Hidden Gems; or, The Art and Mystery of Microfilm

Yes, that title was composed in the style of an eighteenth-century play title. What can I say? I've become completely enveloped by the 1700s. Whether for my masters or for work, I'm daily immersed in that longest of centuries. In the past two weeks I’ve read more books than I care to list regarding my thesis, and I’ve begun The Sylph by Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire (oh, it’s scandalous and wonderful!).

But this entry is about my job: I'm a research assistant for a blind doctoral student. I read microfilm for her since, clearly, she cannot, and then put the information into a document which her computer converts into a form she can access. Right now I’m in the process of going through the Court Order Books of a county in western Virginia from the last half of the 1700s. The Court Order Books are pretty much just how they sound: records of the proceeds of the court. They include all types of cases, from servants running away, to women having bastard children, to acknowledging deeds of lease and release, appointing constables, clearing roads, cases of debt, attachment, trespass, slander, and even the odd few of people affronting others in the Court Yard or cohabiting with someone else’s wife. Primarily, I’m looking for cases involving apprentices, such as children being bound or getting a guardian. Mostly, these are pretty cut and dry entries in the Court Records, but in between times I find instances that remind me that the eighteenth century is really a… an interesting place.

(If the wording seems un-P.C., please don’t be offended. I just want to state right here that I’m using the words from the Court Order Books.)

I found a case from 1777 where an Indian boy claimed that he was being detained as a slave. The case dragged out over several court sessions and into 1778. Each time the case was mentioned, it grew more interesting. The Indian boy, it was revealed, was called Nat. Later it came out that he was either “Indian or Mulato,” and that he was being poorly treated—so much so that the court records used the word “inhumanely”. That’s kind of a big deal. It stated that if he was found to be a slave, Mary, his “owner”, would have to provide him with “adequate clothing.” As it was, he was removed from her home and was bound out by the sheriff until the case was resolved. Seriously folks, I was on the edge of my seat as the months passed and they kept deferring judgment until the next court. Finally, finally, Mary appeared in court with a document that supposedly proved he was legally owned, and the court ruled… that “he was no slave, but a free man!!!!” (Italics and exclamation points my own.) Seriously, my heart felt lightened and all was right with the world when I read that.

Then there are the sillier things:

*For example: "James Lochard Gent having made oath that he was afraid Duncan McFarland and his son William McFarland would kill or Injure some of his flock of Creatures, It's ordered that the Sherif [sic] take them into Custody." …Flock of (magical?) creatures!

*Or this: "John Mitchell an Indented Servant to John Hannah in Open Court agreed to serve his said Master two years after his present time by Indenture is Expired he the said Hannah agreeing to teach him the art and mistery [sic] of a Black Smith [sic] and Gun Smith [sic]." …Never really thought of smithing in quite those terms before…

*Then a man came into court and said he had been affronted by another man in the Court Yard who called him “a Fool and a whoresbird.” Awesome, I’m totally bringing that one back! Another man brought a suit against a guy who had “biten [sic] his ear.”

*The records also list the prices set for ordinaries, including “lodging with clean sheets” (well, I should hope!) and prices for “whiskey punch a quart with white sugar,” “New England rum,” “peach brandy,” and “French brandy.” Yum.

*Finally, a man named William Wallace keeps coming up in the records. Seriously. I’m sure he didn’t have blue face paint, but that doesn’t stop the mental images.

Those are just a few examples of the endless fun that the eighteenth century provides, without including all the bastard children, adultery, horse thieves, horse buggerers (oh, yes!), and more that I’ve discovered! And these are the everyday folk at the courthouse! I haven’t even gotten around to the telling you about the theatre folk yet, or, even more shockingly, if possible, life in the ton of eighteenth-century London!

Check back soon for even more historical fun!

("High Life Below Stairs," by John Collet, London, England, 1763.
From the collections of the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation)