COCHECO MILLS CLASSICS

A typical water-powered textiles mill would have thousands of these foot-long bobbins feeding its looms.
A typical water-powered textiles mill would have had thousands of these foot-long bobbins feeding its looms.
A sampling of the designs that made the Cocheco Mills world-famous.
A sampling of the designs that made the Cocheco Mills world-famous.

The short distance between New England’s mountains and its Atlantic coast means its rivers and streams drop in elevation rather quickly, and that has provided both powerful currents and many opportunities for power-generating dams. As a consequence, the region is peppered with old mills – usually brick but sometimes stone or even framed wood – that were once the industrial backbone of America.

Downtown Dover, for instance, is built around the Cocheco Falls, where the river plunges into the tidewater. The falls are topped with a dam, and the diverted water once powered a complex of textile mills that produced world-famous calico, among other woven products. The Amoskeag Mills in Manchester, meanwhile, were noted for their denim, which supplied Levi Strauss in his legendary San Francisco production. Nor was fabric the only product coming from the mills. Everything from precision tools to locomotives to shoes and socks and cigars was being shipped from the cities and towns along the waterways.

Over the years, many of these mills have fallen into disuse through a combination of newer technologies, cheaper competition from steam-powered Southern mills, and overseas production. But the legacy remains.

As I learn from my elder daughter while examining a glorious sampling of cloth she’s intending to turn into quilts or comforters, the designer Judie Rothermel has recreated some of the classic patterns found at the American Textile History Museum in Lowell, Massachusetts, and reproduced them in partnership with Marcus Fabrics.

The Cocheco Mills Collection, issued serially over several years, is one of the impressive results.

Let me say, some of the technical results are mesmerizing while the colors are deep and delicious.

How did we ever stop making this?

REGARDING A GRANDFATHER CLOCK

When I was growing up, “going to the farm” meant a trip to my grandmother’s sister and brother-in-law in the other corner of our county. One of my memories was of the grandfather clock that stood at the top of the stairs and Aunt Edna’s mentioning that it had been carried over the mountains in a Conestoga wagon “from the place where Conestoga wagons were made.”

As a history buff, I eventually realized that was Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, now famed for its Amish population. The plot thickens, as I explain at my genealogy blog, The Orphan George Chronicles.

Decades after the farm had been sold and I began working on the genealogy puzzle, I received a few photographs of the clock, and a few days ago I scanned them into my computer. You can’t see many of the details, but I remember the small moon and sun that would rotate in the clock face. A few years ago, back in Ohio, I was surprised by how short the clock itself is. We think of grandfather clocks as large, but this one is probably shoulder-high to me.

Most amazing, though, is the sweet ringing it issues in singing its quarterly rounds. Not a gonging sound at all, but more like the clinking of crystal stemware.

And to think, the clock itself had been rediscovered, hidden away on its side in a loft of one of the barns. Just goes to show, you never know quite what to expect when you go rooting around in an old barn now, do you?

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EARLIER OWNERS AND THEIR IMPRINT

Every time we undertake another repair or remodeling project with our old house, I’m reminded why I don’t do it myself. Yes, I’ll assist our carpenter/electrician or even keep an eyeball on the plumbers, but the earlier work we encounter always presents something inexplicable.

When we were stripping the walls and ceiling of the kitchen, for instance, Rick looked up and said, “I don’t like that.”

“Don’t like what?” I replied, looking at the weird angles of the two-by-fours running to the ridgeline. I could have as easily said, “Now what?”

“The roof’s not attached to the walls,” he replied. Oh? We both calculated it had been that way eighty years or so, however miraculously. “I’ll do what I can to strap it down.”

It’s a long list, actually, of guys who thought they knew how to fix things. But they weren’t pros or even skilled. Makes me wonder about a lot of the construction guys at work today. So I’ve become ever so grateful to turn to people who are truly capable. The best ones are worth every penny.

BOBHOUSES

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Alton Bay on Lake Winnipesaukee is a popular site for bobhouses each winter.
Alton Bay on Lake Winnipesaukee is a popular site for bobhouses each winter.

When they lived way up in Maine, with a large lake just down their road, I remember hearing Eric tell about the morning he looked out the window and saw a traffic jam. Miles and miles from the nearest traffic light, here were bumper to bumper pickup trucks heading to and from the lake. Soon, he realized they were removing their bobhouses before the ice melted.

Bobhouses, of course, are part of the male culture of northern New England and many other frozen parts of the world. Since I don’t fish, no matter how much I admire fly fishermen and their skills, I really don’t appreciate the special savvy of landing one’s meal from under the ice. You can do it, of course, by drilling a hole in the thickness underfoot and then sitting or standing out in the cold. But the really serious guys build or buy their own little houses for the tradition – some are quite basic, while others, I’m told, come with TVs and Web connections. Still, I’m curious about what draws men from their warm homes to spend long days or evenings in a very cold environment. One of the answers is that it’s an excuse to drink with your buddies. Another is that it’s just to get away from the women. Except that it turns out some very adventurous women join in on the expedition. Are the fresh fish really worth this much effort?

