The Black Freedman Who Called a Native Nation to Jesus

   by Tom Goodman

One of the lazy assumptions of our age is that Christianity is a “white man’s religion.”

There are reasons people say this. Some of them are painful and undeniable:

White slaveholders quoted Scripture while holding men, women, and children in bondage.

White foreign missionaries sometimes confused the gospel with Western culture.

White churches too often blessed what Christ would have judged.

But history has a way of complicating our lazy slogans.

I doubt you’ve ever heard of Joseph “Jesse” Island, a formerly enslaved Black man in Indian Territory. His story begins in one of the most sorrowful chapters in American history. During the removal of the Five Tribes to Indian Territory in what is now Oklahoma, Native peoples brought with them the thousands of African slaves they owned. Roughly 5,000 to 7,500 enslaved people walked the Trail of Tears with their Native owners.

After the Civil War, Jesse Island was free from his Indian master. And what did he do with his freedom? He went around preaching Christ. Not only to other Black freedmen, but also to the Muscogee and other Native people.

This was no safe hobby. So many Native people were turning to Christianity that Muscogee leaders expanded their “lash laws”—punishments originally designed for cattle rustling and rape and murder—to include those who held or attended Christian meetings.

A first offense could bring fifty lashes. A second could bring one hundred. A third could mean death.

Five tribal police caught Jesse Island. They bared his back, roped him by the wrists, and hoisted him until his feet barely touched the ground. One asked where he had gotten this “new religion.”

Island answered, “In the Old Nation.”

In other words, the nation that had sold him to his Native owners in the first place.

The reply came back: “You have set half of our people to praying and this is what we are going to whip you for.” They lacerated his back fifty times—and then struck him five more times to make their point.

Here was a Black man, enslaved by a Native master, being whipped by Native police for preaching Christianity to responsive Native people.

Is your mind spinning? Are your assumptions upended?

Whatever the faults of white Christians, when those tribal police punished Jesse Island, Christianity was not functioning as the religion of white social control. It was the faith of a freedman who could not stop telling others about Jesus despite withering torture.

Jesse Island’s story does not erase the hypocritical use of Christianity by whites. It exposes it. But it also shows that Christ cannot be reduced to the worst people who exploited his name. The oppressed often saw something in Jesus that their oppressors had missed, buried, or betrayed.

Jesse Island understood that.

I found the story of Jesse Island while reading Donald Fixico’s excellent history of tribal law enforcement called The Lighthorse Police. I am a member of the Western Writers of Amercia, and I was given the book to write a review for Roundup magazine. His book is about the history of Native law enforcement, not Native attitudes to Christianity. But his account of how tribal police treated Jesse Island was compelling.

To read more about the spread of Christianity among Black and Native populations, I recommend the following articles:

• “Why the Enslaved Adopted the Religion of Their Masters—and Transformed It”

• “Christianity is Not a Colonizer’s Religion”

• “Christianity and Indigenous Peoples in Canada”

Also, check out my sermon from 2020 called “Has Christianity Been Complicit in Injustice?”

Tom

Today’s devotional is my own, but the illustration imagining Jesse Island preaching to Freedmen and Natives was generated by ChatGPT.

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A deadly train stunt. A pistol-packing preacher. A UFO crash in 1897. A town that outlawed dancing. In Ten Texas Tales, you'll find stories like this from turn-of-the-century Texas. I mine that seam of history for my novels and for anecdotes to put in my monthly newsletter. Each month, I’ll give you nuggets of history, recommended books and films, and behind-the-scenes looks at my novels.

A Brief History of Soapmaking and a Recipe

 

Have you ever made soap? As a historical romance writer, I have scenes with my characters using soap. The same bar of soap for washing clothes, bathing, washing dishes, and scrubbing floors. Today we have so many kinds to choose from on our store shelves. They range from bars to soft soap to detergent in a variety of fragrances. Research is a writer's joy. So doing a deep-dive into the history of soap making was fascinating. I'll share the highlights here.

Ancient Soap Making

Archaeologists have discovered clay cylinders with soap recipes made from ash and fat dating back to 2800 B.C. They believe it was used to clean wool before carding it to make clothing and other items.

Ancient Egyptians combined animal and vegetable oils with alkaline salts.  A 1550 B.C. Medical text explained how to use soap to treat skin ailments and for washing.

