On Barfing

   This is a subject with which we are all familiar, but I am unusual in that I choose to bring it up. I do so because I just read an account of such an activity and was reminded of reading of another. Neither of them are from novels written about fraternities, but both involve nausea that is self-inflicted, and not from actions such as sailing or riding on the Tilt-A-Hurl at the amusement park. More specifically, I am referring to the barfing that results from having consumed too much alcohol, and when one ends up “Talking to Ralph on the big white telephone.” My first experience of puking because of drinking occurred in early adolescence, a fact of which I am no longer proud. Encountering examples involving adults overindulging, in books written by real authors, means I know longer need to feel embarrassed.

   It is probably quite common to run across vomiting in literary works and there are likely several doctoral dissertations about the subject. The two episodes I have chosen may be unique in that they both involve stairs, and are perhaps at least worthy of treatment in a master’s thesis. In the first case, the barf is encountered on the way up the stairs, while in the second it is found when descending. The first is presented because of the quality and vividness of the description of the source of the spew. The second is offered as a slippery way for me to introduce you to a good book by an author who has drank and puked a lot.

  This example is provided by Patrick Leigh Fermor, who as a teenager in the early 1930s is walking across Europe. On this winter day he is looking for a Hofbräuhaus and finds one.

    I was back in beer territory. Halfway up the vaulted stairs a groaning Brownshirt, propped against the wall on a swastika’d arm, was unloosing, in a staunchless gush down the steps, the intake of hours. Love’s labour lost. 
   Each new storey radiated great halls given over to ingestion…[One can get an idea] of the transformation that beer, in collusion with almost non-stop eating -- meals within meals dovetailing so closely during the hours of waking  that there is hardly an interprandial moment -- can wreak on the human frame… The trunks of these feasting burghers were as wide as casks. The spread of their buttocks over the oak benches was not far short of a yard. They branched at the loins into thighs as thick as the torsos of ten-year-olds and arms on the same scale strained like bolsters at the confining serge. Chin and chest formed a single column, and each close-packed nape was creased with its three deceptive smiles. Every bristle had been cropped and shaven from their knobbly scalps. Except when five o’clock veiled them with shadow, surfaces and polished as ostriches’ eggs reflected the lamplight. The frizzy hair of their wives was wrenched up from scarlet necks and pinned under slides and then hatted with green Bavarian trilbys and round one pair of elephantine shoulders a little fox stole was clasped….Hands like bundles of sausages flew nimbly, packing in forkload on forkload of ham, salami, frankfurter, krenwurst and blutwurst and stone tankards were lifted for long swallows of liquid which sprang out again instantaneously on cheek and brow…. Huge oval dishes, laden with schweinebraten, potatoes, sauerkraut, red cabbage and dumplings were laid in front of each diner. They were followed by colossal joints of meat -- unclassifiable helpings which, when they were picked clean, shone on the scoured chargers like calve’s pelvises or the bones of elephants. Waitresses with the build of weight-lifters and all-in wrestlers whirled this provender along and features dripped and glittered like faces at an ogre’s banquet.” A Time of Gifts, pp.90-92.

   The second case is provided by Dervla Murphy in Transylvania and Beyond. Like Fermor, she is walking alone in Europe, near Rarau which is in the Bistrita Mountains (close to the Obcine Range of Bukovina, to give you an idea of its remoteness.) Again, like Fermor, she is looking for a place to drink and bed down and spots a nine storey, unheated old lodge where she finds: 

   “A merry party of eight foresters wore mittens, and sheepskin jackets with the collars rolled up, and fox-fur hats with the ear-flaps pulled down… [They were] mixing cognac, white wine, tuica and beer, which seemed to me unwise. I little realized how soon I was to be the victim of their unwisdom…..[After spending a cold night in her sixth-floor eyrie she got up at dawn]:

Descending the mock-marble staircase in semi-darkness, I slipped on a pile of vomit and landed five steps down with my right ankle twisted under me. It had taken all my body weight, plus a heavy rucksack, and I at once knew it was broken. Apart from the pain, there is an audible thing: the brain, if not the ears, ‘hears’ bones crunching. Picking myself up -- some moments later -- after the first pain-wave had ebbed - I accepted that now was the time to do some involuntary research into  Rumania’s medical service. [which is very poor and the next town is inaccessible to motor vehicles].....Next morning my foot was, if viewed objectively, quite beautiful -- the size and shape of a rugger ball and marbled blue, green, brown and red, like high-quality nineteenth-century endpapers.

[The barfer later shows up - with a bottle to apologize]: By the end of the bottle (we were assisted by my nurse-attendants) Bogdan looked much more cheerful, having been assured that I quite understood his aberration -- that I, too, had over-indulged to the point of throwing up. This admission on ‘granny’s’ part severely shocked [those around her].

From the chapter “Footless in Moldavia” pp.190-193. 