Even so, that afternoon, Eric looked out again and saw another traffic jam, this time with trailers hauling their boats to the water. Presumably for more fishing.

How did they know this was the day the ice would go? What clues am I missing?

FROM QUAKER CULTURE TO JANE’S CLAY PUPPETS

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries:

  • James Walvin, The Quakers: Money & Morals; Jean R. Sunderlund, Quakers & Slavery; Barry Levy: Quakers and the American Family. These three volumes, tackled together while purging my spirituality shelves in my lair, present a fascinating examination of Quaker economic systems in history. Walvin approaches the rise of Quaker wealth and capitalism in Britain, especially through the networks of traveling ministers, apprenticeships, extended families, and so on. Of course, within three or four generations we had the phenomenon of much of those families leaving the Society of Friends and, later, the companies themselves being acquired by larger corporations. Sunderlund examines the resistance in Philadelphia Yearly Meeting to the abolition of slavery, finding it more intense in some quarters than in others – but most intensely entrenched in the yearly meeting’s hierarchy itself. While he ponders the events that allowed the yearly meeting to turn in the 1750s, he does not calculate what I sense might be the most obvious: the wealthiest families, which were most likely to own slaves, were drifting away from Friends. Combine that with the deaths of the previous generation of wealthy leaders who remained Quaker, and you have the possibility that persuasion had less to do with the transformation than we might hope. Levy, meanwhile, raises the model of Quaker farming as an underpinning of the success of Friends as an institution across multiple generations. He suggests that the families that were least able to set their children up on their own farms or businesses were also the least likely to see their children find mates within the Society of Friends, and thus marry out. He also observes that in Quaker marriages, the husband was not the authoritative head of the household, not in the model Calvinists followed. Rather, a marriage was subject to the women’s meeting, shifting the authority to the women elders. This is a powerful aspect of the women’s meeting I’ve not previously seen articulated, and one that could be greatly advanced.
  • Christian Pessey & Remy Samson: Bonsai Basics: A Step-by-Step Guide to Growing, Training & General Care. A lovely little book (yard sale find) that may very well convince me not to undertake what would obviously become another compulsive activity.
  • Andrei Codrescu: Whatever Gets You Through the Night: A Story of Sheherezade and the Arabian Entertainments. More about the royal brothers and their problems, ultimately, than the ostensible subject. Gets lost in scholarly insider jokes and footnotes and socio-economic/political sidebars. Quite disappointing.
  • Jane Kaufmann: Unframed. A marvelous coffee-table art book autobiography of a popular New Hampshire ceramic artist and her life’s work. Great for endless inspiration, especially in keeping a light yet acerbic touch.

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FROM THE CROSS TO CHINESE CHARACTERS, WITH LADY CHATTERLY ALONG THE WAY

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries:

  • Richard John Neuhus: Death on a Friday Afternoon: Meditations on the Last Words of Jesus From the Cross. A beautifully designed volume laced with some tender pastoral memories, the line of argument ultimately collapses for me under the weight of the Augustinian tradition and its emphasis on Paul (or more likely pseudo-Paul) rather than Jesus himself. Despite all of the subtle contortions, I don’t see God getting off the hook here.
  • D.H. (David Herbert) Lawrence: Lady Chatterley’s Lover: What a marvelous bit of storytelling! I love the way he’s free to tell, with just enough show to make it compelling. Some marvelous dialect here, too. As for the scandal, he was pushing the envelope of conventionality. All of the anti-social diatribe, however, reminds me too much of Micki. How curious!
  • D.H. Lawrence: Women in Love, Sons and Lovers, Short Stories. A tedium sets in quickly with these, especially as one sees them as studies for the later Chatterley. So much of the dialogue awaits action, which proves tepid when it arrives.
  • Friends General Conference, Religious Education Committee: Opening Doors to Quaker Worship. Some interesting exercises for deepening an understanding of Friends Meeting, some for adults. One to pass along.
  • Walden Bello: Visions of a Warless World. A survey of world religions regarding war, including the dual strands in the Judeo-Christian stream in which God originates as a war deity and is transformed along the way. But I find the broader vision missing – just how, for instance, do we channel the innate aggression in human nature?
  • Ernest Fenolosa, edited by Ezra Pound: The Chinese Written Character as a Medium for Poetry. What fun to revisit this piece from much earlier in my career!