Strigil 

Romans popularized bathing but didn't use soap for personal bathing. Instead, they coated themselves with olive oil, then scraped away the dirt using a strigil, a curved tool. They may or may not have followed that with a bath.

Medieval Soap Makers

During the Middle-Ages soap making became a profitable trade. Mediterranean soap makers refined the process using olive oil instead of animal fat. Castile soap, made from olive oil was gentler than many earlier versions. It became highly prized in Europe. It has stood the test of time and can be found in many stores, online, and in various fragrances.

Alas, soap remained expensive for centuries; most ordinary families used it sparingly, reserving it for laundry and special occasions. No wonder some people only bathed once a year.

 

Colonial and Frontier Soap Making

In the American Colonials, homemade soap became a necessity. Imported soap was scarce and expensive. Housewives saved the ash from their fireplaces. Hardwood was the best. Once there was a sufficient amount, they poured rainwater through it. The ash became lye, a caustic alkaline solution. Animal fats saved from cooking and rendering were boiled with the lye in large iron kettles. Often over a fire in the yard. Soap making was time consuming and if not done correctly could produce a caustic lye soap that irritated the skin.

Pioneer families on the frontier might dedicate an entire day to soap making to produce enough for the year ahead. 

Industrial Revolution Changes Everything

In 1791, French Chemist Nicolas Leblanc developed a process for manufacturing soap ash from common salt. This made Alkalis more available and affordable. With the continuing evolution of manufacturing, factories could produce soap more cheaply than homemade.

Cheaper soap paired well with the Victorian Era's focus on regular bathing and handwashing as a way to combat disease.

By the late 1800s, recognizable brands emerged advertising purity, fragrance and beauty benefits. In 1879 Ivory Soap was introduced. Not only was it white, pure and cleansing, it floated. Soap was more than a cleaning product it became a symbol of respectability and modern living. Ivory like Castile soap is still sold today.

 

The Twentieth Century and Beyond

During World Wars I and II when fats and oils were in short supply due to the war, synthetic detergents were developed. Most modern-day "soaps" are technically detergents rather than true soap.

Even with soap easily available, the interest in traditional soap making never disappeared. In recent decades, artisan soap makers have brought their creations to farmers markets and speciality shops. Their fragrances give shoppers wonderful choices.

What began as a simple mixture of animal fat and ash evolved into an essential household product, a public health tool, and a luxury item. 

Soap making kit

 

Soap Making Facts Our Ancestors Knew

·       Soap making was a seasonal chore. Many farm families made it once or twice a year. It required large quantities of fat and ashes, plus several days of work.

·       Ashes were valuable. Hardwood ash from oak, hickory, and maple were carefully saved. Soft woods like pine produced inferior lye. But if that was all that was available, the ash was used for soap making.

·       Nothing went to waste. Cooking grease, bacon drippings, and rendered animal fat were all collected throughout the year. What seems like kitchen waste to us was an important soap-making ingredient.

·       Soap could be dangerous. A batch with too much lye could burn skin and damage clothes. Experienced homemakers took pride in producing a mild, effective soap.

·       Fancy soap was a status symbol. By the late 1800s, perfumed soaps wrapped in decorative paper became popular gifts. A fragrant bar of imported soap was considered an elegant indulgence.

·       The annual hog butchering supplied soap ingredients. After butchering season, rendered lard and tallow provided the fat needed for the year's soap making. Farm wives usually planned soap making while the supply of rendered fat was still fresh.

·       Whiter soap was considered the best. Light-colored soap was often viewed as a sign of quality. Dark soap wasn't inferior, but white bars look cleaner and therefore more refined.

·       A good soap recipe was a family treasure. Many homemakers guarded their soap recipes and techniques just as carefully as the bread recipes, passing them down from mother to daughter.

 

A Soap Recipe

This recipe is not what my great-great grandmothers made because coconut oil would not have been available on the American frontier. If you want to delve into the art of soap making, this recipe is a great start.

Safety first: Lye (Sodium Hydroxide) can cause serious burns. Always wear gloves, eye protection, and work in a well-ventilated area.

Beginners Cold-Press Soap

Ingredients:

·       16 ounces Olive oil

·       16 ounces Coconut Oil

·       12 ounces distilled water

·       4.5 ounces of sodium hydroxide (lye)

     Instructions:

1.   Wear protective gear, slowly add lye to the water. NEVER add water to the lye.

2.   Allow lye solution to cool to about 100-110 degrees Fahrenheit.

3.   Melt the oils and allow them to cool to a similar temperature.

4.   Pour the lye solution into the oil.

5.   Blend until the mixture reaches "trace", when it thickens to a pudding-like consistency.

6.   Pour into mold.

7.   Cover and allow to harden for 24-48 hours.

8.   Remove from mold and cut into bars.

9.   Cure the bars in a dry location for four to six weeks before use.

Have you ever made soap? Have you ever used Castile soap or Ivory soap? What is your favorite soap?

 Blog  Sources:

1. Konkol, K.L., and Rasmussen, S.C. An Ancient Cleanser: Soap Production and Use in Antiquity.
2. The Ebers Papyrus (c. 1550 B.C.).
3. Pliny the Elder. Natural History.
4. Virginia Smith. Clean: A History of Personal Hygiene and Purity.
5. Alice Morse Earle. Home Life in Colonial Days.
6. Lydia Maria Child. The American Frugal Housewife.
7. American Cleaning Institute, "Soaps & Detergents History."

 

Cindy Ervin Huff, is a multi-published award-winning author in Historical and Contemporary Romance. She’s a 2018 Selah Finalist. Cindy has a passion to encourage other writers on their journey. When she isn’t writing, she feeds her reading addiction and enjoys her retirement with her husband of 50 plus years, Charles. Visit her at www.cindyervinhuff.com.

 

Nine years ago I wrote my debut historical romance. Click here to grab a copy. This story started my writing journey. Evangeline and Jake was a story that sat in my head for a few years. A female doctor going west as a mail-order bride intrigued me. Hope you enjoy it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The New Eleanor (Part 2)

 

By Catherine Ulrich Brakefield

     In last month’s blog, Eleanor’s parents had passed away, and she and her brother were now orphans. Eleanor was the niece of President Theodore Roosevelt of the Oyster Bay Branch and the daughter of his younger brother Elliott. 

Elliott was a womanizer, an alcoholic, and his one shining attribute was that he adored his daughter, and she adored him in return. Not so with Eleanor’s beautiful and talented mother. She thought ‘Little Nell' was plain, boring, and much too serious for a little girl. So, when Eleanor's mother died in 1892, Theodore Roosevelt’s wife said, “I do not feel she has much chance, poor little soul.”

Eleanor was eight at the time. Two years later, her father died. So, it would seem the Roosevelts of Oyster Bay had wiped their hands of these orphans. But it is not the case with Eleanor’s maternal grandmother, Mary Livingstone Ludlow Hall, which had plenty on her plate to keep her busy. So, what were two more children who needed her?

Grandmother Hall was determined that no one would forget about her granddaughter or grandson. Not on her watch. Her grandmother ensured that Eleanor’s education was not lacking. At the early age of fifteen, Eleanor was sent to England and attended the Allenwood School. Her teachers immediately noted the intellectual mind behind the reserved demeanor.

 Little did Eleanor know that God was laying the foundation for her future husband and her life’s work. She would see Romans 8:28 materialize during her later years, “All things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.” (NKJV)

She would impart the experiences she learned throughout her life into practical wisdom for future generations to gleam strength from her weekly column, My Day.

The shy and often timid Eleanor at first wasn’t ready for the sudden boost to her ego that this trip to England would bring. Her teachers persisted that she utilize her intelligence and to ignore the criticism she may encounter. She would later write in her weekly column, My Day, “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by doing the thing which you think you cannot do.”

The criticism she encountered in her youth had come from her mother. Suddenly, Eleanor felt as if she had sprouted wings. Yes, wings of confidence in her new image. These learned teachers thought her intelligent and encouraged her to new heights. Eleanor wisely stored each new experience into her heart, often humorous, as she would one day write in My Day, “You wouldn’t worry so much about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they do.” 

     Eleanor returned to New York at eighteen as a different person from when she had left. She was now a young lady of grace and poise, self-confident and knowledgeable. She accepted the invitations to balls, teas, and other social events with confidence. She understood what her social status required; however, she now added the flavor of her intellect to all occasions. Eleanor would someday write in her weekly column, My Day, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

Her family and friends soon learned she had a will and mind of her own. She was determined to dedicate her time to the New York City Community. This was not heard of. Society ladies contributed generously to the social functions for such institutions but rarely visited the institutions. Not so with Elanor. She joined the Junior League and Rivington Street Settlement House and volunteered her time willingly. She later wrote in, My Day, “I can’t tell you how to succeed, but I can tell you how to fail: Try to please everybody.”

