Sutherland Tradition: New Year’s Egg-Flip

It is in the writing of one of Thomas Sutherland’s (1772-1850) great-nephews that I found the account of this family tradition, which the great-nephew maintains was practiced by all Sutherland men going back several generations, including Thomas. Here he describes his own father’s version:

As the midnight hour of the last day of the year approached he proceeded to prepare a decoction known as the Egg-Flip. He had a large pot brought from the kitchen to the dining-room fire and into this he poured the contents of several bottles of beer, a bottle of stout, and a half-a-dozen eggs, which he had beaten up. After simmering for a while, and being allowed to reach almost to the boiling point, a few glasses of whisky were added, then the whole was poured into large jugs and ready for consumption by those who cared for it. We boys hated it, which is not surprising; and our guests—for a few neighbours always popped in—while professing to think it excellent, never partook freely of it. The result was that almost all the stuff had to be thrown out, but this fact did not deter my father from repeating the process year after year, with the same invariable result. Even the additional fact that in the process of manufacture the hearth rug was almost always, much to the distress of my mother, seriously damaged, did not suffice to stop the custom, which was certainly one to be more honoured in the breach than in the observance.

As a beverage, the Egg Flip can be dated back to the late 1690s apparently, and enjoyed some popularity in the Victorian era. More reliable recipes are available online, if anyone is interested. But as far as family traditions go, this does seem to be in keeping with earlier descriptions of Sutherland and his well-stocked cellar.

“A Note on Tights”; or, Anne Sutherland, part II

While researching Anne Sutherland, I discovered that at some point in the late 1880s or early 1890s she was one of many actresses who posed for photographs which were given away in packages of Newsboy tobacco. The photos were usually somewhat racy by contemporary standards, with the theatricality of the costumes and poses serving to excuse the impropriety.

If this was not enough, I then stumbled across an article in H. L. Menken’s groundbreaking American Mercury titled “A Note on Tights” in which the author revisits these postcards from his youth. Included is his assessment of Anne Bland Sutherland’s portrait. If this was not sufficient, when I realized the author was Carl Van Vechten—an important figure in the Harlem Renaissance, Gertrude Stein’s literary executor, and a photographer in his own right—I was hooked, and knew I would be excerpting the passage on Sutherland in full, rather than simply relying on it for information. Van Vechten writes:

“I picked up Anne Sutherland, garbed in martial costume, with helmet, velvet armor and trappings, tights fitting close to the full but symmetrical legs, and high boots. She was about to draw her sword, and her expression was as vigilant and as dauntless as that of Carpentier in the second round. Anne Sutherland, who now lives such a quiet life in the country, returning to New York occasionally to play the part of a middle-aged adventuress in some melodrama! Memory stood by my side and whispered that Miss Sutherland had begun her career with operatic aspirations: she went, indeed, to Germany to study Brünnhilde. Dreams and circumstances once more came into conflict, however, and it was not long before she found herself playing principal boy in the burlesque companies of E. E. Rice, who will be remembered as the entrepreneur of “Evangeline” and “1492”: this was the period of the cigarette pictures. Still later she elected to become an emotional actress and broke china in the third act with great sweeps of elemental passion. A extraordinary career, and it will soon be forgotten, I muttered, unless somebody puts it into a novel, and I fell to musing as to who should do this now that James Huneker was dead.”

Later Van Vechten mused on another actress that “Like Anne Sutherland, she is not forgotten.” Anne Bland Sutherland appears to have posed for more than one of these images; presumably they paid quite well. In an earlier image for Lone Jack tobacco she is equally exposed, though her outfit makes her seem less majestic than the one above. But if I had to pick a second favorite, it would be this one:
There are other surviving photos of Anne on stage, in costume, and a copy of at least one other absolutely lovely promotional photo, which she has autographed. As of yet, I have found none of Josie (though a skipping rope artist who appeared on Vaudeville, with the same name shows up) or of the other siblings.

A Sutherland Pin-up Girl; or, Anne Sutherland, part I

In 1937 Winning Pendergast wrote of her distant Sutherland cousins, actors, describing “Edward, Anne and Josie” as “charming stage folk, whom Eliza knew in Boston.” It is a tantalizing line. But it wasn’t Boston they resided in; born for the most part in Washington, D.C., the siblings were raised in Chicago, Illinois. It was there they first took to the stage, later joining touring companies, appearing in New York, etc. While Winning recalls them as “charming”—and they may have been—in reality they were also remarkably scandalous, and perhaps “colorful” would have been a more appropriate appellation. One only has to recall Theodore Dreiser’s Sister Carrie (1900) to understand just what attitudes were towards the profession and its practitioners, both deemed morally suspect at best—more so the women. (That the novel is set in Chicago is even more fitting in this instance.) The great-grand nieces and nephews of Thomas Sutherland (1772-1850) were anything but conventional.