   That's dear Dervla above and the event described happened in 1990 in Rumania. It was one of many unfortunate incidents and the first is found in the first chapter ("Dispossessed on the Frontier") when the Securitate steals all of her belongings. She takes off walking toward the mountains anyway and generally slept outside. When asked if she was afraid to sleep alone, she answered: "There's nothing to be afraid of if you are alone, if no one knows you're there. If however, three hard-drinking men know you're there, a move is indicated." Given that remark, she was probably leery of bunking down with eight foresters, but she was also used to it: "Even in the forenoon there were usually a few men eager to grope at me, while hiccuping in my face; already they were too far gone to see that I was old enough to be their mother. (Or in some cases, grandmother).
   I forgot to mention that Ms Murphy was around 60 back in 1990.

Sources: 
   In a recent post about jails,  I indicated that I was re-reading Fermor's A Time of Gifts and will probably read-again about the rest of his journey in: Between the Woods and the Water and The Broken Road.
   Apart from Transylvania and Beyond, Murphy has written: Where the Winter is Young: Winter in Baltistan; Cameroon With Egbert,(her horse); Tales From Two Cities: Travel of Another Sort; Full Tilt : Ireland to India With a Bicycle, and Eight Feet in the Andes, (The eight feet belonged to Dervla Murphy, her nine-year-old daughter Rachel and Juana, their staunch and beloved mule. They set out to travel some 1300 miles through the Andes from Cajamarca to Cuzco. Along the way they met the descendants of the Incas, suffered hard-ships such as landslides and tormenting insects and revelled in the grandeur of their wild surroundings.)

   As far as I can tell, Ms Murphy is still going full tilt. One of the things I learned when doing this (learning things is another reason for doing them), is that you can find interviews with her on YouTube, during which she is usually holding a beer. She is now 88.

Post Script:
   You are probably surprised that I did not use the word 'Vomitorium' which you, like I, thought was a place where those Germans and the Romans went to purge themselves to make room for more food and drink. We were wrong, since another thing I learned from this exercise is that vomitoria are those entrances and exits from which people can pour from stadiums. I am glad I found this out because one of my loyal readers is a classicist and he would have spotted the error. Actually, he is not that loyal and will only see this if I tell him I have written it. Non-classicists can simply look at the Wikipedia entry for Vomitorium. He can verify this by re-reading:  Radin, Alice P. (8 January 2003). "Fictitious Facts: The Case of the Vomitorium". APAClassics.org. American Philological Association, or "Purging the Myth of the Vomitorium: Ancient Romans Used the Word, but Pop Culture Has the Concept all Wrong," Stephanie Pappas, Scientific American, Aug. 28, 2016.

The Eastern Shore

Another Chesapeake Bay Bridge

  My last post, which was about an event that happened on the Eastern Shore of Maryland back in 1933, included a map like the one above, minus all the red lines. Those red lines are the potential locations for the proposed new bridge which is needed to ease traffic congestion. When one is built it is likely to be beside the other two which are located on the map in the middle between Annapolis and Queenstown. 

   Prior to the early 1950s, the peninsula was more isolated than it looks and, before the arrival of TV, the residents on it were more insular than they now are. I was born there and those of us who were, did not sound like those on the Mainland when we talked and we were perceived to be, and generally were,  more southern in orientation. Harriet Tubman was also born there. 

   The geographical and social isolation caused by the Bay, meant that those on the Shore had to either drive many miles to catch a ferry, or drive many more miles all the way up to the top of the Bay and then go back south to get to Baltimore or Washington. It was somewhat like driving from London, Ontario to Cleveland, Ohio.

As a ferry leaves its slip, a motorcade crosses the new Chesapeake Bay Bridge after dedication, July 30, 1952. In the lead cars are then-Maryland Gov. Theodore Roosevelt McKeldin, Delaware Gov. Elbert Carvel, former Maryland Gov. William Preston Lane Jr. and their wives. Prior to the completion of the bridge, a ferry brought passengers and about 50 vehicles across the water, from Annapolis to Matapeake. The trip took about 45 minutes, although lines to get on board often backed up hours, especially in summer. (Photo: AP)

As a ferry leaves its slip, a motorcade crosses the new Chesapeake Bay Bridge after dedication, July 30, 1952. In the lead cars are then-Maryland Gov. Theodore Roosevelt McKeldin, Delaware Gov. Elbert Carvel, former Maryland Gov. William Preston Lane Jr. and their wives. Prior to the completion of the bridge, a ferry brought passengers and about 50 vehicles across the water, from Annapolis to Matapeake. The trip took about 45 minutes, although lines to get on board often backed up hours, especially in summer. (Photo: AP)

   The trip was made easier in 1952 when the Chesapeake Bay Bridge was built. We could head off to the cities without worrying about ferry schedules and the urban folks could visit Ocean City. Problems remained, however, since the much larger number of cars had to travel on two-lane roads and bridges and through the streets of small towns. Heading out of Baltimore on a Friday for the beach at Ocean City quickly became problematic, and equally so on the return trip Sunday night. It was somewhat like travelling from Toronto to Muskoka.

   By the early 1970s it was clear that another bridge was needed and it was built next to the other one. Highways were also improved on the Shore and bypasses were built around the towns. Ocean City grew, along with the size of the waterfront lots along the many rivers. The charms of the Shore lured many to the counties closest to the bridges which are now clogged with those trying to get to work in Baltimore and D.C. 

   Now, because of repair work on one of the bridges there are again major traffic jams. A third span is required and there will soon be construction along one of those red lines. Many Marylanders are in favour, particularly the daily commuters and hotel and restaurant owners in Ocean City. Some in the small towns, like Saint Michaels and Easton, which have been gentrified and already have too much traffic, are not. I am not sure how the Lower Shore watermen and farmers feel, but they will probably not benefit from what is gained and feel most what is lost. 

Sources:

There is a web site for the Chesapeake Bay Bridge (with some live cameras) and a Wikipedia entry.

For an article about the proposed new bridge see: "A New Bridge Close to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Would Provide the Most Traffic Relief, Study Says," Katherine Shaver, Washington Post, Aug. 27, 2019.

Post Script:

 At the southern tail-end of the peninsula one also had to take a ferry to get to the Mainland until 1964 when a bridge-tunnel was built. The bridge goes out into open water to some artificial islands and then goes under the channel. The distance across is about 28km as opposed to the 7km of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. 

The Last Lynching

   I grew up on the Eastern Shore of the state of Maryland, on a peninsula that is separated from the mainland by the Chesapeake Bay. The distance to the more civilized counties, and the cities of Baltimore and Washington, is farther than it looks and the attitudes held by those who lived on the Shore were typically more ‘southern’ than the latitude suggests.

   Apart from reminiscing about a fine and warm mid-Atlantic childhood spent along the rivers and between the Chesapeake and the Atlantic, I have often told stories about the society on the Shore which was a segregated one. I went to an all-white school and our parents had a restaurant that did not serve blacks.  Even though my small town had a small all-black college and a sizeable black population, they existed in a situation that was separate and definitely not equal. We generally co-existed peacefully, but a black person had been lynched not long before I was born and it was an event not discussed. I remembered that a good friend and classmate wanted to write an essay about the subject, but was told not to do so. I didn’t think he did.

   My memory was incorrect. Although I am sure many people tried to discourage him, he did in fact choose the lynching as a topic for the“Old Home Essay”, which those of us in our senior year were expected to write in 1961. The title of his essay is: “Princess Anne Ties A Noose.” Given my faulty memory, I will tell the rest of the story using the facts I have found and choose to use. Keep in mind that the ‘facts’ surrounding such an event are many and some are likely to be fictitious.

The Crime

It is a fact that George Armwood was lynched in Princess Anne, Maryland on October 18,1933. One is less certain about the crime he allegedly committed. A local newspaper close by described it this way:

The attack which was a very brutal one, occurred early Monday morning as Mrs. Mary Denston was walking back to her home near Manokin after a visit at the home of her daughter, Mrs. Albert Wagner. As she passed a wooded spot the Negro seized her, dragged her into the woods, stripped her clothing from her body and brutally attacked her. In her desperate struggles against him, Mrs. Denston was badly bruised and lacerated and her condition is regarded as serious.

There seems to be little doubt that Armwood attacked the woman, but the nature of the attack and the reasons for it remain unclear. It has been suggested that his white employer was somehow involved, but most accounts report (as most such accounts do) that he raped her.

The Lynching

   While one does not know what George Armwood did, it is known what was done to him. Three reports follow and the first one was authored by an employee of the Associated Press.

“Boy Slashes Negro’s Ear” New York Times, Oct. 19, 1933.

   “The march to the scene of the lynching of Armwood was wild in the extreme. The mob members seemed crazed, continually leaping on the Negro, even after he fell to the ground and was unable to rise. One boy, apparently about 18 years old, slashed the Negro’s ear almost off with a knife. Under the oak tree, despite the presence of women and children, all the victim’s clothes were torn from his body and he hung there for some minutes nude.”

   A more detailed account appeared in the newspaper published in the small town of Crisfield just south of Princess Anne. 

“Mob Storms County Jail Wednesday Night: Lynches Negro Accused of Attacking White Woman Monday: Crowd of Several Thousand People Drag Body of George Armwood Through the Streets After Battling With Guards: Captain of State Police and Eight Other Officers Were Injured in the Attack," Crisfield Times, Friday Oct. 20, 1933.

Judge Robert F. Duer drove to the scene and in a speech to the crowd entreated them to go to their homes and let the law take its course. The Judge stood on the running board of his car and urged the people to allow the Negro to remain in the jail. He promised that the grand jury would meet Monday and that Armwood would have a speedy trial. He was met with derisive shouts.

   Following Judge Duer's speech the mob again attempted to storm the jail, but were met by a hail of tear gas bombs which momentarily checked them. Bricks, stones, and other missiles were hurled at the officers and many of them were injured. Several poles were secured by the attackers

which were used as battering rams with which to beat in the door of the prison.

   After securing entrance they dragged the Negro forth with a noose around his neck. He was dragged for a considerable distance through the streets of the town while the ring leaders debated the question on where to hang him. It is doubtful if the Negro was still alive when the question was finally settled.

   Several members of the mob wished to hang the man from a tree on Judge Duer's lawn, but they were outvoted. A tree was finally decided on in the lawn of Mrs. Thomas H. Bock on the Main Street. A rope was thrown Over a limb and the Negro hoisted several times and allowed to fall.

