The Seven Sutherland Sisters & their 37 Feet of Hair!

In the 19th century when proper women pinned up their hair, the seven Sutherland sisters were letting theirs down. Sarah, Victoria, Isabelle, Grace, Naomi, Dora, and Mary sang and played a variety of instruments, but people didn't come to watch them for their musical ability. Instead, they came to admire their super long hair--thirty-seven feet of it. 

The seven Sutherland sisters with their brother

The sisters were born between 1845 and 1865 and lived a hardscrabble life on the family's turkey farm in Cambria, New York. Their mother, Mary, would slather the girls' hair in a nasty smelling ointment, which she believed would make their hair grow thick and strong. The girls' classmate shunned them because of the foul smell. When their mother died in 1867, the girls were finally freed from the foul-smelling oil.

After his wife's death, Fletcher Sutherland pursued fame and fortune by exploiting his children. Along with their one brother, Charles, the sisters toured churches, fairs, and community theaters in Niagara County, singing and playing instruments. 

By 1880, the sisters, billed as The Seven Wonders, made their Broadway debut. By 1881, the sisters took their show on the road, touring the South and visiting cities like Pensacola, Mobile, and New Orleans, before attending the first World's Fair in the South, the International Cotton Exposition in Atlanta. No matter where they went, they wowed audiences when they'd unleash their floor-length locks.

Sarah, whose hair was the shortest, & Victoria, whose hair was seven feet long

Sarah, the oldest sister and leader of the group, had hair only three feet long and would often sit during exhibitions and photo shoots. Victoria had the longest hair--7 feet--and when she let it down, it would drag behind her like a train. The youngest, Mary, was mentally unstable. Some doctors and preachers went as far as blaming her 6 feet of very heavy, dark hair for pulling on her head.

In 1882, the sisters signed to travel with the W.W. Coles Colossal Shows, and by 1884, they had signed with Barnum and Bailey's Greatest Show on Earth as a side attraction. When flaunting their lovely hair on stage didn't bring in the money their father had hoped, he created a hair-growing tonic, which Victorian women fought to get. The family became rich almost over night, and the sisters became easily recognized celebrities whose hair was coveted by many.


By the end of 1884, the Sutherland Sisters Corporation had garnered $90,000 in sales. By 1890, the sisters had sold 2.5 million bottles of the Hair Grower alone, raking in more the $3 million dollars. Sarah, Grace, Dora, and Mary never married, possibly for fear that a husband could take controlling interest of their wealth.

Fletcher died in 1888, and the sisters themselves became part-owners in the hair tonic company, which expanded to include a whole line of hair products including a comb, a scalp cleanser, and eight shades of “colorators,” as well as other cosmetics like face cream.

I wish I could say this story had a happy ending, but the sisters eventually ended up broke, after living lavish lifestyles and wasting much of their money. The final death knell came in the 1910s when rebellious young women known as flappers began chopping off their hair.

Mary ended up in an asylum. Dora was killed in a car crash when she and two sisters went to Hollywood in hopes of selling their story. A fire in 1938 destroyed the Sutherland estate, burning up a myriad of artifacts from the sisters' exploits and the recipe for the original tonic. And so the headline-stealing wonders of the Victorian era faded into obscurity. 

Heart of a Cowboy, a new novella collection from four best-selling, award-winning authors. Now available for the pre-release purchase! http://amzn.to/1QleaFy

My novella:

The Hand-Me-Down Husband
By Vickie McDonough

Ellen Stewart despises Lance Garrett. If not for him dashing into Isabelle’s life and stealing her heart and filling her head with his dreams, her little sister would still be alive and safe at home. When she receives Lance’s letter requesting help, Ellen rushes to Silver Springs, intent on taking charge of her young niece. A rugged ranch is no place for a motherless baby. But when she realizes the depth of Lance’s despair, she can’t leave him alone. Though everything within her wants to flee back to the big city, something makes her stay. Tessa needs her father, for one—and he needs her. Ellen knows what it’s like to lose all she’d dreamed of. When local church members make a stink about Ellen living at Lance’s ranch, they are forced to marry. Ellen didn’t want a hand-me-down husband, but could their marriage be God’s will for them both?