Thus brother Edward A. W. Sutherland (1872-1931) might have been amused or mortified to be remembered as an actor, depending on his perspective. In reality, he wasn’t a performer, but a mechanical engineer. That honor went to his brother, James L. Sutherland (1870-1904), a baritone whose wife (Georgia Ione Dewey) was also on the stage. Sister Josie Sutherland (1868-1897) was a secondary but noted player, often touring in operas and comedies, and generally described as very good, though in 1891 The Galveston News opined “Miss Josie Sutherland, the soubrette, dances fairly well, but her singing is nothing extra.” Nevertheless, she was of sufficient import that the Sunday Globe, of St. Paul, Illinois, informed its readers in 1884 that “Josie Sutherland and Will H. Mayo were married as long ago as Nov. 6 at Trinity Church, Chicago, Ill.” Likewise, The New York Clipper Annual would later report: “Josie Sutherland divorced from Will H. Mayo, Chicago on May 8, 1892.” Of course, tracing Josie Sutherland and Will Mayo in the records is complicated by the fact that both used stage names. Josie was baptized “Frances Josephine” and Will H. Mayo was really William H. Austin—or at least that’s the name he used for the wedding ceremony.

Ultimately, James and Josie had short careers; as the Chicago Tribune noted in 1893, it “was in error in the announcement that Miss Josie Sutherland, the soubrette, had recovered sufficiently to renter the theatrical profession, It is probable ill-health will keep her in Chicago at least three months longer.” She died four years later. James, who was at the time stage manager of The Wizard of Oz company, died from appendicitis in 1904 at the age of thirty-three, leaving behind a daughter, Margaret Mary.

By comparison, their sister Anne Bland Sutherland (1866-1942), known as “Annie Sutherland” for the duration of her time on stage—despite her three marriages, four if you count the fellow who repeated—had a longer and far more interesting career. A contralto, Anne began singing in the choir of the Church of the Messiah, making her professional debut as Little Buttercup in the Chicago Church Choir Pinafore Company’s juvenile production of H.M.S. Pinafore at Haverley’s Theatre in 1881. By that time, the Haverley juvenile company was an institution, though of uneven quality. Shortly before she joined, The Canadian Monthly Magazine had written of the production:

“The success attending the visit of Haverley’s Juvenile Pinafore Company was attributable rather to the ‘infant phenomenon’ craze by which astute managers like Mr. Haverley know so large a part of the public to be possessed, than to much intrinsic merit in the performance itself. The singing, especially in the choruses, was often shrill and hopelessly out of tune, while in some cases, especially in that of the Josephine (Annie Walker), it was rather pitiable than enjoyable to witness the unsuccessful attempts of the child to render music entirely beyond the compass of her voice.”

Presumably Anne was a superior performer to poor Miss Walker. Indeed, the shape of her career suggests as much. A later commentator would note of Anne that “Her professional experience has covered all lines of work, and she is a hard working and thorough actress and a general favorite.” The Chicago Tribune remembered her kindly: “Miss Sutherland had appeared with many of the greatest stars of her generation.” Her profession took her to England and the Savoy Hotel, London, as well, and led her to appear in at least seven movies between 1915 and 1931 with such wonderful titles as A Woman’s Resurrection (1915), My Sin (1931) with Tallulah Bankhead, and It Happened in Paris (1932). (My Sin can be purchased online—though there’s no way I can phrase that without sounding somewhat salacious, I tried.)

The plays and people Anne was associated with are now long forgotten, but it is clear that she had considerable cachet. In part we can determine this by the degree to which events in her life were reported on in the public press. Her marriage to the well-known comedian/dancer Richard Field Carroll in New York in 1886 appeared in print, as did their subsequent marital woes. Namely, in March of 1891, a headline appeared in the Philadelphia Record: “Anne Sutherland Wants to be Freed from Her Husband.” Identifying Isabella Urquhart (also an actress) as co-respondent, the press reported “The serenity of the first two years of Mrs. Carroll’s married life was dissipated by the discovery that her husband was finding more solace in the company of another woman.” Even the New York Times found the suit worthy of note.

Their divorce was covered in newspapers, as was their later remarriage that same year, and the inevitable second parting of ways shortly thereafter. Another spouse followed, and then a third, Charles H. Harding, a commercial traveler for a cotton mill (shades of Sister Carrie again). By 1920 they were over, as that year Anne identified herself as single and by her maiden name in the census, heading a household that included her mother, a sister (Margaret, another actress, also possibly divorced), and a niece. 1930 found her alone, describing herself as a widow—perhaps because her former husband Richard F. Carroll was now deceased.

Anne Bland Sutherland died after a long illness at the age of 75, in the Pilgrim State Hospital, Brentwood, New York. Her daughter Anne Carroll—who died quite young—was not mentioned in any of the obituaries printed, nor were her husbands, movies, career as a pin-up girl (more on that in part II), or even surviving family members. Instead she was eulogized in the theatre’s most respectful terms, as a “veteran trouper.”

What the Sutherlands Read

I've written elsewhere about the Sutherland family and their reading habits, particularly the likelihood they were familiar with the works of Sir Walter Scott. Here is an example of an actual book that belonged to the family, held by the Lambton Room. Inscribed in the front is "Grace Sutherland, from her father." The 35-page book (titled simply Death: A Poem) was published anonymously in Edinburgh in 1826, and I have been unable to track an identifiable author for it (I'm pretty sure it wasn't TS, Jr., as the style differs, but I wanted to be sure). For anyone who might be interested to know what kind of book Thomas Sutherland (1772-1850) thought suitable for his children, the book can be read online.

