The Revelation of Radric Davis
By Zach

I await for the next arrivals to come inside my tent. On the last haul ten men were delivered on stretchers, all of them fatally injured. A man walks in with someone with a bullet to the arm. The medics tried to save him but it was very severe and the man passed on. Tomorrow I will hold a service for him. He served nobly in the Continental Army. The army is a dangerous place. Much like the war, the day is cold. My brother and I joined a couple months back. My whole life is based around the end of others. I serve God but sometimes I fear as if my work is changing me. Each day is another funeral for me to host. I guess as long as I’m serving God then I’m on the right path.
My name is Radric Davis. As a lad I spent much time inside the church. My father was a farmer and for most of my life I thought I was too– until I had a revelation it seemed God himself had planned for me. If I were to become a minister, God would set me on the right path. I had no idea that I would be a minister in the Continental Army.
For most of my life I was a normal Protestant minister, until one day, when soldiers came by looking for volunteers for the army. Later that day I was looking at the river and I looked up from the Bible I was reading. I watched a majestic bird fly down to catch its prey. It stopped right in front of me and spit out a fish. It was trout, my favorite kind. “Could this be a sign?” I thought. I stepped toward the fish and examined it. This fish had obviously been dead for weeks, but nothing up to this point had even remotely scraped it. On its left finn it had a cross on it. I didn’t know what this meant but I knew it was meant for me. I got up from the river bank and closed my Bible. Slowly I walked back down to the windy road until I found myself in town again. I greeted the soldiers on their way out of our little community. It hit me, God wanted me to go carry on his blessing for the fallen soldiers. I called out to the nearest one “wait” in the loudest voice I could possibly conjure up. The soldier said “What?” in a strong but irritated voice. After all, they were only able to get twelve volunteers from my frail little town. “I would like to join your regiment, for God has sent me a message and I believe you are in need of a minister.” The man had a stern look on his face. I took a few steps forward still not entirely sure what I was about to get myself into. The soldier studied every step that I took with caution. I jumped onto a horse and we were on our way.
It felt like yesterday even though it was three years ago. I have watched my friends pass on in right in front of me. This war changed me, for the better or for the worse? What did God want for me here? What is my purpose? Was I meant to see all of these deaths? Those are the questions I ask myself each day. Will I ever see my Mom and Dad ever again? Have they passed? I look to my right and to see a bird fly down and look up towards me. I look to my left and see a whole flock of birds. The bird flies back into the flock and all of the other birds look almost happy. What if I was sent here to appreciate my family?
I ran back into my tent, gathered my stuff and snuck away. I was just about to leave the fort when I saw the general. He looked at me with tears in his eyes, “Radric run.” My legs were stiff with fear. That’s when I saw my life flash before my eyes. The farm, My family, my friends, but there was one thing that was inconsistent with all the rest. My family was slowly fading away. “What does all of this mean” I thought. Suddenly I started getting cold. I looked down to see my leg with a bullet inside. I tumbled onto the ground. I took my hands and pulled my whole body forward. I found myself behind the medics tent. I was lifted into the tent. “I’m saved” I thought to myself. Just as the door flap was closing I took a bullet to the head. I looked up to see that same soldier from all those years ago. He said to me, “The war isn’t meant for everybody.” Those were the last words I heard on Earth. My soul slowly started to fade as the soldier propped me up.
I looked up and saw a bright light. I could see the outline of a big hand. “Is this God?” I thought to myself. My body started disappearing. That’s when I remembered if your body is severed in anyway after death than you will not be granted entry to heaven. Everything started to fade. I was in complete darkness.
A few scavengers found my body weeks later. Radric was buried with a gravestone and standard coffin. His body was delivered back to his hometown in which he was buried in the cemetery by the church.