Bestselling author Vickie McDonough grew up wanting to marry a rancher, but instead married a computer geek who is scared of horses. She now lives out her dreams penning fictional romance stories about ranchers, cowboys, lawmen, and others living in the Old West. Vickie is an award-winning author of 40 published books and novellas. Her novels include the fun and feisty Texas Boardinghouse Brides series, and End of the Trail, which was the OWFI 2013 Best Fiction Novel winner. Whispers on the Prairie was a Romantic Times Recommended Inspirational Book for July 2013. Song of the Prairie won the 2015 Inspirational Readers Choice Award. Her latest series, Land Rush Dreams, focuses on the Oklahoma land runs.

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The Boy Who Was Rescued By God

by Tamera Lynn Kraft
 

One of the most fascinating stories to come out of the mission field in Africa was about a boy named Samuel Morris. Morris was born in 1873 as Prince Kaboo in Liberia, the son of a tribal king and next in line for the throne.

When Kaboo was fourteen years old, he was captured by a neighboring tribe called the Grebos when his Kru tribe was attacked. His father, the chief, was commanded to bring a tribute to the Grebos every month if he wanted to see Kaboo alive. Kaboo's father complied, but the tribute was never enough. The Grebos began to beat Kaboo every day and were planning to kill him.

One night, during a beating, there was a flash of light, and Kaboo's ropes fell off him. A voice told him to run. He ran and, for days, survived in the forest by eating mangos and snails. Eventually he found his way to a coffee plantation of a former slave who had become a Christian.

There, a young boy invited Kaboo to church where Miss Knolls, a missionary and graduate of Taylor University, spoke on how the Apostle Paul saw a light from Heaven and heard a voice speak to him. Kaboo immediately knew that it was God who rescued him, and he accepted Christ as Savior. He was baptized under the name of Samuel Morris to honor the man who sent the missionary to Africa.

Morris became zealous to learn more about the Holy Spirit, and Lizzie MacNeil encouraged him to go to America to be discipled by her mentor, Stephen Merritt. With no means of transportation, Morris set out on foot to Robertsport harbor. He slept on the beach until he was able find passage on a ship to America in exchange for work.

The journey was difficult because Morris was assigned the most dangerous jobs and often beaten, but by the time he arrived in New York, the captain and most of the crew had accepted Christ as their Savior because of his witness.

Once Morris arrived in America, Stephen Merritt warmly received him and the president of Taylor University requesting to enroll Morris at the school. Due to Taylor's financial debt, Reade personally started a fund for Morris called the "faith fund".In December 1891, Morris arrived on Taylor's campus. When asked by Reade which room he wanted, Morris said, "If there is a room nobody wants, give that to me."

Morris' faith had such a profound impact on the school and community that he was often invited to speak at local churches. At night, he could be heard in his room praying, which he called "talking to my Father."

President Reade once said, "Samuel Morris was a divinely sent messenger of God to Taylor University. He thought he was coming over here to prepare himself for his mission to his people, but his coming was to prepare Taylor University for her mission to the whole world. All who met him were impressed with his sublime, yet simple faith in God."

Morris wanted to return to Africa as a missionary and often would encourage fellow students to consider doing the same. But he contracted a severe cold and said God told him that his work on Earth was done. Samuel Morris died on May 12, 1893 at about 20 years of age. His death inspired his fellow students to serve as missionaries to Africa on his behalf, fulfilling his dream of one day returning to minister to his own people. Hundreds of spectators lined the streets of Fort Wayne as Samuel Morris' body was carried to Berry Street Methodist Church.

Lindley Baldwin, author of Samuel Morris, writes, "The burial ceremony in Lindenwood cemetery, his last earthly resting place, was attended by a multitude such had never before accompanied there." Although blacks were buried on one side of the cemetery and whites on the other, they buried Morris in the middle uniting people in death as he did in life.
 

Tamera Lynn Kraft has always loved adventures and writes Christian historical fiction set in America because there are so many adventures in American history. She has received 2^nd place in the NOCW contest, 3^rd place TARA writer’s contest, and is a finalist in the Frasier Writing Contest.

Her novellas Soldier’s Heart and A Christmas Promise are available on Amazon. Her novella Resurrection of Hope will be released in March.

Tidbits About Eggplant

Here are some historical tidbits about eggplant or as they were often referred to in the 19th Century Guinea Squash. I've also included a couple recipes for comparison purposes.

