Radio Script #306
Little Talks On Common Things
May 20, 1956
In the early days of the zipper one fellow asked another, fTWhat did our grandparents do without such a useful device?fT !tWell”, replied the other fellow, “at least they d i dn ‘t get stuck with it.”
In these days, six years into the second half of the 20th century, when zippers work with uniform smoothness, it is wei I to note how such a modern, common thing got its start.
In 1893 Col. Lewis Walker of Meadvi lie, Pennsylvania visited the \’/orld’s Fair at Chicago. There he saw the crude invention of Whitcomb Judson — a sl ide fastener that was interesting but inefficient. It was always getting stuck.
Clumsy and seemingly impractical as Judson’s invention appeared, Col. Walker had faith in its fundamental idea, invested his money in it, spent years of frustration and disappointment, but finally saw the idea succeed. It was 1913 before he organized the Hookless Fastener Company; 1920 before sales reached $25,000 a year; and 1925 before the company had as many as fifty employees. Today the Walker Company, now called Talon Inc., employs 5,000 persons. It operates subsidiaries in both Canada and Mexico. Its modern slide fastener has only the remotest resemblance to the Judson invention shown at the Chicago Fair.
But it al I happened because Lewis Walker, visiting that fair, was determined to keep at the zipper idea unti I he made it work.
A few weeks ago it was my privi lege to examine what is called Timothy Rennick’s Order Book. It is a handwritten manuscript listing the court-martial decisions, at the time they were made, in George Washington’s Army of the Revo- lution, stationed near Boston.
One courT-martial session, held in October, 1776, tried several cases. Let us take a look at them. “Captain David Moore of Col. Stark’s regiment was tried for neglect of duty and disobedience of orders. The court, considering the nature of the offense and the evidence, are unanimously of the opinion that Capt. Moore is gui l”ty and sentenced him to be reprimanded by Col. Stark,” Here’s another:
HJohn Powel I of Captain Abbott’s company and Samuel Blue of Captain Mardin’s company were brought before the same court-martial for desertion. Both were found gui Ity and were sentenced to receive 39 lashes on the bare back and refund the expense of bringing them to their duTy.” Another one: TlJohn Hickey of Col. Maxim’s regiment was tried for rioting and disturbing Col. Poor’s encampment and “threatening the life of Lt. Lyford. He was found gui Ity of both crimes and sentenced to receive 39 lashes.!f The charges were not always rioting or deser-t1on. “Eleazer Smith was charged with counterfeiting the currency of the MassachuseTts Bay, was found gui Ity and sentenced to receive 39 lashes on his bare back.” “John Gi les of Captain Strout’s company, Col. Maxwell’s regiment, was charged with defrauding the Continental Congress. On examination the Court found that the prisoner fraudulently obtained a’ dischgrge from the Director General of the Hospital by feigning himself sick, and afterwards returned to the Camp and enlisted in Col. Wyman’s regiment, where he received $16 bounty. The court therefore found him gui Ity, sentenced him to receive 39 lashes on his bare back, re”turn the money he received as bounty and be drummed out of the army with infamy.”
Now severa I th i ngs are noti ceab Ie in those cases. Fi rst, there is the repetition of the uniform penalty, 39 lashes. How did the number happen to be 391 Can some listener give me a clue? Perhaps you have read of the 39 lashes in some old book of mi litary history. I haven’t. It is news to me. My guess is that George Washington and other mi litary leaders of the Revolution borrowed it from a British practice which, for some reason, forbade a convicted soldier to receive as many as 40 lashes. But what was the reason? Why was the maximum placed at 39?
Then too, notice how different was the treatme.nt of enlisted man and officer.
No 39 lashes for Captain Moore. The poor private, John Hickey, who apparently got drunk and created a disturbance in the camp of another regiment, got those brutal 39 strokes of the whip. But Captain Moore, gui Ity of disobedience of orders, got only a reprimand from his colonel.
Now comes what to me is the most interesting item in this 175 year old document of the Revolution. At the conclusion of al I the cases heard on that October day in 1776, the writer set down in his firm, bold hand these words: HThe General approved al I of ‘the above sentences except that of John Gi les’ sentence relating to his being drummed out~ of the army, which sentence is changed to drumming through Col. Maxwell’s regiment and through Col. Wyman’s, then returned to his duty in The former. f!
George Washington was a keen judge of men. He knew that a fel low with ingenuity enough to get TWO enlistments with two bounties had the wits to make a good fighter. Let the fel low get his 39 lashes, ordered Washington, but keep him in the army.
Several times on This program I have talked about money in the old days,especially the use at one and The same time of both British and American computation.
have explained that the value was arbitrari Iy set at 6 shi I lings for a dol far throughout New England, though it was different in some other parts of the nation. But I don’t recal I that I have ever talked about the change from what was cal led old tenor to new tenor that, was made in the currency a full quarter of a century before the Revolution.
