The Roman Hamburger That Wasn’t

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Roman hamburgerYou can add the Roman hamburger myth to the list of hamburger origin untruths outlined in a previous column (see “Top Ten Myths About The Origin of the Hamburger,” Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel, May 26, 2022). What better day to address this than today?

Memorial Day marks the unofficial start of summer cookout season. Fittingly, National Hamburger Day falls on May 28, right in the middle of both National Hamburger Month and National Beef Month.

Which explains why hamburger stories suddenly begin appearing everywhere this time of year. Among the most persistent is the claim that the Romans invented the hamburger nearly fifteen centuries before the Menches Brothers arrived at the Erie County Fair.

The Real Roman “Hamburger” Recipe

For the last decade or so, the “Roman Hamburger” has become one of the most widely repeated hamburger stories in the media. Since the story appears to have originated in Continue Reading “The Roman Hamburger That Wasn’t”

Washington’s Gamble – The Sullivan–Clinton Campaign

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Washington’s GambleWashington’s Gamble began when frontier war threatened the survival of the Revolution itself. The growing violence on the western frontiers of Pennsylvania and New York left him little choice. It was one he had hoped to avoid. But it was the response demanded by Congress. The steady stream of reports from the frontier forced them to act.

Zebulon Butler, who led the defense (and retreat) during the Wyoming Massacre, attested to continued incursions. In a letter to General Hand on March 23, 1779, the Pennsylvanian wrote, “…after severe skirmishing for two hours and a half, the enemy carried off sixty head of horned cattle, 20 horses, and shot my riding horse, which they could not catch, and burnt five barns that were partly full of grain and hay, and 10 houses, which the inhabitants had deserted. They shot a number of hogs and sheep, that they left lying.” He asked that the information be relayed to General Washington.1

Even before Butler’s letter to Hand, Congress had received letters from the governors of Connecticut, Pennsylvania, and New York. On February 25, 1779, they appointed their Commander-in-Chief to raise five companies of rangers. The resolution directed Washington to Continue Reading “Washington’s Gamble – The Sullivan–Clinton Campaign”

The River Ran Red With Blood

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Cherry Valley Massacre

Incident in Cherry Valley – fate of Jane Wells / from the original picture by Alonzo Chappel (1828-1887); Thomas Phillibrown, engraver. Jane Wells is pleading for her life, and a man attempts to protect her from an Indian who is about to kill her. House behind them is being burned by Loyalists and Indians led by Major Walter Butler and Mohawk Chief Joseph Brant, Cherry Valley, New York. Published: N.Y. : Martin, Johnson & Co. publishers, c1856. via Wikimedia

Heart pumping, Hugh Mitchell rushed into his burning home. Face covered against the smoke, his mind raced. Where could he begin? But his mind emptied of all thought when he saw what lay before him. The bloodied bodies of his wife and four children.

Hugh had been out working the fields when he saw the raiders approaching. Too far away to run to his house, he fled into the nearby woods, hoping the Indians would show mercy to his family should they have failed to escape. He hurried to his home as soon as it was safe to do so, only to find his worst fears confirmed.

With melancholy remorse, he extinguished the fire before returning to the corpses. One still breathed—barely. Extending his arms under her, he gently lifted her, then placed her at the door for fresh air. As he bent down to examine the extent of her injuries, he saw another party heading toward the house. He barely had time to hide undetected behind a log fence.

He did not move. He could not. He watched helplessly as one of Butler’s rangers, later identified as Sergeant Newbury, stepped up to the girl and, with a single blow of his hatchet, killed Mitchell’s last surviving child.1

A year later, Hugh Mitchell would testify to this brutal act at Newbury’s trial. The British soldier was found guilty and hanged for his crime.2

But justice was the exception.

And in 1778, exception was giving way to pattern.

*     *     *     *     *

The fate of Mitchell’s family in the Cherry Valley Massacre reveals how warfare intensified in Continue Reading “The River Ran Red With Blood”

The British–Iroquois Alliance and the Fractured Confederacy

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Iroquois Confederacy fracture

Portrait of Samuel Kirkland by Augustus Rockwell

Internal disputes weren’t limited to the Green Mountains on the Province of New York’s eastern edge. But what unfolded there would pale in comparison to what was about to erupt on the western frontier.

Here, in the wild, untamed forests, far beyond the reach of authority, conflict took on a different character. Courts gave way to violence. Diplomacy gave way to force. Far from the centers of power, restraint disappeared. Local actors dictated events, and alliances, long maintained, began to crack.

The conflict did not simply reach the frontier. It entered the Confederacy itself.

Once inside, it would tear it apart.

Samuel Kirkland became that inside man. Ironically, long-time British Superintendent of Indian Continue Reading “The British–Iroquois Alliance and the Fractured Confederacy”

The Shot Not Heard ’Round the World: Vermont’s First Taste of Independence

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Vermont independenceHigh above the Connecticut River sits a mile-long shelf comfortably nestled within the broad curve of the oxbowing waterway in the fertile eastern valley beneath the rolling foothills of the Green Mountains. It had long attracted inhabitants, but the vagaries of violence had repeatedly forced them out.

The land lies dormant. But enticing. Open. Exposed. Its potential untapped.