Egg-plant, Or Guinea Squash. The egg plant is a tender annual, a native of Africa, whence its name Guinea Squash. It was introduced into England in 1597. The varieties of purple egg-plant are the only ones used in cooking, the white variety being raised for ornament. Egg-plant derives its name from the white variety, which when small bears a close resemblance to an egg. The egg-plant when first introduced, was not regarded with much favor for culinary purposes, but is now rapidly working its way upwards in general esteem.
Source: Gardening of the South ©1857

Farming Tidbit for Eggplant:
No vegetable with which I am acquainted, can withstand drouth better than the eggplant, which bears and matures its fruit under a degree of heat and dryness that would be fatal to other crops. If there be a sufficiency of decayed vegetable matter in the soil, this crop may be allotted to the sandiest part of the farm.
Source: Truck Farming at the South ©1884

EGG-PLANTS are in their prime this month, being fresh and home raised, and though very cheap are far from being an economical dish when fried, as they absorb so much fat, but if used in the place of meat will be better both for the purse and stomach. They should be thinly sliced, unpared, each slice sprinkled with salt; piled together on a dish, an inverted china plate (not tin, as that would blacken them) over them, with a flatiron on top as a weight to press out the juice. After an hour, wipe each slice dry; dip in egg and bread crumbs and fry quickly in very hot lard or dripping. Drain them on brown paper before putting them on the dish. Tomatoes in some form, either sliced raw, or as catsup, should be served with them.
If egg-plant is to be used at dinner with meat, it is better and more economical to bake them. For this purpose select a large one; put it in boiling water, salted, and cook until tender. Take it out carefully; cut off a small circular piece from the stem end, and scoop out the inside, being careful not to break the skin. Mash the eggplant; add salt, pepper and a lump of butter; put it back in the skin; replace the end; brush it over with egg; sprinkle with bread crumbs and brown it in a quick oven.
Source: Table Talk ©1888

Eggplant Baked in Bread Crumbs—This recipe requires one young and tender eggplant, one tablespoonful of chopped parsley, one tablespoonful of vinegar; season with one teaspoonful of salt and three dashes of pepper; two tablespoonfuls of butter, if you can spare it, if not, one will do; two cups of bread crumbs, and two onions grated. Peel the eggplant and cut it in inch dice. Put it into the sauce-pan with one gill of boiling water. Simmer very gently until tender, but not entirely done, ten to fifteen minutes. Then throw it into a colander and drain as dry as possible, squeezeing out the water with a saucer. Meanwhile, fry the onions in butter. When the eggplant is thoroughly drained, remove the saucepan and onions from the fire and stir the eggplant, parsley, pepper, salt and vinegar and butter. If the eggplant has been properly dried It will absorb the butter entirely. Put in a baking dish, cover the top with browned bread crumbs and dots of butter, and bake twenty to twenty-five minutes in a good oven. There should be nearly one quart of the stewed eggplant for the above preparations, therefore, if you have not one large one, use two small ones.
Source: The Daily News Cook Book ©1896

FRIED EGG-PLANT No. I Pare the egg-plant, and cut in very thin slices. Sprinkle each slice with salt and pepper, pile them evenly, put a tin plate over them, and on this stand a flat-iron to press out the juice. Let stand one hour. Beat an egg lightly, and add to it a tablespoonful of boiling water, dip each slice first in this and then in bread crumbs. Put three tablespoonfuls of lard or dripping in a frying-pan; when hot, saute the slices, a few at a time, brown one side, then turn and brown the other. As the fat is consumed, add more, waiting each time for it to heat before putting in the eggplant. Drain on brown paper, and serve very hot. Tomato catsup should be served with it.
FRIED EGG-PLANT No. 2 Pare the egg-plant, and cut it in slices about a quarter of an inch thick, sprinkle with salt and pepper, dredge thickly with flour, and saute as directed in preceding recipe.
Source: Mrs. Rorer's Philadelphia Cook Book ©1886


Lynn A. Coleman is an award winning & best-selling author who makes her home in Keystone Heights, Florida, with her husband of 41 years. Lynn's latest novel "The Shepherd's Betrothal" is the third book in her Historical St. Augustine, FL. series.

Check out her 19th Century Historical Tidbits Blog if you like exploring different tidbits of history.

Preserved in Plaster

by Linda Farmer Harris

Did you make handprint casts in elementary school, or perhaps leaf casts? Maybe you have a handprint from a grandchild.

Photo from Body Casting Sydney.

Photo from Body Casting Sydney.

Back in my day, ashtrays were the most popular form. Press your hand in the middle of the modeling clay circle, lift the edges upward to form a bowl, let it dry, and voilà a memory. Maybe yours was for a coaster or Christmas tree ornament.

Molding body parts made me wonder what was happening today in the world of nostalgic body casting.

