they had learned from earlier comers: "Welcome, Englishmen! Welcome, Englishmen!" and who, after a treaty had been arranged between Miles Standish and the Indian tribes, proved of great service in teaching the Pilgrims the ways of life in the strange wilderness. Upon the rock, may be read, "Carver, Bradford, Winslow, Brewster and Standish,"—five of the most famous names of that little company who, as William Bradford said, "agreed to walk together" in this new land. The border of the design comprises a sketch of the national eagle, together with scrolls encircling the later historic dates, "America Independent, July 4,1776," and "Washington Born 1732, Died 1799."
John Carver was chosen the first Governor of the English colony, and before the first spring came round a row of low, thatched-roofed, log-houses lined one side of the street bordering the bay, the residence of the Governor inclosed in a square blockade upon the opposite side, and atop the neighboring hill a fort fortified for defense ; a meeting-house and a store-house had also been built. But the first spring saw likewise the graves of over one-half the band who had come in the Mayflower, John Carver's among the number, the cold and privations of the wilderness being more than they were able to endure; but, "It is not with us as with men whom small things can discourage or small discontentments cause to wish themselves home again," Elder Brewster said, speaking for the entire company. To succeed Governor Carver, they selected for Governor William Bradford, who remained in that office for 37 years. As the months went by, however, other vessels brought to them from England new companions and fresh stores of provisions, and renewed courage was theirs to establish firmly their own and other colonies along the Massachusetts coast.
Two hundred years after the Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers, in the year 1820, the specimens of tableware pictured in the illustrations were made in the pottery of Enoch Wood, in Staffordshire, being parts of dinner-sets which at that time were sent over to this country in large quantities as souvenirs of the many celebrations of the bi-centennial. Much dining and speech-making in honor of the historic Landing took place that year throughout the United States, the principal festivities being held in Plymouth, Massachusetts, the scene of the original incident. And the banquet, at which Daniel Webster made one of his most famous addresses, was served upon one of the souvenir dinner-sets, the guests, as they listened to the speaker's eloquent periods, looking down upon the pictured scene which was the theme of his inspiration.
We as a nation owe much to this little group of Puritan Fathers, which is so quaintly presented upon the old blue dishes—the deep Christian faith which they brought with them, the love of freedom, the respect for law—convictions which took firm root and flourished bravely in the fresh New England soil. And later on, from out that Massachusetts colony of noble men and women there sprang and grew to manhood those regiments of fearless and liberty-loving patriots who, in Revolutionary times, laid so strong and deep the foundations of the American Republic. With Daniel Webster upon that notable anniversary day, we would ask: "Who would wish that his country's existence had otherwise begun?"
William Penn's Treaty with the Indians
One Staffordshire potter, Thomas Green, who potted between the years 1847-59, at Fenton, England, seems to have made use of but a single episode of American history for the decoration of the ware which he shipped across the sea to his American patrons—the famous Treaty of Shackamaxon, which his compatriot, William Penn, concluded with the tribes of Indians who roamed the forests about his new settlement of Philadelphia. As many as a dozen variants of the "Penn's Treaty" scene have been found in recent years, printed upon plates in the colors of the later period of Staffordshire manufacture—red, black, brown, green, pink and light blue—the border of the series being a delicate pattern of small diamond-shaped figures arranged to imitate open-work.The sketches used in the Thomas Green pottery, two of which are presented, are the product of the imagination of English draughtsmen, who held somewhat vague ideas as to the character of American scenery. The fact of the Treaty being held under an elm tree is a tradition so well established that dispute is futile, the spreading elm pictured in old prints upon the bank of the Delaware River taking its place in the galaxy of the world's historic trees. Nevertheless, in these sketches Penn and his companions are represented in Quaker garb, the artist having omitted to designate the blue silk sash with which, tradition says, Penn was girt about the waist upon the occasion, standing under a tall cocoanut palm tree conspicuously laden with fruit. In the background Eastern pagodas may be seen, one of them sheltering a group of squatting squaws. Upon one Treaty plate, Penn himself may be found in the robe of an oriental mandarin—palms, pagodas, and robe all proofs of the prevalent English belief as late as but a century ago in the tropical and oriental character of the world which Columbus discovered, an idea difficult, it seems, to efface from the European mind, which for so long had been nourished upon the adventures of Marco Polo and other eastern travelers who cherished the belief of the western route to India. Penn is represented holding the parchment Treaty in his hand, Indians in fanciful costumes, with beautiful head-dresses, are conversing with him, one of the braves extending his hand as if about to receive the document.
Another "Treaty" scene, printed by an unknown potter upon a porcelain plate, is a reproduction of one of Benjamin West's famous paintings of the historic incident. Herein, a tall branching tree, supposedly the elm, is represented as sheltering a small assemblage of Indians and Quakers, while Penn stands in the center of the group pointing to the document, which is being examined by the braves in the foreground. The background presents a row of buildings. Benjamin West lived in Philadelphia sufficiently early in its history to have heard the direct tradition of the Treaty, and in one of his paintings of the subject he drew the portrait of his grandfather as one of the group of Friends attendant upon Penn, history recording the fact that he was present upon the occasion—a fact which, it is said, inspired West to become a painter of the subject. The English characters in West's paintings were all intended to be resemblances and were so far true to life that at least one old-time citizen of Philadelphia could name them all. Much to the regret of early Philadelphians, however, Penn neglected truth so far as to have omitted the river scenery; to have given a wrong impression of the form of the Treaty tree; and to have put into the background a range of houses "which were certainly never exactly found at Shackamaxon." But his critics declared the extenuating circumstances that the artist was in England at the time he executed the paintings, and therefore could have no picture of the scene before his eyes.