Beyond the mountains, out of sight, Albany holds court, too distant to exercise its authority over the outer reaches of its boundary. Closer, on the opposite shore of the river, New Hampshire saw it as an avenue of expansion.

Both colonies claimed it. Neither controlled it.

Yet, into that void, settlers arrived.

The first colonists to settle what would become Westminster, Vermont, came from Continue Reading “The Shot Not Heard ’Round the World: Vermont’s First Taste of Independence”

European Rivals and the Seneca Frontier

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Seneca FrontierThe stagnant heat draped over the weary marchers like a heavy blanket. The still air muffled any sound. The eerie silence only gnawed at their nerves.

Suddenly, the quiet forest erupted with sharp cries.

The startled Frenchmen stopped in their tracks. Before they could think, puffs of smoke popped from the thicket before them. Instantly, speeding musket balls whizzed through the ranks.

In an instant, two soldiers lay dead. Stunned by the ambush, the remaining staggered. But Continue Reading “European Rivals and the Seneca Frontier”

Settling Old Scores: The Beaver Wars

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Beaver WarsThe journey east had taken days.

The ambassadors followed the ancient trail that cut through the forests of Western New York. Trail was almost the wrong word for it. Generations of footsteps had worn it into the earth until it resembled a narrow trench, barely wide enough for a traveler moving single file, sunk deeper than the ankle in places. But it was still easier than fighting through the tangled underbrush of the virgin forest.

Even the flats along the treeless banks of the Genesee River—now behind them—had offered little relief. The grass there grew straight and thick, taller than a man.

Still, the air smelled fresh. And hope traveled with the delegation.

Thirty ambassadors of the Cat Nation—the people the French called the Erie—had come to the Seneca capital district seeking peace. They came from the lands west of the Genesee River, where Seneca expansion had begun to press against the hunting grounds of the Erie people.

It was just a mistake. An accident. Something meant to be settled with words, not weapons.

They left the trail and gathered at the council near Sonnontouan.

But hope faded quickly.

The tension in the council house was unmistakable. Words sharpened. Voices rose.

For a moment the room fell silent.

Then it happened.

A Seneca chief lay dead.

No one knows exactly how it happened. Even the French Jesuits who recorded the event could only describe it as “some unexpected accident.”1

But the consequences were immediate.Continue Reading “Settling Old Scores: The Beaver Wars”

A European Tug Of War

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European tug of warLong before a single settler felled a tree in Western New York, kings in Europe were dividing it with ink. There were claims or assertions. They could be real or imagined. They were put on parchment, whether it be maps, treaties, or edicts. Rarely, however, were they enforced. After all, you can’t police a territory where you have no police.

Why, then, would the powers of the day go through all the trouble of pretense?

Well, first, it was all pretend. Europeans did come to this New World. Some explored. Some conquered. Many settled. Still, their activities covered only a small fraction of their claims.

But it was the claim itself that rendered prestige. It was a symbol of potency, a symbol of Continue Reading “A European Tug Of War”

Jasper Parrish And The Terror At Civilization’s Edge

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Jasper Parrish

Massacre of Wyoming (Pennsylvania), 1858, by Alonzo Chappel, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Captain Zebulon Parish saw the man hurry out of the dense woods into the field. The smell of burning wood wafted through the air around him. In the distance, black smoke rose above the treetops. He thought he heard muffled screams, but it might have been the wind whipping through the forest.

His eyebrow furled as the curious settlers assembled. He was the captain. They looked to him for guidance.

Zebulon recognized the man. It was Lebbeus Hammond.1 He didn’t look too good. Out of breath, he huffed and puffed, “We’ve been attacked!”

This is bad, was Zebulon’s immediate conclusion.

His mind raced. They’re probably coming for us next. How long do we have? And should we prepare for defense or run? Continue Reading “Jasper Parrish And The Terror At Civilization’s Edge”

Thomas Boyd And The Brutality Of The Western Frontier

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Thomas Boyd

The monument at the site of the Boyd and Parker ambush. The monument reads: “Sacred To The Memory of Lieut. Thomas Boyd and Sergt. Michael Parker Who were captured and afterward tortured and killed. Afar their bones may lie/but here their patriot blood/baptized the land for aye/and wideened freedom’s flood”
Photo credit: Ed Dehm, CC BY-SA 3.0 httpcreativecommons.orglicensesby-sa3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

In the darkness of September 1779, Thomas Boyd heard the muffled squeal of death.

Murphy, he thought. Can’t that man follow orders?

Boyd—an officer barely into his twenties—missed the fatal irony of his question.

But he did sense his mission was compromised. Boyd had orders to scout the British forces, not to engage them. Timothy Murphy’s shot must have echoed through the woods, alerting the Seneca. Worse, the others got away. No doubt the Indian would quickly warn his brothers. The encounter yielded one scalp, a horse saddle, and a bridle.1 It seemed hardly worth the risk Sullivan’s men now faced.

The scouts needed to get out. And they needed to get out quickly. More importantly, Boyd needed to get word back to the General sooner. He dispatched two runners to ride ahead. They returned to report discovering a handful of Seneca on horseback up ahead.2

The young lieutenant remained confident that he would meet up with the main army soon enough. He rode on with his troops. They had not gotten far before they came upon Continue Reading “Thomas Boyd And The Brutality Of The Western Frontier”

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