It Ain’t Necessarily So

…or How a Vermonter Brought His Girlfriend to a Minstrel Show

Locks of love and tick­et stubs
By Mark R. Moore, Ver­mont Asso­ciate at Danville His­tor­i­cal House
Beside the two tick­et stubs that lie before me on the desk are two locks of hair. One is longer, thick and satiny with a slight curl. The oth­er is wispy and of a rougher texture.

Like many things at His­tor­i­cal House, a glance at the sur­face of what one encoun­ters does not reveal the facts. Instead, these items are more like a mul­ti-faceted dia­mond, a kalei­do­scope of thoughts and con­clu­sions that change with the slight­est turn. The facts must be eval­u­at­ed against the par­tial evi­dence that we have before us as well as our knowl­edge of the past, placed in con­text of the present. Add to that the knowl­edge we gath­er from out­side sources, and it will bal­ance our first gut reactions.

Con­sid­er my response to the two tick­et stubs, num­bered 31 and 32, tucked into a diary along with the locks of hair owned by Her­bert Stan­ton of North Danville, Ver­mont. The diary is dat­ed 1904, and the bal­cony tick­ets are dat­ed Fri­day Evening, March 23, 1906, for a per­for­mance of the Jubilee Min­strels at the Music Hall in Saint Johnsbury.

The first con­clu­sion seems easy enough. Since no record is found in sev­er­al years of the diaries of Her­bert and Homer, his broth­er, that they have been out togeth­er in side-by-side seats, I can guess they were occu­pied by Her­bert and Flo­rence John­son, a cer­ti­fied teacher, who would lat­er become Herbert’s wife.

Next, let’s tack­le the enter­tain­ment they saw on that Fri­day night. It involves some “gut guess­ing” based on knowl­edge of the past. A lit­tle Inter­net research brings up William H. West, who ran his Big Min­strel Jubilee troupe. Accord­ing to a poster from the ear­ly 1900s, the show fea­tured white per­form­ers using burnt cork or shoe pol­ish to black­en their skin and exag­ger­ate their lips. Undoubt­ed­ly, this show fea­tured skits and the singing of “gen­uine” Negro tunes and dances. Begin­ning in 1831, and last­ing into the mid­dle of the last cen­tu­ry, there were over 700 min­strel show com­pa­nies and performers.

This type of enter­tain­ment exist­ed in Danville up until at least the 1950s. A pho­to by local his­to­ri­an, Ten­nie Tou­s­saint, records two such enter­tain­ers in black­face. Winona Gadapee and Bet­ty Calkins, local res­i­dents, remem­ber per­form­ing in such min­strel shows in school. Susan Hur­ley-Glowa, Assis­tant Pro­fes­sor of Music at Franklin and Mar­shall Col­lege in Lan­cast­er, Penn­syl­va­nia, decries these shows, stat­ing that “the sur­vival of black­face min­strels in Ver­mont are the last cry of a threat­ened sub­cul­ture that strong­ly iden­ti­fies with the past and clings to nos­tal­gic notices of nine­teenth cen­tu­ry moral­i­ty and men­tal­i­ty.” The last record­ed min­strel show in Ver­mont took place in Tun­bridge in 1991.

But musi­col­o­gist Charles Hamm coun­ters that harsh eval­u­a­tion by rec­og­niz­ing Ver­mont had very few peo­ple of col­or and “com­mu­ni­ty peo­ple described the show as a part of a tra­di­tion: it was fam­i­ly and com­mu­ni­ty ori­ent­ed, involv­ing peo­ple of all ages and pro­fes­sions; it raised mon­ey for local schol­ar­ships; it was good home­spun enter­tain­ment that allowed the towns­peo­ple to laugh at themselves…According to them, the shows were not about ‘mak­ing fun of blacks,’ they were just the style of musi­cal com­e­dy that suit­ed them best.”

A pho­to from Ten­nie Tou­s­sain­t’s pho­to col­lec­tion at the Bailey/Howe

Most like­ly, Her­bert and Flo­rence saw one of the black­face min­strel shows. If the show had been in 1872, though, they would have seen an extra­or­di­nary group that actu­al­ly per­formed in St. Johnsbury–the Fisk Jubilee Singers from Fisk Uni­ver­si­ty, an all-black Uni­ver­si­ty in Nashville, Tennessee.

The Jubilee Singers took their name from the year of jubilee, described in the 25th Chap­ter of Leviti­cus, in which the slaves were set free every 50 years. Dur­ing their sec­ond tour, late in the l9th cen­tu­ry, the troupe is report­ed to have per­formed at the White House, Hen­ry Ward Beecher’s Ply­mouth Church in Brook­lyn and for Euro­pean roy­al­ty. Their efforts raised $150,000 for the Uni­ver­si­ty. The troupe includ­ed a full range of voic­es: sopra­no, con­tral­to, tenor and bass as well as piano, organ and gui­tar. The Jubilee Singers still per­form today.

Regard­less of which show they saw, they were most like­ly treat­ed to a night that fea­tured Steven Fos­ter songs and spir­i­tu­als such as “Swing Low, Sweet Char­i­ot.” What moti­vat­ed Her­bert to place the locks of his wispy hair and Florence’s curls togeth­er with the tick­et stubs in the diary? Were their spir­its uplift­ed after lis­ten­ing to the Jubilee Min­strels, entic­ing the cou­ple to cut and place their locks togeth­er for us to find over a hun­dred years lat­er? Vows would not be exchanged for two years. Yet Florence’s ten­der Leap Year Pro­pos­al (See North Star Month­ly Feb­ru­ary 10, 2011) was two years ear­li­er! Wasn’t it time for a roman­tic ges­ture from him? A trin­ket? A token of affection?

A lock of a fair noblewoman’s hair as a keep­sake of aris­to­crat­ic affec­tion dates far back in his­to­ry through the Bible, the Mid­dle Ages, the Renais­sance, the Ref­or­ma­tion, the Baroque and Vic­to­ri­an eras. Kept in dou­blets, cuirass­es, hat­bands, lock­ets and in rings by love-struck swains, few have come down to us. The unique affec­tion of these two Ver­mon­ters, aris­to­crat­ic in nature, is clear through this ten­der sign of their feel­ings for each other.

Pic­tures and data can fool us, but this actu­al demon­stra­tion of depth of feel­ing and sin­cer­i­ty leaves us won­der­ing. After com­par­ing fad­ing diaries, for­mal pho­tos, locks of hair and infor­mal writ­ten let­ters, we find a sense of the human­ness of Her­bert and Florence.

Today, we may have pic­tures that we don’t want to exist, because they tell too much to the view­er or show an awk­ward moment. We may have videos that force us to relive some past pain. We have e‑mails, Twit­ter and text mes­sages that we can erase, press­ing the delete key, rather than to expose our prog­e­ny to our past. But we should real­ize that we are all com­plete human beings, warts and all, and what is seen by us as a major flaw in 2011 might be seen by a future his­to­ri­an in 2111 as a slight stumble.

In our strug­gle to be polit­i­cal­ly cor­rect, we may become as straight-laced to those who come after us as the peo­ple who had to pose for sev­er­al min­utes in a head brace for the pho­tog­ra­ph­er of the 19th and ear­ly 20th cen­turies. Instead, we can hope that the essence of our human­i­ty remains, like the locks that Her­bert and Flo­rence left us.

To view a pho­to album asso­ci­at­ed with this arti­cle, click here.

This arti­cle was first pub­lished in the March, 2011, issue of the North Star Month­ly.

 

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