         Meanwhile, Eleanor’s future husband, Franklin Roosevelt was the most eligible bachelor of the Hyde Park Roosevelts, the scion of the time. Franklin’s mother was a Delano of a French Huguenot family (originally de la Noye). They were quite the socialites who happened to make their wealth in trading opium, and then they married well into the Astor dynasty.

         Franklin was an individualist who would often take his leave from the dinners and parties and sought the refuge of the ocean waves. He became an adept sailor and boat handler. He desired to follow his dream and go to the Naval School at Annapolis for a Navy career. Instead, he was sent to Groton and Harvard. Much to his parents’ displeasure, he was not considered one of the popular men.

It was a chance encounter seeing a familiar face across a crowded room of gaily dipping and swirling taffeta skirts swirling about gracefully amidst the twinkling chandelier lite ballroom when Franklin caught a glimpse of Eleanor. Soon, he hoped to catch a glimpse of her again across the party tables of society or the ballrooms of flowing silk and taffeta gowns, amidst the tainted giggles and whispers of gossip. Eleanor would later write in her weekly column, My Day, “Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.”

It didn’t take Franklin long to notice that Eleanor was different from the other girls he had known. She was witty, intelligent, and smart enough to outwit him on occasion. She was equally enchanting in demeanor, and he enjoyed talking openly with her, knowing her true character, so that he did not need to worry that what he confided in her would go no further.

Franklin’s mother was appalled to learn of her son’s plans to wed Eleanor. They met in 1902, and amid the brisk breeze in November of 1903, Franklin’s mind was made up. His mother argued that they both were far too young to marry. She even made her son promise to keep this engagement quiet for at least a year. Plotting to get Franklin’s attention off Eleanor, she introduced her son to other girls in hopes of swaying his feelings for Eleanor.

The Roosevelts have persuaded their son in many of his passions, but Franklin was not to be influenced when it came to choosing his bride. He would have no other but his fifth cousin, Eleanor. In December’s chill of 1904, he announced his engagement.

They were married in New York City on March 17, 1905, in the home of Eleanor’s grandmother on East 76th Street. It also so happened to be during St. Patrick’s Day. President Theodore Roosevelt gave his niece away, and sadly, most of the focus was on the President then on the totally in-love and happy couple. Their vows were said to the tune of ‘The Wearing of the Green’ and drowned in the sea of merriment as the parade filled the street below them. Eleanor was twenty-one, and Franklin was twenty-three. Eleanor couldn’t be happier. She would later write in My Day, “The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.”

They had to put off their planned honeymoon to Europe because Franklin was still in school. So, after a week’s bliss spent in Hyde Park, the newlyweds set up housekeeping in a New York City apartment.

Eleanor’s preparation for the marriage bed was little to none. Alice, the president’s daughter, read aloud the Old Testament to her and sought out the “begat’ passages with pointed clarity. Eleanor hardly knew what to expect. She would later write in, My Day, “A woman is like a tea bag—you can’t tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.”

Check out July’s blog for what happens next in Eleanor’s life.

Swept into Destiny: Ben (first book of the Destiny series). McConnell is a proud Irish immigrant who is determined not to give up despite hunger and deprivation. He clings to his mustard seed faith, believing that nothing is impossible.

Maggie Gatlan is a rebel disguised as a Southern belle. Ben's and Maggie’s journeys delve deeply into the truth about faith and devotion. “… Brakefield’s flowing descriptions pull you into Swept into Destiny and keep you immersed in the world of the Antebellum South…This isn’t just a world of beaus, belles, and balls, but of moral ambiguity and searches for truth…” L.H. Reader

Catherine is the award-winning author of Wilted Dandelions, Swept into Destiny, Destiny’s Whirlwind, Destiny of Heart, Waltz with Destiny, and Love's Final Sunrise. She has written two pictorial history books, The Lapeer Area and Eastern Lapeer, and short stories for Guideposts Books, CrossRiver Media Group, Revell Books, and Bethany House Publishers. Catherine and her husband of fifty-three years live on a ranch in Michigan and have two adult children, five grandchildren, four Arabian horses, two dogs, two cats, one bunny, and six chickens. See CatherineUlrichBrakefield.com for more information.

https://www.azquotes.com/author/12603-Eleanor_Roosevelt#google_vignette

https://www.historytoday.com/archive/franklin-and-eleanor-roosevelt%E2%80%99s-wedding