Tiring of its sport after a time, the mob then dragged the body to a spot near the Court House where a quantity of gasoline was poured over it and set afire. It was reported that the local undertakers refused to remove the body, but after several hours a truck arrived and the body carted away by State officers.”

   The lynching of Armwood was not reported at the time in the Princess Anne newspaper, The Marylander and Herald. To my surprise the lynching is vividly described in that paper by my friend and classmate in his "Old Home Essay" in 1961. 

 He [Armwood] was dragged from his cell, down the stairs of the jail, and thrown to the mob outside.  During all this, Armwood made no statement and offered little resistance. He was severely beaten while still in the jail, and one ear was razored off. When he was thrown to the crowd, he was beaten and kicked and stabbed several times around the head and shoulders. Then a rope about thirty feet long was brought up, and a noose tied around his neck. Then, with as many hands as could find a spot on the rope, he was dragged to death up Broad Street. Dead by the time his body reached Main Street, he was dragged about a half mile up Main to the home of Judge Duer, where he was hung from a tree on the lawn of Mrs. Thomas Bock, next to the judge’s lawn. By this time, the mob had grown to a size estimated at three thousand. Their frenzy had reached a zenith, and after hanging for a few moments, the body was cut down and dragged back up to the center of town past the crowds which lined the sidewalks. The corpse was reviled and cursed as it passed, and when the ringleaders reached the traffic light in the center of town, the body was strung up over the light cable, and a fire built beneath it. The body burned for a short time before the kerosene fire ate through the rope and the body fell into the flames. A plan to cut up the body and distribute it throughout the Negro section of town apparently in an effort to emulate the Williams mob in Salisbury, never developed. The body of the dead man lay in the street as the mob broke up as quickly as it had formed. There it lay until midnight when the town garbage truck came and hauled it to a nearby lot. Attempts to receive the help of a Negro undertaker in order to bury the body proved fruitless. M&H, June 9, 1961, p.3.

More reports can be found and sometimes details differ, but there is no doubt or disagreement about the fact that George Armwood was lynched.

The Prize Essay - "Princess Anne Ties the Noose"

   I misremembered the fact that my friend had actually written about the lynching in 1961. A further indictment of my memory can be levelled since I also did not remember that the essay was deemed the “Prize Essay” and was published in The Marylander and Herald and contained an actual lurid account of the event. Although it was written twenty-eight years after the lynching, many of those involved were still around, the society was still segregated and racial problems were simmering.  If there was much of a reaction, I don’t remember. But, I can tell you about what he wrote.

   It may seem odd to have begun this section with a picture of Martin Luther King; a picture which I do recall having been shown around town in the early 1960s. Perhaps it will seem even odder that “Princess Anne Ties The Noose” begins with this quotation from Karl Marx:

“Communism must be taken to, and if necessary, forced upon the world. Our plan is not one of negotiation, but action; not dependence on time but on violence and chaos.”

   It ends with the suggestion that the lynching “vividly demonstrates the means by which the Communist party achieve their avowed ends. Their constant goal is to tear down orderly government processes in any way possible. They also desire to stir up people, and cause them to commit acts of unlawfulness; racial hatreds are eagerly seized upon by the Communists as weaknesses of a nation and are exploited to their fullest."

    Lest you think my classmate held rather extreme views, I can offer in his defense the facts that it was believed both, at the time of the lynching and at the time of the writing of the essay, that communist influence was involved, and there is some truth behind the assertion. In a couple of other racially charged crimes on the Shore, the International Labor Defense League and Bernard Ades had worked hard to defend the Negros involved. The ‘communist front’ International Labor Defense League represented the Scottsboro boys and Ades was a white communist lawyer from Baltimore. A letter writer to The Marylander and Herald right after the event "Lays Blame For Lynching on Shoulders of Bernard Ades and The Communists” and there were many headlines suggesting socialist influence, such as this one from the Los Angeles Times: “Lynching Stirs Socialists’ Ire: Maryland Party Demands Ritchie’s [the Maryland Governor] Impeachment; Communists Asks Arrest of County Authorities, Governor Says Safekeeping of Negro Promised.”  It should also be noted that my classmate does not offer this reason as an excuse and says clearly that the lynching was abhorrent, a “display of human brutality and inhumanity.”

   An economic rationale for the lynching is also offered and the times were not good for most blacks or whites during those depression years. My friend notes that “this story evidences to the sociological fact that when economic conditions in an area are particularly bad, the incidence of crime, and especially crimes of mob violence goes up considerably." He also reports that “It was also the opinion of most Princess Anne citizens that the mob was led by outsiders from Virginia…”, but I am sure he doubted that was true.