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FROM CELIA THAXTER TO CHARLES IVES, WITH ANTIQUITY IN BETWEEN

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries:

  • Celia Thaxter:  An Island Garden. A delightful book. The Childe Hassam illustrations are classic, and my favorite parts of the text are her descriptions of the sea and island life. Of course, the gardening advice is no slouch, either, especially with her passionate details of battling slugs.
  • Jennifer Toth: The Mole People. A daring demonstration of enterprise reporting by a Los Angeles Times correspondent in New York, detailing the rise of homeless people in the 1980s who retreated to the depths of the city, including those of the subways and railroads. Her investigations ultimately placed her life in danger. A remarkable alternative to my freewheeling, playful Subway Hitchhikers perspective.
  • Antonia Fraser: Cromwell: Our Chief of Men. After all of my Quaker histories and Christopher Hill’s The World Turned Upside Down, this biography provides a third leg for triangulating the upheaval that shaped the Society of Friends. I now see the Protectorate as a subset of the Interregnum, one in conflict with both Parliamentary rights and the political power of the Army (including its Leveller and Digger voices). Fraser’s description of the origins of the New Model Army as “godly men” hints that its span may have had several incarnations; also, John Lilburne’s role within this period, as a vocal dissident, leaves me concluding that Cromwell’s failure to extend the vote for the House of Commons to all free Englishmen (or at least all of the Army, who had fought for its freedom) was the central fatal flaw of the revolution, especially as Cromwell floundered in his attempts to rule with a greatly muzzled Parliament. From Fraser’s perspective, the Quakers were generally just one of the many sects flourishing at the time, and the Nayler trial by Parliament, while troubling in its legal foundation and execution, was not the pivotal event seen by Douglas Gwyn and others. In the end, Fraser is long-winded. What I would now like to see is a definitive treatment of Lilburne, another of the New Model, and yet another on the General Baptists of the era.
  •  James Joyce:  Ulysses. Such a troubling, disjointed work! On one hand, it points straight to Kerouac and William Burroughs in its free-flowing association. Despite many imaginative and wonderful lines and, especially, puns, it’s hard to follow the characters through this single-day pursuit, or to have any sympathy for any of them.
  • Jack Miles: Christ: A Crisis in the Life of God. This ex-Jesuit’s examination builds on his earlier biography of God, and his conclusion that, for various reasons, the God of Israel can no longer deliver his end of the covenant. Miles approaches Jesus exclusively as God Incarnate, rather than any of the alternatives I’ve perceived, and sees the Crucifixion as essentially a self-suicide by God – an offering of appeasement for his failure. Indeed, Miles sees Jesus as repeatedly evading questions about the free Jewish state promised in Isaiah, especially, and calls Jesus an “ironic Messiah.”
  • The Confessions of St. Augustine. His conceit of addressing these to God, as in prayer, even though the deity already knows all the details and more, provides an intimacy for the general reader to whom the work is actually aimed. Of course, Augustine’s ultimate denunciation of the turns that led him to his life in the Church – in fact, his appreciation of those steps – taints the work for me. Too much self-piety, in the end, with all of his destructive role in leading Christianity into the “dark night of the apostasy.” On the other hand, much of this is also a day book for reflection: not the way I handled the volume this time, but perhaps at a later date.
  • Charles Ives:  Essays Before a Sonata, The Majority, and Other Writings. The essays regarding the Concord Sonata and its Transcendentalist inspirations are provocative and insightful. His political writings, however, can be embarrassing, except for the sense of the Emersonian influences Ives is attempting to apply – his naïve faith in a Majority (the People) over an elite Minority (the Non-People) is all the more telling in that Ives (and, for that matter, classical music itself) will never appeal to the Majority in America!

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FROM SHERHERAZADE TO THE PARTHENON AND COYOTE

Continuing this month’s survey of Books Read, here are a few more entries:

