Saturday Morning, March 13, 2021
Masks Required
Amazing Grace
Three gnarled havocs gathered round a steaming cauldron. Arms outstretched, one stirred as two dropped dollops.
Fillet of fenny snake, in the cauldron boil and bake,
Eye of newt and toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, lizard's leg and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble, like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Sixteenth century parchment choir hymnal page, 30" x 21 1/2".
Hand written in Latin. Liturgical language of the church.
While the choir sang, William Shakespeare wrote.
Incantation. Inhalation. Devil's deliberation. Charms, curses, sow's purses. Ingredients of William Shakespeare's netherworld employed in his play MacBeth. Here we experience early seventeenth century Middle Age enchantment. A landscape dominated by demons and witches, warlocks and suspicious. Are these simply fiction for effect, or reflection of derelict? Shakespeare's stage is a window into a world far from ours, one steeped in superstition, fear through ignorance without a chance of enlightenment. We nod, secure on our twenty-first century perch. But even the strongest of branches can break. Perhaps we are a bit beyond the Nose of a Turk, or Tartar's lips, witches' mummy, or cauldron sips. But still, there is that Thanksgiving wishbone...
Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor
Johann stepped from the gangplank to dockside. The solid underfoot still shifted as his senses said roll while his footsteps begged balance. Three months crossing the North Atlantic would affect even the most God-fearing creature. He stood silent for several minutes, allowing his bearings to realign. Pulling a paper from his waistcoat, he reread the message. Farmer Fretz, Reading, Pennsylvania, his new home still wagon-days away. Johann Georg Homan's passage to America, earned through indenture for himself, his son Caspar, and wife Katherine. Like many before him, this land offered opportunity. His skills in artistry, penmanship, and specifically writing would afford him a comfortable lifestyle, and an additional dividend. Immortality.
Closeup of watercolor illustration from parchment hymnal.
Tractus is French for tract, as in sheet music.
Fraktur Fairy Tale
Relying on his creativity, Johann earned his family's early release from their indentured agreement. He devised a plan to create his Taufscheins, baptismal birth records for German sects. Recorded births were a requirement in Pennsylvania Dutch communities, guaranteeing lifetime identity. With black line blanks printed in Allentown, Johann hand decorated colorful layouts then wrote the necessary information with a penmanship flair. His work met a market as he peddled them from house to house, plenishing demand. Johann's reputation grew, his purse bulged. This additional income was then applied to his indentured debt. With freedom secured, he purchased a home near Reading. The dream of America had crossed his threshold.
Pennsylvania-German student reward slip. Handcolored pen & ink - Georg Michael Schelling, 1767, 4" x 6 1/4"
Simple Twist of Tumeric
In time, Johann turned his energy into publishing books. One subject interested him greatly. The practice among Germans called powwowing. Here was a medical belief steeped in Medieval credence, blended in traditional folk-art with reliance on Divine intervention. The parallel to Native American religion created a symbiotic relationship.
Such was the demand for this medicine, Johann's increasing book list, recording a myriad of cures, sold well. His efforts have gifted us incredible insight into these treatments. Page after page is filled with charm concoctions, magical chants, all combined with community faith. Controversial by today's standards, powwowing had its time and place. Faith, the underlying bond, has a profound effect on those who believe. Not surprising, the practice still exists today, quietly undertaken, far from prying eyes.
Die Land und Haus Apotheke - The Land and Home Pharmacy, Johann Georg Homan, Reading, Penna., 1818, First Edition, printed by Carl A. Brukman.
Blind Faith
Why would anyone rely on such tomfoolery, croak the critics. How foolish the thought, taunt the tutelage. This is the twenty-first century, wake up! scream the disbelievers. Opinions, amplified from a pedestal, inflate the opinionated. Life is a matter of perspective. To attempt empathy with another requires an open mind, a touch of tolerance. But arrogance trumps reason. What hope is there for a people who cling to their guns or religion? rips the politician. The words still echoing across the valleys and hills of Pennsylvania. His pedestal was far too tall.
Pennsylvania-German pen & ink verse, undated, 4" x 6".
Hocus Pocus. Magic spells. Superstition. Amazing how the enlightened see little similarity in their daily rituals. Favorite colors. Identical numbers played in the weekly lottery. Though mechanisms vary, human behavior remains consistent. Same gift, different wrappings. After eons, we still suffer, stalled just one step off that evolutionary beach.
Java Script
The line inside was long again this morning. Still, allure overwhelms logic. She reached the counter. Morning Sarah, spoke the attendant. The usual? They laughed. Bad luck to start my day any other way. The clerk punched the button. Another Columbian Frappé coming up. Sarah stepped aside and stared into the barista's lair. A confluence of steam and smoke curled up into patterns against the ceiling. Quiet words, like a Shakespearian sonnet, reached her ears. The barista, now lost in his task, spoke. Bubble bubble, toil and trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble. He looked back at her, a smile flashed across his face, bordering on disconcerting. Was she really hearing these words, or was it her imagination? She hadn't had much sleep lately. Frappé a forever friend. A cure. The barista continued chanting as he added ingredients.
Pennsylvania-German handcolored copybook, belonging to Magdalene Minsing, late 19th century.
Milk only from a cow most fresh
A barista's dream, or a fool's guess.
Beans harvested in a rising moon
Gods do prefer the month of June.
A wrinkled brow, a sagging cheek
Potassium sorbate helps defeat.
Its compound concocted provides the best
Washington Irving's lasting bequest.
Xanthan anthem bacterium ransom
In the petri dish you grow.
A sludge, a goo, fermented for you
Captured as powder now flows.
I match and mix my magical brew
Bubbling and boiling singing its tune.
Drink up my friend, to the last drop
You know you will never stay on top.
Headstones face east, headstones face west,
Keep imbibing my love, to your final rest.
Vegetable ivory nutmeg grater, 3 1/2" H.
The barista slid the steaming cup across the counter and smiled. Have a nice day.
As we will this Saturday, the threshold to the Ides of March, a true Roman Holiday. So drink up my friends, throw in some rum, something this way wicked comes. Where fair is foul and foul is fair, auction attendees without a care. A stage for all, a stage for none, perhaps your bid will be the one. Or perhaps you'll never get your way, but survive you will for another day.
Doors open at 8 AM. Auction starts at 9 AM. PA AU 1265L [bb]