   The real villains, it was contended, were other outsiders, those in the more civilized areas on the Mainland. In two episodes just prior to the Armwood lynching, the Negros involved had been taken, for safety reasons, to Baltimore where they were defended by the communists, and considerable money was wasted during hard times to prove the obvious. Armwood had also been taken to Baltimore, but was returned because of pressure from those on the Shore and because Judge Duer promised he would be safe. The Baltimore press was hostile and Mencken in particular berated the morons in “Trans-Choptankia” and ridiculed “Eastern Shore Kultur”.  An editorial in The Marylander and Herald asked the question: “Who Took Armwood to Baltimore?” “In the answer to that question, will be found in our minds, the cause of the lynching."

  The hostilities between the Shoremen and the Mainlanders were real and significant and the condescending attitudes toward the Shore morons led to attacks as this headline from The Marylander and Herald indicates: “Sunpapers [published in Baltimore] Are Unpopular Here: Incensed Citizens Confiscate and Burn Bundles as Rapidly as They Arrive.” Taunted, poor and angry, some Shoremen felt they could better take care of their own business and lynch more cheaply those who would be hanged by the State in any case. (One of the blacks who had been tried and re-tried on the Mainland was ultimately hanged.)The essay acknowledges the emotions which were at high tide on the Eastern Shore:

"And finally, this story makes it clear to us on the Eastern Shore that while heritage and self-reliance are valuable and to be cherished, we, or any group under like conditions of environment, must not let these admirable aspects of our lives degenerate  into a clannishness which disregards those laws made for the common good. An incident like that of the Princess Anne lynching must never again enter into the annals of Eastern Shore history."

The Aftermath:

   The Armwood lynching was the last in Maryland. There were some investigations, but those responsible were never held accountable:

“The grand jury issued its report to Judge Duer, and the Armwood lynching case was over. The Armwood lynching may be the only one in the history of the United States in which nearly a dozen lynchers were identified based on the sworn affidavits of police officers, and in which four lynchers were arrested by the National Guard, and yet still no indictments were issued. And so the nine men identified by state police officers as leaders of the lynch mob lived out their lives, several in Princess Anne, for years thereafter, suspected by blacks and whites of being the men who lynched George Armwood and known, more importantly, as a symbol of the legal system’s shameful alliance with white supremacy.”

   In the 1960s the arrival of integration led to violent racial encounters and race riots. In 1964, some students from that small black college attempted to eat in the local white restaurants and were refused service. Police using K-9 dogs and volunteer firemen using hoses clashed with the students. An editorial in the Saturday Evening Post had the title "Nazi Tactics in the 'Free State." An editorial in The Marylander and Herald responded to the comparison of the Maryland State Police to Nazis this way: 

"In an editorial entitled "Nazi Tactics In the 'Free State' the Post gives, as the gospel truth, its own interpretation of what happened in Princess Anne. If the Post had happened to be right its editorial conclusions would have been right. But it was dead wrong, just as dead as a number of persons would have been in Princess Anne if police dogs and fire hoses had not been used. The only alternative to that degree of force would have been guns in self defense. The State Police, with  their K-9 dogs, and the Princess Anne firemen, and their use of water by restraint, to quell but not maim by the use of their hoses, are to be commended and not condemned.”

   By then both the author and I had left the Eastern Shore. I do not know how the racial  relationships are now, or to what degree integration has been achieved.

Digging Up Dirt on the Eastern Shore

It is Black History Month, but I re-visited this event and those times because of the recent publicity generated by the efforts of the Equal Justice Initiative and the establishment in Montgomery, Alabama of what is informally known as "The National Lynching Memorial." One initiative is to collect soil from the places where lynches occurred, so as to increase awareness of what transpired.
The soil has been collected from such sites in Somerset County. In the adjacent county, where there was a lynching in Salisbury just before the one in Princess Anne, they have established "The Wicomico Truth and Reconciliation Initiative." For more details see:"Eastern Shore Lynching Victims Remembered in New Memorial," Jeremy Cox, Delmarva Today, April 30, 2018.
See also the Maryland Lynching Memorial Project. For more about the National Memorial for Peace and Justice which is also known as the National Lynching Memorial see: https://museumandmemorial.eji.org/.

Sources:

The local newspapers have been digitized and made available and the quotations from The Marylander and Herald  can be easily found. 

The "Old Home Prize Essay" by David Pusey is in the issue for Friday, June 9, 1961.

The account of the lynching from The Crisfield Times will be found on Oct. 20, 1933.

The quotation about the lack of consequences for the lynchers is found in: On The Courthouse Lawn: Confronting the Legacy of Lynching in the Twenty-first Century, Sherrilyn A. Ifill.

The Saturday Evening Post editorial about the incident in 1964, is in the issue of  March 28, 1964.

There is a Wikipedia entry for "The Lynching of George Armwood" and one for Bernard Ades.

There had been other lynchings in Princess Anne. Canadians would have read about this one:
                    "A Lynching in Maryland," The Globe and Mail, June 10, 1897.
"Princess Anne, Maryland, June 9.
Wm. Andrews, the young negro accused of felonous[sic] assault upon Mrs. Benjamin T. Kelly, was taken from the Sheriff here today and beaten into insensibility and then hanged to a tree by an infuriated mob immediately after having been arraigned in court and sentenced to death for his crime."

Post Script:

You may wonder why I don't just clarify all of this by asking my old friend David Pusey, the author of the essay. During the Viet Nam war, David served in the U.S. Navy where he was injured on a ship in the Pacific. He was in a coma for years and passed away a few years ago. He was a fine fellow.

The Bonus Material
Recently, John Stormer, the author of None Dare Call It Treason, also passed away. The following is from the obituary which appeared in the Washington Post on July 16, 2018:
"The collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 did not blunt Mr. Stormer’s concern about spreading communism. He said front groups in America and elsewhere continued to promote a subversive, pro-communist agenda.
In an interview on America’s Survival TV in December 2014, he cited claims by police of communist-instigated protests in the wake of the police shooting in Ferguson, Mo., of Michael Brown on Aug. 9, 2014. “There were hundreds of people from all over the country put in hotels and organized those protests,” he said. They were, he added, “looking ultimately to bring about revolution.”

Erotica: A Beginner's Guide

     Let me be clear, this post is for readers and lovers of books, not for you prurient practitioners of exotic sexual practices searching for additional advice. Nor is it another cheap trick to attract readers, which admittedly my first post about “Sex” was. That didn’t work, but there is some consolation in knowing that I do not have to worry about inadvertently offending a member of some movement by broaching a subject such as this one.

I came to this subject honestly by stumbling upon a review of a new book, which is a supplement to a thick older one, about THE PRIVATE CASE. The contents of these books are about the contents contained in The Private Case, which actually consists of more than one case or cabinet. Located in the Reading Room of the British Museum Library, The Private Case held, what was believed to be, a huge collection of erotica and other books and pamphlets which needed to be locked and hidden behind cabinet doors. I wrote, ‘believed to be’, because such material also was not suitable to be listed in the Library’s General Catalogue. If you were a scholar researching a variety of touchy historical subjects, or simply someone who wanted to see some dirty pictures or books, you had to submit a written request. If the material was found, it had to be read under supervision at what was referred to as “the desk of shame” or “wanker’s desk.”

By the 1960s, hiding such a collection in the Library was rather ludicrous, given that one could read (or simply look at) all kinds of naughty material outside of it. There were demands made to make the collection more accessible and to catalogue it so researchers knew what the Library held. One of the people making such demands was Peter Fryer and his book is where you should start your search. The title and the table of contents are here:
Private Case-Public Scandal, Peter Fryer

“A Short History of the Private Case”

“Sexology, Dictionaries and Books about Books”

“Erotic Classics and Autobiographies”

“Hard Core Pornography”

“Homosexual and Sado-masochistic Literature”

“Secrets of the S.S." [These are books that have been suppressed for a variety of reasons: political, religious, obscenity, illegal, libellous, military secrets, blasphemous; here is one example: The Truth About the Civilisation in Congoland.]

     If you wish to graduate to a much higher level you can read this analysis of what was contained in the collection, which has been made more accessible and was catalogued:

The Private Case: An Annotated Bibliography of the Private Case Erotica Collection in the British (Museum) Library, compiled by Patrick J. Kearney. (1981). If you desire a handy list of salacious items that were suppressed in the past, consult this book (be warned, there are hundreds of entries in languages other than English.)  For most of you, reading the very interesting seventy page introduction by Gershon Legman will be enough.

    It is this book that has now been updated and about which I read a review. The book: The Private Case: A Supplement. Notes towards a Bibliography of the Books that used to be in the Private Case of the British (Museum) Library. Comp. by Patrick J. Kearney and Neil J. Crawford. Berkeley, CA:  Ian Jackson.  2016.  The review concludes: “Kearney’s bibliography provides an invaluable opportunity to consider the ways in which that boundary [ for obscenity] has been constructed, reinforced and undermined in British culture. Both as an aid to literary critics and historiographers and as a bibliographic curio in its own right, it is strongly recommended.” (Lloyd Houston, TLS, Sept. 15, 2017, p.30.)

I am pleased to report that the library in which I used to work (and roam) has a copy of the Fryer book and the first Kearney one, if not the supplement. I recall, also, that when ‘bad’ books were discovered, they were kept and protected. Librarians have been on the right side in this battle. When books are locked away it is usually to protect the books from the readers. When censors ban them it is to protect the readers from the books. There is also now within that library, a Resource Centre (the 'Pride Library'), that contains a considerable collection that would have been off limits not that long ago.

Sources:

    Western Library also has a book which contains this essay: “The Private Case: A History,” by Paul J. Cross in The Library of the British Museum: Retrospective Essays on the Department of Printed Books, ed. By P.R. Harris.

    If you want examples of filthy books in the Western Libraries, here are two. Don’t ask me how I know:  Les onze mille verges or the Amorous Adventures of Prince Mony Vibescu by Apollonaire and Verlaine’s,  Femmes/Hombres: Women/Men. According to a review of the Apollonaire work, “The rutting is non-stop.”   

     The website at the British Library provides a good description of The Private Case. 

    You can purchase an electronic version of The Private Case and several thousand other erotic items to view in the comfort of your own home. Gale International has digitized them and they are available in the collection: The Archives of Sexuality & Gender. You can read about it at this Gale Blog. The Western Libraries has purchased Pt.1,  LGBTQ History and Culture Since 1940. That Pt.3, Sex and Sexuality, Sixteenth to Twentieth Centuries, has not been acquired is probably because of the large price attached to such  a collection. Content from The Private Case would be found in this part.