A few slave mothers would kill their babies as soon as they were born so that they would not live to become slaves. Some slave women would even kill the white babies and toddlers so that they wouldn’t have to take care of them. Domestic female slaves were sometimes able to poison their slave owners but this was a rare encounter.
-Zach

Notecards
Christians who committed sins
Source:
“Dying, Death, and Body Disposal.” Encyclopedia of American Environmental History , Facts on File, 2010, online.infobase.com/hrc/search/details/208303?q=death. Accessed 12 Oct. 2016.
URL:
http://online.infobase.com/hrc/search/details/208303?q=death
Quote:
“Religion was an important element in several early American colonies. Christian services involved a religious service and burial. In some areas, churches denied Christian burials to “sinners” (unmarried pregnant women, adulterers, criminals, and non-Christians), disposing of their bodies in pits or unsanctified areas. Christians were often buried in yards adjacent to churches and set aside for burial. European American colonial grave markers were often flat with death’s head images referred to as memento mori that served as reminders that death was imminent.”
Paraphrase:
-Religion was a big part of Colonial America
-All Christians were buried
-In parts of Colonial America churches didn’t allow people who were sinners to g a graveyard
-Sinners included unmarried pregnant women, adulterers, criminals, and non Christians
-For those sinners, Christians would bury them in pits or unholy
-Christians were buried in graveyards next to the church
-On graves Christians put skulls and different symbols to remind the community death happens to everyone and there is no stopping it
My Ideas:
Christian burial in Colonial America is very similar to modern burial around the world. I can infer this is because Christianity is one of the dominate religion today. In the colonial society it was better to be a believer. You were looked down upon and punished for being a sinner. As well as shame, you also get a lot of privileges taken away from you. For example in the article it says, “In some areas, churches denied Christian burials” ( to sinners). Funerals are a very big deal and have been throughout all of time. Everywhere that you go in the world there is a special way of burying people. In fact most of the ceremonies involve God. So for a humans body to be cast aside in a pit it must mean that Christians had a zero tolerance level for atheism. I can infer that this is what kept the church in power. Not only did the church have money power and fame, they also have control of you in the afterlife. What point did the church lose its power? I find it fascinating that Christians were able to except death and face it head on. Maybe the reason why they put skulls on the graves was some kind of superstition?
History:
Created: 10/12/2016 07:16 PM

-Zachary Cappadocia

October 20, Episcopal Church burials important people were buried in the church
the wealthier people were buried in a coffin next to the church
The coffins were mainly made out of wood and decorated
Church stayed the same throughout all of this time
If your family owned land you were buried on it
Since there no stone in Virginia most people could not afford to have tombstone. There could be thousands of buried people in a graveyard but only 10 grave stones
-Zach Cappadocia

Konrad ML.

Konrad’s Day in a Life Piece,

 

My name is Tobias Trey, I work in a tavern day and night. I find this a hard job but when it’s a job you love it halves the work. And it makes it even easier if I have someone to help me. My nephew, Thomas Trey, has had a hard life in the past, he is now twenty one but when he was just a boy, the age of eighteen and below, his father abused him. He beat him in ways not imaginable from a father. Ever since he has lived with me. Still feeling sorry for him, I want him to know that he has to work, and make a living. I’m getting older now and I have already worked for decades in this business but I can’t do it for so much longer. He is talented and he likes the business, he doesn’t quite know this but I want him in the business, I think he even wants to live the life of a tavern owner himself. For now he is still silly and careless that’s why he’s only a bartender.

             A typical day is a friendly day, I wake up with the rooster call, Thomas is already downstairs and has bought the daily bread from the bakery. I dress myself in my typical wear: I have a pair of casual shoes to walk around but not to show off; good working pants so I can look presentable but also do the everyday chores and get dirty; my shirt is also casual and depending on what I’m doing maybe I wear an apron over that. I always have my handy pack of cards with me to amuse the guests, I used to do magic tricks to entertain them while they waited for their food, now Thomas does that, he can perform tricks I never knew existed. He sometimes practices these tricks on his breaks. After the day of hard work serving our guests I get to sleep. Normally I’ll go to bed at nine on a weekday because I have to get up early the next morning. Although on a weekend I can sleep in, as the guests usually do as well, and so I might be in bed a bit later.

Our tavern, the Armored Dragon, is the center of our town, it’s the main spot for socializing and a place where everyone is equal. Although the upper class may think themselves superior, in our tavern there is no such thing as upper class, lower class or even middle class. In the Armored Dragon everyone is equal, we are our own society. When my great grandfather started the family tavern line it was the only tavern in the new world, his tavern was becoming the center of attention. Then my father came along, an arrogant, terrifying man. He believed his tavern should only be for the upper, superior class. He didn’t get many visitors. But now I’m here. If I may say so myself, my tavern has been the best so far. Beloved by all classes and races, my tavern is the town’s social point. Someone comes to good ol’ Williamsburg, they have got to go through the Armored Dragon. They will always get a good greeting from the townspeople there and a good place to spend the night. And soon I hope Thomas can take that place as a tavern owner as well, and all the Treys after him.