I visited The Edinburgh Casting Studio and watched their Family Hand Casting video — https://www.facebook.com/edinburghcasting/videos/1604721079743622/

Courtesy of the Edinburgh Casting Studio

Yes, I'd love to do the hands/arms with my husband, daughter, and son-in-law. 

When I saw this one from http://www.incredibleart.org/lessons/middle/Lotte-bodyart.htm (scroll to middle of web page) I envisioned Amanda resting after a day of teaching.

Photo from Body Casting Sydney

Couldn't stop there — had to know more about the whys and wherefores of this artist expression. The first thing that came to mind was death masks of centuries past, such as those in the Egyptian mummification process. The early Romans used wax and plaster, and later stone.

It was common in 10th century European countries to create death masks of famous people for display at funerals. Often the masks served as a model for after-death portraits. In the 18th & 19th centuries, they were used to permanently record facial features of unknown corpses. Hands were cast in case the face wasn't recognizable.

Phrenologists used life and death masks in their studies. The study of Phrenology, which focuses on personality and character, is a pseudomedicine and pseudoscientific method focused on human skull measurements. Phrenology was developed by Franz Joseph Gall in 1796 and gained popularity between 1810 and 1840. The Edinburgh Phrenological Society was formed in 1820 and became the principal British center for this study.

1883 Phrenology Chart

Gall, a German physician, believed that character, thoughts, and emotions, three of the 27 determiners of personality, are found in specific areas of the brain, and that the skull accommodated and formed different sizes around these areas. This supposedly offered an understanding of the person's capacity for a specific personality trait. It didn't explain why a notably generous person, known and observed by friends and family, had a small area of skull covering that trait.

Rather than interred with the deceased, as was done prior to the Middle Ages, they were used in the funeral services and ceremonies then given to family or bequeathed to museums, libraries, and universities.

Collecting life and death masks of famous people became a prestigious undertaking. I started to type "hobby," but that sounds frivolous and these folks were serious collectors.

In Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. LXXXV, July to October 1892, Laurence Hutton wrote three lengthy articles on his collection of death-masks. He collected notables like Dante, William Shakespeare, Mendelssohn, Sir Isaac Newton, and many others.

I was fascinated by what Hutton said about Ludwig van Beethoven. "His head is described by those who knew him in life as having been uncommonly large. His forehead was high and expanded. His eyes, when he laughed, seemed to sink into his head, although they were distended to an unusual degree when one of his musical ideas took possession of his mind." (Vol. LXXXV, No. DVIII, page 629)

Although I started this research with death masks, I was glad to find life masks. Below is Beethoven's life mask made in 1812 by Franz Klein and now resides at Princeton University. Noel Morris in his article Beethoven's smile—yes, he had one (http://blogs.wfmt.com/offmic/2013/12/16/beethovens-smile/) shares, "In this process, the artist covers the subject's face in oil, and inserts straws in the nostrils. Then the artist coats the subject's face in plaster and lets it dry. The story goes that Beethoven panicked and ripped the cast off of his face; though he later calmed down and permitted the second application."

Ludwig van Beethoven Life Mask—Courtesy Princeton University

Beethoven scholar, David Dennis says, "The life mask captured many things, including pock marks that must have resulted from an early illness, and the stern, growling face that has been the basis for almost every portrait ever done of him-posthumously."

Ludwig van Beethoven — bust by Hugo Hagen 

During Abraham Lincoln's visit to Chicago to argue a court case, early spring 1860, sculptor Leonard Wells Volk (1828-1895) ask him to sit for a bust. Lincoln agreed and like Beethoven, found the process of letting wet plaster dry on his face and the skin-stretching removal of the plaster, "anything but agreeable." He was pleased with the final bust and said it was "the animal himself." Volk's life mask and bust were used as the basis for a full-length statue of Lincoln for the Illinois State Capitol in Springfield. Read the expanded account of Volk's and Lincoln's multiple meetings before and after he became president at Abraham Lincoln Online —http://www.abrahamlincolnonline.org/lincoln/resource/masks.htm

Abraham Lincoln Life Mask by Volk 1860—Courtesy of Smithsonian Institute

Abraham Lincoln Life Mask by Clark Mills 1865—Courtesy of Smithsonian Institute

On February 11, 1965, two months before Lincoln's death, sculptor Clark Mills (1815-1883) made a second life mask. Mills followed the same basic procedure that Volk had used. It was evident from the life masks that the Civil War had taken a toll on Lincoln's heath. He confided to friends, "I am very unwell."