Given the date and place of publication, in combination with what would appear to be a limited print-run, it seems likely it was one of the books the Sutherlands brought with them when they first came to Canada, and thus was probably loaned out to various members of the community. I find it melodramatic and a bit sensational at times, but the pressed leaves suggest a more sentimental or melancholy interpretation on the part of an earlier reader.

The Talfourds, the Lambs, and Normand House

I'm pleased to share that my essay titled "Managing Madness: Charles and Mary Lamb, Thomas Noon Talfourd, and Normand House" is scheduled for publication in the October 2010 issue of The Charles Lamb Bulletin. Talfourd's brothers Froome and Field were neighbours to the Sutherlands in Upper Canada, and it was in all probability through this family that Thomas Sutherland met Charles Dickens while visiting England in the 1830s. (A Canadian obituary for Froome Talfourd conflates the brothers: Dickens dedicated The Pickwick Papers to Thomas, who was also the model for Tommy Traddles of David Copperfield--not Froome.) Elsewhere I have shown the unlikelihood that Sutherland met Dickens and others in the home of Froome and Field's mother, as an earlier report claims. The fact that the elder Mrs. Talfourd was the doyenne of what was termed a "madhouse" at the time makes this additionally improbable.

This essay addresses in large part the Talfourd family's seventy-two year association with Normand House (Fulham), an asylum for ladies where Mary Lamb spent time. Reading the available records--admittedly scant--as well as reports of various Lunacy Commissions to determine more about the residents, has been fascinating.

Sarnia's sun shall rise!

Late Nineteenth-Century Sarnia

I've commented before on Thomas Sutherland, Jr.'s (1797-1880) status as poet of Moore. I thought it might be interesting to post a few more of his poems, if only to demonstrate the mood of the time. In this case, that would seem to be boosterism. While I've made the point elsewhere that his poetry isn't all that fantastic, once again, that's not the point. Thinking about it generously, this poem attests to the son's desire to improve his region, as well as his pride in it--both of which he no doubt inherited from his father. However, lacking his father's business sense, TS, Jr. took up the pen, hoping to inspire others.

Exhortation to Port Sarnia

Sarnia, thy situation designates a splendid station
For the fair display
Of Canadian resources, if no apathy divorces
Energy from Sway.

Say'st thou?--"Sand and marshes all met" Let this sand, with lime, avail thee,
City to cement
Drain the swamps, and soil superior, never seen a surface cheerier;
Lambton longs for vent!

Near an enterprizing neighbor, asking interchange of labor,
Land and water woo resort;
Middlesex presents its treasure, Michigan responds with pleasure,
Be their prosperous port.

"Mend thy ways," from lake to London,--be no longer idly undone,
Make a lasting road;
Weather-proof, and life-ensuring, self-supporting, trade-securing,
To thy brisk abode.

Nature nursed thy nook north-wester, as a capital investor,
Huron and St. Clair combine,
With their confidence transparent, to make latent wealth apparent,
Open then thy mine!

Rouse from retrogressive slumber, let not churlish chain encumber,
Learning league with merchandize;
Christianity, thy standard;--with vigor for thy vanguard,
Sarnia's sun shall rise!

Thomas Sutherland
Moore, November 11, 1855

Sutherland Scandal

Thomas-Ann Sutherland Abbott

The story of Robert Horatio George Minty (1831-1906) and his common-law relationship with Laura Abbott (1844-1909), while married to her sister, Grace Ann Abbott (1836-1920), will be known to many Sutherland descendants. Grace and Laura were granddaughters of Thomas Sutherland, by his daughter Thomas-Ann (1812-1902) and her husband Richard Abbott (1808-1872). Those who've read Winning Pendergast's Sutherland family history may recall that "Thomas-Ann (and one wonders who she was named for, with a Thomas already in the family) washed up the dishes one winter’s night, January 29, 1834, put her shawl about her and ran down to the river's edge to meet her lover, Richard Abbott, and they rowed across to St. Clair and were married. " (The aside is Pendergast's, incidentally, though it does make me wonder if the original TS might have been a bit self-infatuated to name both a daughter and a son after himself.)

Apparently Thomas-Ann's daughter Laura inherited a bit of her mother's rebellious spirit, though with more spectacular results. In chapter 31-32 of his book Minty and his Cavalry: A History of the Sabre Brigade and Its Commander (Michigan, 2006) Rand K. Bitter covers the family scandal, and Laura's subsequent efforts to prove (falsely) the legal validity of her relationship. In addition to consulting surviving family members, Bitter has dug into a particularly rich archive, namely U.S. Military records, tracing the sisters' competing claims to a widow's pension, and the interviews and letters collected shortly after Minty's death in an attempt to sort out the mess. While Bitter's primary focus is Minty himself, the family dynamic covered in these chapters is fascinating. (He also includes a genealogy of his descendants, as well as photos of both families that may be of interest to some.)