The Armored Dragon is a great and loving place as it is, but when too many people come to stay, there’s always a bit of trouble with the sleeping arrangements. We have eight beds. Four for the gents and four for the ladies. If we have, say more women and less men one night, we make one bed dedicated to the women that was originally meant for the men. Although this sounds well planned out, if there are just two too many people, it becomes extremely crowded in the beds. In many taverns the rich can pay their way out of having to sleep with the poor or simply any other people. Not at the Armored Dragon, no one here can pay anything more to get something of a higher quality. Only the horse sleeping arrangements can be upgraded. Even with food, we serve two different but simple meals, one of which is more oriented towards meat and one made of vegetables and fruit. If that does not fit your comfort we’ll suggest somewhere else to eat, or you can buy something and bring it here. The only problem with that is if you want to get a loaf of bread here and you’re already sleeping here, it’s going to be cheaper than say getting that loaf of bread at the local bakery in Williamsburg. Eating is a large part of our tavern, we always have a different smell for dining, be it jasmine or cloves or even something completely different. Thomas always has had a way with smells, he always picks the perfect smell for eating and sleeping. He also knows exactly what the people will want to eat by just looking at them. It sure is good having him around, helping with all the work I can’t do anymore now that I’m nearly fifty.

Konrad Morgan Lehmann

Today when people think of a tavern they think of two things: drunkenness and wild sports enthusiasm. However, taverns used to be much more than that. Have you ever wondered how much taverns have affected America’s past and its people? At the beginning of Colonial America there were not many people, so meeting someone new was very hard. At the time, taverns were the main place to meet, talk, and enjoy beverages. You would have time to express all your feelings and not be judged. Although the Natives Americans and some enslaved Africans did not have “taverns” they still had locations where they would meet and talk over drink and food. Taverns were not just a place for locals of the town to meet up, but also a place for travelers to stay and relax after a long journey. Colonial taverns had a significant impact on early America. They also played a very large social role in all classes and cultures. When the first colonial taverns were constructed, they were not for women, people of color, or Native Americans. Later on they changed this, slowly allowing entry to women, African Americans and then Natives. However, many fights and violent acts came from views that differed in taverns.  In all cultures, taverns were the center of political life.

 

 

 

Sam Saslow

2016

Sam                                                                                                                                      11/15/16

7B                                      A Day In the Life Of Thomas Trey

It was Wednesday. And it was starting to get colder as winter was on it’s way. I looked outside and saw snowflakes coming down slowly. Great, I said to myself, the most busy day at the tavern. My name is Tobias Trey. I am a middle class man. I am also the bartender at The Armoured Tavern in Glen Mill Pennsylvania. I live with my wife and two kids. We live in a small, tight room upstairs in the tavern. My uncle Tobias Trey is the tavern keeper here at the tavern. My uncle has always been more of a father figure then my own father. I never liked my father. He always came home drunk and beat me as a kid. That was one of the hardest points of my life. I used to live with my father but then moved out. It was a relief when I was away from his fists and his screaming. For a few months my family and I had no place to stay. That was until my uncle offered me a room in the tavern.

I got up and put on my rumpled white shirt and my brown trousers and walked down stairs to the bar.

“Morning,” my uncle said to me.

“Barely,” I replied backed to him. It was too early for niceties.

My uncle always said I had a little bit of an attitude. I walked over to the bar and started cleaning the glasses. On top of me I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Hi dad,” Charlie said. Charlie is my oldest son.

“Hi Charlie, you ready for your morning classes?” I said. Charlie is my oldest son. He is  almost ready to work, he is a very strong handsome man.

“Yup,” he replied back.

“Charlie before you leave, go outside and clean the stables, will you,” Tobias said.

Charlie sighed and carried on outside.

“That’s some boy you got there,” Tobias said, looking at square in the eye.

“Ahhhhhh!!!” Charlie screamed.

I ran outside as fast as I could. I could feel the wrinkles of my shirt pressing against me.  

“What is it my boy?’