I had the opportunity at the University of Texas-Arlington to interpret for a talented artist who was deaf. One of her classes was sculpting. Life masks was the first project. After seeing the process, which hadn't changed any since before 1812, I declined the invitation. Now, I kinda — almost nearly — but not quite, wish I had taken the plunge. I think it was the straws up the nostrils that sealed the deal.

Have you had any life mask, hand casts, or body casting experiences?

Would you go under the straws?

Blessings, 

Lin and her husband, Jerry, live on a ranch in Chimney Rock, Colorado. She writes historical fiction for adults and children. Her novella The Lye Water Bride is included in the California Gold Rush Romance Collection (Barbour Publishing, August 2016).

The Dakota Hard Winter of 1880/81

BY: Michele Morris

A long time ago, I read the stories of Laura Ingalls Wilder and her family for the first time. The Little House books captivated the history lover in me. They still do. 

My favorite of the series is The Long Winter. Mrs. Wilder accurately detailed the events of what would widely become known as the Dakota Territory’s Hard Winter or the Snow Winter of 1880/81.

During the summer of 1880, the people of Dakota Territory had no forewarning of the winter to come. Indian summer lasted into October and folks were taking their time with final preparations for winter. Hay still needed to be cut, feed corn picked and firewood gathered. Little did these hardy pioneers know how profoundly a little procrastination would soon affect them.

Suddenly, in mid-October,1880, without warning, the vast Dakota prairie skies darkened and it began to snow. According to most accounts, folks didn’t panic when it started to snow. It was early in the season, after all, there’d be plenty of time to finish winter preparations, but quickly it became apparent the blizzard wouldn’t soon end.

White out conditions.

Blizzard after blizzard blew across the plains of Dakota Territory, and by mid-December, snowdrifts completely covered single story buildings. Farmers had to tunnel from their house to their barn. There are stories of settlers tunneling out of their home only to have to burrow back down through ten, or eleven feet of drifted snow to reach their livestock in the barn.

A group of cowboys gave an account stating that a twenty-eight-foot deep canyon filled to the top with drift snow. Twenty-eight-feet! That’s a lot of blowing and drifting snow.

The Dakota Territory settlers were a hardy bunch and adapted to the freezing temperatures and continuous snowstorms until their food ran low. The threat of starvation loomed heavy over the towns as day after day the supply trains failed to arrive. Businessmen formed committees to ration out food and fuel, so everyone had their fair share. Families moved in together to share heat and chores. In my research, a diary entry from a town’s woman said that after blowing snow had covered her windows, and the lamp oil had run out, sitting in the near dark day after day became the most distressing and depressing part of the Hard Winter.

 

By January 1881, trains had suspended service to the area due to the massive amounts of snow. In an attempt to resume rail deliveries, railroad companies hired hundreds of men to dig out the track, but to no avail. As soon as the men dug out a stretch of track, a new storm would begin and blowing snow would fill in all their hard work.

February 2, 1881, another massive blizzard bore down. There were nine straight days of white out conditions, and no winter thaw. It seemed the season would never end.

While there was much hardship during the hard winter, there was little real suffering. Ranchers lost livestock and farmers lost crops, but there are very few reports of human deaths. This is a testament to the hardiness and comradery of the settlers.

Finally, in the late spring of 1881, the weather quickly warmed and the snow melted . . . In three days. Vast sections of the plains were flooded and ice jams clogged rivers. The town of Yankton was almost entirely washed away. More lives were lost in the floods after the blizzards than during the entirety of the Hard Winter.

Living in the south, I’ve forgotten how cold winter can be. My Michigan family laughs when I complain about the cold 60-degree weather. (I know, it is a little pathetic!) I can’t imagine living through a winter like the Hard Winter of 1880/81.

Do you have any winter tales to tell? Have you had to survive without heat during a blizzard? Or maybe an ice storm took out your electricity for a few days? Please share your experience in the comment below.

Thank you for joining me here at Heroes, Heroines, and History. Have a blessed January and keep warm!

Blessings,

Michele

Michele Morris’s love for historical fiction began when she first read Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House book series. She grew up riding horses and spending her free time in the woods of mid-Michigan dreaming of days-gone-by and knights-in-shining-armor. Therefore, it only makes sense that she now writes historical romance with a touch of suspense. Married to her high school sweetheart, they are living happily-ever-after with their six children, three in-loves, and six grandchildren in Florida, the sunshine state. When not spending time with her large brood or writing, Michele enjoys photography, genealogy, and cooking.