  • Fatema Mernissi: Scheherazade Goes West: Different Cultures, Different Harems. Puzzled by the smirks of Western men whenever she mentioned harem, this Moroccan Islamic feminist launches into an attempt to understand the differences between Islamic male-female dynamics and those of the West. She draws heavily on the stories of Scheherazade and painting, noting what is emphasized East or West. Along the way, she presents interesting insights into Muslim life, including the “secret” side of the feminine, often rural, traditions where forbidden teachings continue. I find this a provocative book, good for launching further discourse. Where I think she misses the mark is in her failure to comprehend the harem as pure fantasy, one that may be more about power and wealth – and pure leisure – than about sex. In the West, multiple sexual partners (other than prostitutes) was essentially limited to the upper (ruling) class – a mistress, at that, rather than a panoply; sex itself, according to Roman Catholic teaching, was not for pleasure, unlike that of the harem fantasy (Mernissi does write of the pleasures of the public bath, noting how often bathing was proscribed through European history); furthermore, for many Western men, having sufficient freedom of time and wealth to indulge in a harem would be foreign to their thinking – work before pleasure. Not until Hugh Hefner do we see anything remotely resembling the harem fantasy, and he and his empire have always been somewhat outside propriety. I sense that major difficulties arise in the fallacy of trying to compare a powerful male with a harem to an average male anywhere; this is paralleled by trying to celebrate the heroic wife among many, rather than the average wife trapped within the system. More telling, as she reflects, would be the insights of artists’ wives, knowing their husbands were painting nudes.
  • Barbara Jane Reyes: Poeta en San Francisco (poems). A blazing collection of mostly prose-poems by a Filipina-American, often seemingly free-association, often multilingual, often Catholic-anti-Catholic (blasphemous within faith?), often addressing the aftermath of war, racism, sexism from ghetto streets, often full of blame for the other. All the same, full of juice. Passionate. Inflammatory, priming me with a desire to write, as well.
  • Ellen Cooney: Gum Ball Hill. This novel attempts to recreate the tensions in a Maine community just outside York during leading up to and through the Revolutionary War. It has had me looking up some of the York and Dover experiences during the King Phillip’s War period, and considering this place as frontier through a difficult century.
  • Damon D. Hickey: The Cross of Plainness: A Century of Conservative Quakerism in North Carolina (issue of The Southern Friend, 2005). Excellent presentation of Wilburite Quakerism focused on a single Meeting, now laid down. Solid quotations and material for future writing.
  • Robert Bowie Johnson Jr.: The Parthenon Code. Examining the friezes of the Parthenon, the author argues that they present the other side of the Genesis story – one focusing on the Serpent and the line of Cain/Kain, having the Creator pushed out of the scene entirely, and showing Noah/Nereus being overcome by the human will of Poseidon and his kin. The work of an impassioned amateur, lacking in footnoted documentation, is nonetheless provocative and intriguing. I wish he had acknowledged that the Genesis stories themselves are drawn from widespread Middle Eastern mythology, which means that the Greeks might also be showing themselves overcoming Babylonian might, rather than a small and insignificant Hebrew philosophy per se. On the other hand, if the Greek account celebrates the victorious and conquering human, the Jewish account also seems to side with the underdog! Our God favors the powerless!
  • Grandfather Duncan Sings-Alone: Sprinting Backwards to God. Part Coyote tales, mostly memoir, an easy-to-read and often humorous account of a Cherokee half-breed’s spiritual journey from preacher kid to Disciples of Christ pastor to Native healer and pipe-carrier. Candid insights into the failure of his four marriages. (His father was Scottish background.) Includes some embarrassingly purple verse by his current wife. Helpful glossary.
  • Howard Norman: The Northern Lights. In this, his inaugural novel, Norman follows a young boy through his trials in the Canadian North and finally with his mother running The Northern Lights movie house in Toronto. Some interesting insights along the way, but not altogether satisfying from my perspective. The structure, for instance, seems flimsy and the conclusions don’t really fit … too much deus et machina for me.
  • John Canaday: Invisible World. Poems drawn from the year he spent in Jordan, tutoring the children of King Hussein and Queen Noor. I wouldn’t have known, however, from the poems themselves his reason for living in an Islamic nation, only that these reflect his attempt to understand the place and culture.
  • Melissa Jayne Fawcett: Medicine Trail: The Life and Lessons of Gladys Tantaquidgeon. A small, beautiful volume that includes telling blocks of quotations from the Mohegan matriarch responsible for bringing many of her people’s old ways into the twenty-first century. As the author notes, less is known about the New England Indians than about those anywhere else – and this is a valuable piece in that gaping puzzle.

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THE NAYLER PRAYER FLAGS

I’ve mentioned my love of Tibetan prayer flags, from long before they became so popular and easily purchased. One Christmas, though, I was given a kit for making my own, which left me wondering what to design. Early Quakers would have scoffed at the practice, mostly as vanity and superstition, but I do like the reminder to be more prayerful and attentive. So I turned to one of the early major voices of the movement, James Nayler, and began extracting a few words for each square.

Here’s what emerged:

To
ALL
HONEST
HEARTS

Stand still
in the Light
of Jesus.

Come to
SEE
the Life.

If the EYE
be single
NO
darkness.

One power
WORKS
in the
LIGHT.

Believe
and
WAIT.

HAVE
the
LIGHT
of
LIFE.

To
MAKE
MANIFEST

THIS
COVENANT
OF
LIGHT.

TRUTH
PEACE
RIGHTEOUSNESS

THE
FRUIT
YOU
BRING
FORTH

ONE
is the
POWER

Receive
the
LIGHT.

SHINE.

FOLLOW
the
LIGHT.