“There-there-there is a drunk!” he said pointing at a man laying on the ground. The man on the ground was out cold but breathing. He had a long thick grey beard. Breathing heavily I poked him with a stick but he stayed asleep. I hate these drunks and picking them up all the time. It is part of the job though.  “Tobias, you might want to see this,” I called, my head halfway through the door.

Tobias walked outside slowly. The expression on his face changed quickly as he saw the man on the ground.

“Not again. It’s Mr. Woods. This is the second time this week. I gave him a chance but I’ll have to report this.” Tobias walked back inside.

I walked back inside and looked around the tavern. The silver glasses on the ceiling and the different colored drinks on the wall is an everyday sight for me. I never think to much about my surroundings, but today was different. Sometimes being a bartender can get crazy when people are plotting and talking about rebellions on the British.  I love working at the tavern though it’s not the nicest lifestyle. It’s not the nicest because of the conditions. Living in the tavern and picking up drunk people really bothers me. I long to live in the gentry class and when I do my uncle will live with me.  

Looking back on my childhood my uncle was a very important person in my life. Without him I would not be where I am at today. I thank him every day for everything he has offered me. My goal is to change my attitude and make him proud.

A variety of food and drinks were served in colonial taverns. The types of food served at taverns varied depending on class. Taverns were different based on types of class. For example, the more wealthy was the gentry class and the less wealthy was the lower class. The food served came from the fields and from animals which were on plantations and farms. People of the gentry class ate higher quality food then the lower class did. If the gentry class did not like what was served at taverns they could request something else. Usually there was a set meal and people did not order off a menu. The gentry taverns were more luxurious and had better food and drinks than lower class taverns. The gentry taverns were also more expensive than the lower class taverns when it came to food and spending the night. Colonists would be able to tell if a tavern was a gentry class tavern or a lower class tavern, by the way it looked. However, the lower classes received only what was being served at taverns. You had to pay extra if you wanted something else to eat. Lower class citizens could not afford to pay extra. At the lower class taverns, the food, drink, and the tavern itself was not as nice as a gentry class taverns. In addition to being served many different foods, tavern patrons expected a wide variety of beverages and alcohol.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Caroline Maltz
2015

Taverns in Colonial America

Taverns were a crucial aspect of our history because they had a huge impact on future events. The American Revolution burned out of political meetings that were held in taverns. The taverns had a drinking game called Skittles that could have affected how our modern game bowling was created. Women were excluded from taverns because they weren’t allowed to vote or talk about their opinions. It was also unfaithful for women to interact with men who were not their husbands. Taverns were not only an essential and necessary part of colonial life in America. People travelling depended on a tavern every few miles. After travelling for a large amount of time, a tavern was needed for the tired and hungry traveler to find food and drink and a bed or floor to sleep on. Most colonial taverns were the only available public meeting place in early America.

 

Jack Schnall

2016

People did many things at taverns. One thing that they did was play games. A game that they played was skittles. Skittles was a game like bowling, but with nine pins. The pins were made out of wood, and it was played at the gentry and middle class taverns because you could make them yourself, if you couldn’t afford to buy them. People also played card games. The English would play card games that didn’t include counting because after they drank, it was hard for them to keep track of things. They would play games like colors, or crazy eights. Cards wasn’t the most played game, but it was one that they played occasionally. The men would also have drinking contests and other people would bet on who would win. It was very sinful for people to bet and go to taverns, but they did it anyway because they wanted to win money, and it was also fun. Some people would even get addicted to drinking, or gambling. “Inns and taverns in New England were notorious havens for gambling and drinking. Both were sinful acts, and so they tended to take place away from home, hearth, and churchmen. Men drank hard and played hard, throwing bowls, hitting skittles, hurling darts at a dartboard, and played at high stakes at poker,” (Thorp, Colonial America, 1998) This shows that drinking wasn’t a very good action because it was bad for your religion. But people getting addicted was good for the taverns because those people would just keep coming back for more drinks, and that would give the taverns lots of money. They would also make lots of money by people gambling against them because if the customers lost, the tavern would make money. Also, since customers would bet against each other, the loser would have to buy the winner another drink, which would mean that they had to buy it from the tavern, and they would make more money. Overall, people did many things at taverns like play games, gamble, and most of all, drink. But not only did they play games, they also ate and drank many different things that came from plantations.