In 1744 France declared war on England, which meant that the French in Canada and their Indian al lies placed at t the Maine settlements in danger. The Province of Massachusetts not only garrisoned the settlements with soldiers; it not only sent the successful expedition to Louisburg; it actually bore half the cost of carrying on the war on this side of the At’lantic. The effect by 1750 was disastrous depreciation of the currency.. The first step had been to introduce new paper notes cal led new tenor, which had better specie backing by the Massachusetts government than the old tenor bi lis. But the Indian war was so costly that by 1750 one ounce of si Iver would buy fifty shi Ilings of old tenor and twelve shi I lings six pence of new tenor bi lis. The Massachusetts government then made a bold stroke. It decided to redeem al I the outstanding currency and to substitute a specie currency. To meet the situation, the government levied a direct tax upon the people of the whole province from Cape Cod to Machias, of 75,000 pounds sterling, and decreed that the tax could be paid in either old or new tenor bi I Is at the fixed rate of 45 shi Ilings old tenor or 11 shi I lings 3 pence new tenor for every Spanish mi I led dollar.
Now comes the part that interests us when we read the old account books with their mention of items like Dr. Ambrose Howard’s charge of 17 cents for put ling a tooth. That law of 1750 decreed that each Spanish mi I led dollar should thereafter be valued at six shi I lings lawful money. That is how we got the long continued practice of six shi I lings for a dol far.
Not long ago I told you about the bewitched horse in the town of Union back in the first decade of the last century. Now want to tell you another witch story, this time about the town of Waldoboro. It is a story remindful of Goethe’s Faust, because it concerns a man who sold his soul to the Devi I and was proud of it.
Uncle Faltin Mink, who lived in Waldoboro from 1778 to 1832, was a shiftless individual whose practical jokes would have gained him a reputation for just being the vi I lage wit if they had not occasionally taken on a sinister tone. Then too, Uncle Faltin made no secret of the fact that he was the Devil’s pal.
Uncle Faltin agreed that on his death the Devi I should have his soul — not like the historic Faust, in retorn for power and wealth, but just that he might have an easy living and a lot of fun with his neighbors. People who knew that Uncle Faltin was the seventh son of a seventh son thought he had a pretty good start on works of wonder before the Devi I got his hand in.
One of Uncle Faltin’s pranks was merely to change the mood of his music, as he played the fiddle for country dances, so that a merry party turned into an ugly brawl. Even at more peaceful dances, when the men went out to get their teams and start home, they would find the barn and yard in utter confusion — horses rearing and sweating, some with tai Is tied together, some harnessed to the wrong wagons; some hitched with their heads toward the whiffletree.
Of course the more intelligent suspected human hands had assisted in Uncle Faltin’s prank, but the more ignorant of the community were sure it was the work of the Devi I.
One of the Waldoboro legends tel Is how Uncle Faltin moved John Russell’s barn with a rooster and a string. Russel I had dug a cellar and had everything ready to move his barn to the new site over it. So he invited all the neighbors to a moving bee. Uncle Faltin laughed at Russell’s elaborate plans and loudly announced that he alone could move the barn with his rooster and a piece of string. Of course the motive power had to be a rooster, because ever since the crowing of the cock on Peter’s denial of Christ, the rooster has been a symbol of devi fish deeds.
On the day of the bee Uncle Faltin was seen sauntering down the road in the direction of the Russel I place, with his rooster under his arm and a piece of string in his hand. When Russell returned from town he found the barn firm and secure on its new foundation. What actually happened no one, least of al I Uncle Faltin, ever told, but the barn was moved.
One day Uncle Faltin went to town to get a barrel of flour. The old man’s credit wasn’t very good, and when he told the merchant he wanted a barrel of flour, all he got was the comment, “I fm not giving flour away to anyone too lazy to work for it. N
“Butff, said Uncle Faltin, “I’ve got the money to pay for it.”
“Let’s see your money”, was the susp i ci ous response.
tfThere it is!ft said Uncle Faltin, pointing to the barrel head. And there, sure enough, were three newly minted si Iver dollars. The merchant took the money, and Uncle Faltin departed with the flour. That night when the merchant counted up the day’s receipts, he couldn’t find those new si lver dol lars. In the i r p lace he found three wooden ch ips of do II ar size.
On his deathbed Uncle Faltin tried to pass on his gift to a neighbor woman, but she flatly refused to accept it. So the old man took his Devi I-granted powers to the grave with him. But to his last hour Uncle Faltin I ived up to his part with Satan. That King of Evi I, as everybody knows, hates light and loves darkness. From the moment Uncle Faltin died unti I his remains were carried out of the house, every time anyone lighted a candle it immediately went out. Even as he started on his last journey, Uncle Faltin was mystifying his neighbors, as he had been doing for many years.
Among old-time sayings and superstitions are some interesting ones brought
to America by the German migrations in the 18th century. Here are some of them:
A ch i I d born with two cow licks wi I I be sma rt .
Re late a dream before breakfast and it will come true.
Bubbles on a cup of coffee signify riches.
Ki I ling a sp i der b ri ngs bad luck.
A green Christmas means a ful I churchyard.
When the cat lying on its side turns its head upward 7 rain wi II come.
Three potatoes carried in a man’s pants pocket wi I I cure him of rheumatism.
Trees peeled on the increase of the moon wi I I sprout again.
And now the clock says we must say good night for old times’ sake.
Year: 1956