     For erotica closer to home, the New York Public Library has a huge collection. For details see: "Lifting the Veil on the New York Public Library's Erotica Collection," Elain Sciolino, NYT, Jan. 1, 2016. As one might expect, France's National Library has a large amount which is referred to as L'Enfer. Ms Sciolino has written about that as well: "A Library Exhibition Not For the Children's Room," NYT, Jan. 16, 2008.
     Lest you think that your hard earned tax dollars or donations are being used to purchase porn, that is not the case. National libraries typically try to collect the documents produced and are expected to receive them, while other collections often receive such material as bequests.
   

Post Script:

       The usual bonus stuff. 

     If you are too lazy to read a whole book and want to go directly to the "Dirty Bits," buy the book with that title which finds them for you.  It was co-authored by Lesley Cunliffe, apparently a stunning flower-child, who married Marcus Cunliffe, the English-born author of The Literature of the United States, who was 23 years her senior and then Professor of American Studies at Sussex University. Erotica is now tolerated, but such a relationship would not be. For the very interesting obituary see: "Leslie Cunliffe" by Mary Killen in the Independent, April 2, 1997.

     Guillaume Apollinaire’s real name is: Wilhelm Albert Włodzimierz Apolinary Kostrowicki. Had I known that at the time I would have included it in my post about Very Long Names. 

Jails as Hostels

     I read recently that on any given night, there are over 20,000 people spending it in the slammer in neighbouring New York state. That is a small fraction of the 2.1 million imprisoned in the United States, which is ranked at the top of the incarceration category, ahead of El Salvador and Turkmenistan. Apparently jails here are full as well and the local detention centre has had a problem with overcrowding.
     There was a time when jailers were looking for customers and offered cells to weary travellers. I have been re-reading A Time of Gifts which is an account of a walk across Europe in the early 1930s by the 18 year old Patrick Fermor. Not long into his journey on a winter night in Holland he found refuge in such an accommodation. Here is his account:

“I must have made a late start from Dordrecht: Sliedrecht, my next halting place, is only a few miles on, and Gorinchem, the next after that, is not much more. Some old walls stick in my memory, cobbled streets and a barbican and barges moored along the river, but clearest of all, the town lock-up. Somebody had told me that humble travellers in Holland could doss down in police stations, and it was true. A constable showed me to a cell without a word, and I slept, rugged up to the ears, on a wooden plank hinged to the wall and secured on two chains under a forest of raffish murals and graffiti. They even gave me a bowl of coffee and quarter of a loaf before I set off. Thank God I had put ‘student’ in my passport: it was an amulet and an Open Sesame. In European tradition, the word suggested a youthful, needy, and earnest figure, spurred along the highways of the West by a thirst for learning--thus, notwithstanding high spirits and a proneness to dog-Latin drinking songs, a fit candidate for succor.” A Time of Gifts, p. 25.


 That reminded me of another account of jails described as hostels for travellers, which provides an example found closer to home, if further back in time. In the late 1890s, a tramp and his companions jumped from a train in a small town in Michigan and one of them said they needed to locate the marshal.

“We had been here some fifteen minutes, when we saw the marshal coming down  the road leading to the station, the bright star of his authority being seen distinctly on his breast. “Now,” said Brum, “let me be the spokesman, and I will arrange for a month’s comfort.” By this time the marshall stood before us. “Boys,” he began, “cold weather for traveling, eh?”....You would certainly be better off in jail. Sixty days in our jail, which is considered one of the best, if not the best, in Michigan, would do you know harm, I assure you.” “As for that,” said Brum, “we might take thirty days each, providing of course, that you make it worth while. What about tobacco and a drink or two of whisky?” “That’ll be all right,” said the marshal, “here’s half a dollar for a drink, and the sheriff will supply your tobacco.” “No, no,” objected Brun, “give us a dollar and three cakes of tobacco, and we will take thirty days, and remember, not a day over.” The marshall produced the three cakes of tobacco, seeming well prepared for these demands, and giving us a paper dollar, requested us to go to Donovan’s saloon, which we would find in the main street, where he would see us later in the day, “when of course,” he added winking you will be supposed to be just a bit merry?
“What is the meaning of this?” I asked Brum, as we went our way to Mr. Donovan’s saloon. “It simply means this,” he said, “that the marshall gets a dollar for each arrest he makes - in our case three dollars [another bum had joined them]; the judge receives three or four dollars for every conviction, and the sheriff of the day is paid a dollar a day for boarding each prisoner under his charge; we benefit by a good rest, warmth, good food and plenty of sleep, and the innocent citizens have to pay for it all.” 

