Tag Archives: Colonial Williamsburg
If you’re interested in the history of TV and film, McFarland Books has a new biography of Hawaii Five-O‘s Jack Lord coming out this year.
Not the sort of thing I usually post about, of course, but I’m plugging it here for two reasons. First, Jack Lord actually does have a connection to the American Revolution. One of his early roles was John Fry, the protagonist of Colonial Williamsburg’s orientation film Story of a Patriot, which has been running daily for sixty years. (In fact, it’s had the longest continual run of any motion picture in American history.)
Second, I’m a big fan of the author, because she happens to be my mom.
Here’s some more info from the publisher:
Before his rise to superstardom portraying Detective Steve McGarrett on the long-running police drama Hawaii Five-O, Jack Lord was already a dedicated and versatile performer on Broadway, in film and on television.
His range of roles included a Virginia gentleman planter in Colonial Williamsburg (The Story of a Patriot), CIA agent Felix Leiter in the first James Bond movie (Dr. No) and the title character in the cult classic rodeo TV series Stoney Burke. Lord’s career culminated in twelve seasons on Hawaii Five-O, where his creative control of the series left an indelible fingerprint on every aspect of its production.
This book, the first to draw on Lord’s massive personal archive, gives a behind-the-scenes look into the life and work of a TV legend.
And they’re not kidding about that massive personal archive. Mom was able to get access to a huge trove of Lord’s papers—letters, scripts, memos, photographs, clippings—along with rare recordings of early performances and interviews. She also spent some time at Colonial Williamsburg’s archives digging up information on the making of Story of a Patriot, which turned out to be quite an interesting tale in its own right.
The last time I went to Colonial Williamsburg, I was sitting in the capitol’s courtroom and listening to the guide give his spiel on eighteenth-century trials, when it suddenly hit me: Americans lived under a monarch before the Revolution. I don’t mean that I didn’t know this before, of course; I mean that it hit me viscerally for the first time.
I’d never felt so distant from the inhabitants of eighteenth-century America as I did at that moment, sitting in that reconstructed courtroom where men—where subjects—dispensed justice under the aegis of a crown on the far side of the Atlantic.
Gordon Wood describes the colonists’ monarchical world in The Radicalism of the American Revolution (p. 11-12):
This was no simple political status, but had all sorts of social, cultural, and even psychological implications. As clarified by Sir Edward Coke and other jurists in the seventeenth century, the allegiance the English subject owed his monarch was a personal and individual matter. Diverse persons related to each other only through their common tie to the king, much as children became brothers and sisters only through their common parentage. Since the king, said William Blackstone, was the “pater familias of the nation,” to be a subject was to be a kind of child, to be personally subordinated to a paternal dominion.…The whole community, said Benjamin Franklin in 1763, is regulated by the example of the king.
The colonial past, in short, is a foreign country. Or at least it is here in America, where we don’t much stock in personal ties to a monarch anymore.This brings us to the current brouhaha over British actress Emily Blunt’s reaction to becoming an American citizen. While folks here in the U.S. took offense at her off-hand joke about the Republican presidential debate,* what interested me about her remarks was her distress at getting drafted into her own personal American Revolution:
One part of the process that was particularly concerning for Blunt was renouncing allegiance to Queen Elizabeth.
“I had to renounce my Queen!” Blunt said.
“The thing that’s weird is I do get to keep both my British citizenship and this, but you have to renounce her. But it’s kind of typically American – not to be rude. I had to renounce her in the room but I don’t actually technically renounce her. They were like, ‘just say it, you don’t have to mean it but just say it.'”
This emotional and personal sense of investment in a monarch is something that seems strange to Americans, but would’ve been familiar to our colonial predecessors. Blunt’s vexation over having to renounce her queen might help us understand why so many Americans hesitated to take that last, fateful step toward independence—and why some of them refused to take it at all, deciding instead to fight, go into exile, and perhaps die for their commitment to their king. Renouncing Parliament was one thing; renouncing the monarch was something else altogether.
Oh, and as long as I’m on the subject of Emily Blunt and the British monarchy, let me recommend the 2009 film The Young Victoria. It’s a very good movie, and Blunt is outstanding in the title role.
*Honestly, though, if your first taste of American citizenship was Trump’s hair on TV, wouldn’t you be having second thoughts too?
About the time I was first getting seriously interested in early American history, my parents and I took a trip to Colonial Williamsburg. We planned to visit Carter’s Grove, the plantation home of Carter Burwell (and before that, site of a seventeenth-century English settlement excavated by famed archaeologist Ivor Noel Hume), but it was only open on certain days of the week and we got our schedule mixed up, so we missed it. CW sold the property five years ago.
Now it’s falling apart, because Halsey Minor, the tech investor who bought the place, has evidently overextended himself and can’t afford to keep it up.
Inspectors from the Virginia Department of Historic Resources have been monitoring the property and have noted in reports the continuing deterioration of the mansion.
“Very little general maintenance work has been conducted,” inspectors said in a March report to the court after a visit to the mansion earlier this year.
“Of critical importance is the need for repairs to the failing HVAC system,” the report says. “During this site visit, there was visible standing water in the mechanical room in the basement, emanating from the chiller water pump. The risk for flooding is very high and could result in an explosion should water make contact with the gas burner.”
The inspectors found water leaks and worsening signs of rotting, cracking and mold throughout the mansion. It was unclear, they said, whether recent repairs actually stopped the water intrusion.
On the outside, they found more shingles missing from the roof, more bricks missing from the walls and more mortar cracked.…
[A court-appointed trustee] discovered that the insurance on the property had lapsed, the property’s caretakers had not been paid in a month, and that utility companies were threatening to shut off the gas, electric and water services for lack of payment. The Carter’s Grove bank account had only a few dollars left.
Pretty sorry outcome for one of the most significant pieces of architecture in the country.
…is apparently good for business at Colonial Williamsburg.
Here’s my take: This is good news, whether the movement’s take on history is sound or not. Folks are going to historic sites in order to engage the past so they can get inspiration for living in the present. In the process, they’re getting exposed to aspects of the past that challenges as well as confirms, and hopefully they come away better informed.
Isn’t that why we do public history?