A careful study of all of the designs, however, displays neglect of the actual scene upon that historic occasion. Each artist has failed to put into his picture those crescent-shaped groups of redmen who, as Penn records, seated themselves in the open air by the river's side, in solemn audience upon that autumn day in the year 1682, "according to the mode of their ancestors, under a grove of shady trees, where the little birds on the boughs were warbling their sweet notes." In the front row, sat the chiefs of the tribes with their wise men beside them; behind these, in the form of another half moon, sat the middle aged men; and, in the same form, still farther back, the "young fry."
None spoke but the aged. One may picture to himself the solemn air with which Penn arose and presented to Tawenna, the Chief Sachem, the roll of parchment—that treaty "which was not sworn to and never broken." After the terms of the treaty had been explained by an interpreter, Penn admonished the Indians to preserve the parchment carefully for three generations, that their children might know what had passed between them just as if he had remained to repeat it.
Thereupon, the Chief Tawenna slowly rose and offered to Penn, in exchange for the parchment, a Belt of Peace, at the same time declaring with great solemnity that "all Penn's people and all the Indians shall be brothers of one father, joined together as with one heart, one head and one body; that all the paths shall be open free to both; that the doors of Christian houses and the wigwams of the Indians shall be open and the people shall make one another welcome; that they shall not believe false rumors of one another, but, when heard, they shall bury them in a bottomless pit; that no harm shall be done, one to another; that complaints of wrong doing shall be made by either side; and, finally, that both Christians and Indians shall acquaint their children with the league and chain of friendship, and that it shall always be made stronger and be kept bright and clean, without rust or spot, between our children and children's children, while the creeks and rivers run, and while the sun, moon and stars endure."
This famous Indian Belt of Peace is now in the possession of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, as it was brought over from England in the year 1857 by a great-grandson of William Penn, and presented to the Society. The belt is woven of eighteen strings of wampum, or beads made from muscle shells which grow upon the shores of our Southern States. It is twenty-six inches long and nine inches wide, the color being white, which signifies that it is a Peace Belt. In the center, two figures made of violet beads are represented—one, an Indian, is grasping in friendship the hand of another man, a European, known by the fact that he has a hat on his head! The Indian belts were the customary public records of the tribes and were preserved by them in chests; they were taken out occasionally, and the words spoken again which were spoken at the time of their giving.
In this manner, as the old-china records call to mind, under the elm tree was cemented that friendship between the Pennsylvania pioneers and their savage neighbors, which made possible the growth and prosperity of Penn's City of Brotherly Love. For more than a century after the Treaty, the historic elm stood upon the river bank, always cared for in the midst of the busy scenes of the wharf. In the later years of his life, Benjamin West wrote of the tree: "This tree, which was held in the highest veneration by the original inhabitants of my native country, by the first settlers, and by their descendants, and to which I well remember, about the year 1755, when a boy, often resorting with my school fellows, was in some danger during the American War, when the British possessed the country, from parties sent out in search of wood for firing; but the late General Simcoe, who had the command of the district where it grew (from a regard for the character of William Penn, and the interest he took in the history connected with the tree), ordered a guard of British soldiers to protect it from the axe. This circumstance the General related to me, in answer to my inquiries, after his return to England."
Upon a Saturday night in March, in the year 1810, the elm was blown down in a storm, the root being wrenched and the trunk broken off. Upon the following day, many hundreds of people visited the spot to look upon it. The tree is described as having been remarkably wide spread, but not lofty, its main branches which inclined toward the river measuring 150 feet in length, its girth 24 feet and its age, as counted by the circles of annual growth, 283 years. Many souvenirs were, made from the wood, chairs, desks, picture frames, etc. Its most fitting memorial, however, was a descendant of the tree itself, grown from a stripling, which until the year 1841, flourished in the lawn of-the Pennsylvania Hospital, no doubt one of the trees to be seen in the illustration of that institution which has been presented in a former chapter. A marble monument has since been erected near the site of the original elm, the inscription upon its four sides being, "Treaty Ground of William Penn and the Indian Nations, 1682, Unbroken Faith; William Penn, Born 1644, Died, 1718; Placed by the Penn Society, A. D. 1827, to mark the site of the Great Elm Tree; Pennsylvania Founded, 1681, by Deeds of Peace." A commemorative poem to the Treaty Elm, written by a loyal Philadelphian of history-loving bent, closes with these lines:
Tho' Time has devoted our Tree to decay,(From The Blue-China Book by Ada Walker Camehl, 1916.)
The sage lessons it witness'd survive to our day,
May our trustworthy statesmen, when call'd to the helm,
Ne'er forget the wise Treaty held under our Elm.
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