They showed up appearing to be suitably drunk and were arrested by the sheriff and, the next day, were sentenced to thirty days. The chapter in which this is found is suitably titled: "Chapter 8: A Prisoner His Own Judge." p.50

    They travelled from Michigan into Ontario and apparently jailers here were welcoming as well. They did experience some difficulty on one occasion. “One night we arrived at a small town where a double hanging was to take place in the yard of the jail early in the next morning. A woman, it seems, had called on her lover to assist in the murder of her husband, which had been brutally done with an axe, for which crime both had been pronounced guilty and condemned to die. Thousands of people had flocked in from the neighbouring country, which in this province of Ontario was thickly settled, and a large number of plain clothes detectives had been dispatched from the cities, there being supposed that some attempt might be made at rescue, owing to one of the condemned being a woman.” p.135.
      After some negotiating, they were given a cell. The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp.

 
   If you think you would find such accommodations appealing, here is a list of jails in which you can stay. Be warned that most are swanky and pricey. You can begin in our nation’s capital and reserve a spot at the HI Ottawa Jail where you can “Hunker down among stone walls and iron doors, or even sleep in your own solitary confinement cell. You're free to leave when you want, and the Parliament Buildings, Byward Market and National Gallery of Canada are all within walking distance.” That is the entrance above.
 For you more adventurous travellers here are 9 more:

1. Langholmen Hotell, Stockholm, Sweden

Located in Stockholm's Sodermalm neighbourhood, Långholmen Hotell is near a metro station and near the beach. Royal Swedish Opera and Vasa Museum are cultural highlights, and travellers looking to shop may want to visit Mall of Scandinavia and Sollentuna Centrum.

2. Het Arresthuis, the Netherlands

Situated in a former detention centre in the historic centre of Roermond, Het Arresthuis offers luxurious rooms with free WiFi and a flat-screen TV. Facilities include a sauna and a gym.

3. The Liberty, Boston, USA

Each of the 298 rooms and suites at The Liberty, a Luxury Collection Hotel, has been painstakingly renovated to maintain the historic nature of our landmark building. Inspired by the hotel’s location, Boston, Massachusetts’ former Charles Street Jail, our accommodations feature playful nods to the hotel’s infamous past. But don’t worry, these days, the doors lock from the inside only. But with rooms this luxurious, we can’t guarantee that you’ll ever want to leave.

4. Clink78, London

Clink78 is centrally located just 10 minutes' walk from King's Cross Tube Station and St Pancras International Station.

5. Alcatraz Hotel, Kaiserslautern, Gemany

This fascinating new hotel is a converted prison, offering both cell-style and conventional rooms. It is located near the Japanese Garden in the centre of Kaiserslautern, at the edge of the Pfälzer Wald forest.

6. Hotel Katajanokka, Helsinki, Finland

A unique hotel where chic design, uncompromised comfort and personal service meet in a historic former prison setting – a short walk from the city.

8. Malmaison Oxford, UK

Welcome to Malmaison Oxford, a boutique hotel in Oxford city centre with 95 richly appointed rooms and suites that are packed with some of the best creature comforts that come to mind. Housed in a former prison, the rooms in our Oxford hotel are rather more spacious than your average jail cell and come complete with luxurious beds, super-fast Wi-Fi and power showers. 

9. Q Station in Sydney

Tread the path of Haunted Souls..

Sydney's Quarantine Station on North Head is one of Australia's most haunted sites! 

As darkness descends over Q Station’s historic buildings, the burial ground and empty pathways… the time comes to encounter the ghosts of our site.

     I did not put in links to the hotel sites, but they are easily found.

Sources:

    Both A Time of Gifts and The Autobiography are highly recommended.

    There are now many articles about over-incarceration, the one about the New Yorkers is from: "There's A Strong Case for Sticking With Bail Reform," Emily Bazelon and Insha Rahman, NYT, Jan. 24, 2020.
     For prison data see: WPB: World Prison Brief. 

Post Script:

     The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp is old enough to be freely electronically available. I suggest, however, that you get The Neversink Library edition pictured above since it has a good introduction by George Bernard Shaw who suggests: "All I have to say by way of recommendation of the book is that I have read it through from beginning to end, and would have read more of it had there been any more to read."

     Apart from being talented, Davies was a tough old tramp.  On a snowy night when attempting to catch a train to Pembroke, he missed the hand of his companion (probably because it belonged to  "Three Fingered Jack) and fell under the train and lost his leg. He was found in the snow and taken to the station: A number of people were still there; so that when I was placed in the waiting room to bide the arrival of a doctor, I could see no other way of keeping a calm face before such a number of eyes than by taking out my pipe and smoking, an action which, I am told, caused much sensation in the local press."

    Here is what GBS has to say about the event: "Were not the author an approved poet of remarkable sensibility and delicacy I should put down the extraordinary quietness of his narrative to a monstrous callousness. Even as it is, I ask myself with some indignation whether a man should lose a limb with no more to-do than a lobster loses a claw or a lizard his tail, as if he could grow a new one at his next halting place! If such a thing happened to me, I should begin the chapter describing it with "I now come to the event which altered the whole course of my life, and, blighted etc., etc.,"

   The chapter which contains this episode bears the title " A Voice in the Dark", which is referring to the voice of the injured author and the fact that one man heard it and did not come to help. Davies does drop out of the "Gold Rush" and returns to England where he began to write about his experiences.