We're going to the zoo, zoo, zoo...

I love zoos. I am glad that I still have a relatively small kid so I can go to the zoo without making excuses, but I would go even if I didn't. We are blessed in Northeast Ohio to have not one but two great zoos: the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo and the Akron Zoo. My son and I visited the Akron Zoo last weekend, and it inspired me to think about the history of zoos.

The predecessor to the modern zoo was known as a menagerie, and the oldest of those is believed to have been in Egypt, circa 3500 BC.  Zoos were kept by the ancient Greeks and the Romans, although it seems that the latter kept them primarily to house the animals which fought in the Colosseum.

Source: "The Tower Menagerie."

The first British zoo was a collection of exotic animals amassed by Henry I in the 12th century, housed at the royal residence in Woodstock. The Royal Menagerie was started by King John in the early 13th century, and was housed in the Tower of London until 1835. The "Lion Tower" was built by Henry III to house a trio of leopards given to the king by Emperor Frederic II; another building was erected in 1255 to house an elephant gifted by Louis IX.

The collection was not opened to the public until the 16th century, when the Tower housed a lion and several lionesses, a tiger, a lynx, a wolf, a porcupine and an eagle. Conditions were such as would appall us now--habitats more resembled prisons than the natural settings we use today, and the food offered was unconventional--King James I's elephant, for example, was given wine from April to September, as it was believed it could not drink water at that time of year.

By the early 1830s, the zealous efforts of the menagerie's dedicated keeper, Alfred Cops, had resulted in a collection of over 280 animals. Given the size, and the fact that over the years the animals had developed a habit of occasionally attacking guests (in the 18th century a baboon hurled a cannon ball at a visitor, killing him), it was determined that the Tower was no longer the appropriate place to house them, and the majority of them were donated to the London Zoo in Regent's Park.

The London Zoo in Regent's Park, 1828. Source: Wikipedia. 

The London Zoo opened in 1828 and is the world's oldest scientific zoo. Access to the zoo was originally granted only to members of the London Zoological Society, but it was opened to the public in 1847.

Photo by Derek Ramsey, via Wikimedia Commons. 

The first zoo in the United States was chartered in 1859 in Philadelphia, but did not become a reality until 1874. The zoo rests on the land once owned by John Penn, grandson of William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania.

Sea Lions at Wade Park Zoo. Source: Cleveland State University.

The zoo I know the best, Cleveland Metroparks Zoo, was founded in 1882 in Wade Park, which now houses the Cleveland Museum of Art, the Cleveland Museum of Natural History, and the Cleveland Botanical Gardens. The Zoo moved to its current location in Brookpark, just west of Cleveland, in 1914.

Minnie the Elephant, 1910. Source: Cleveland Metroparks Zoo.

 

The Zoo's first elephant, Minnie, was acquired through the "Pennies From Children" fundraising campaign in 1907.

Wade Park Barn. Source: Cleveland State University.

The Wade Park Zoo began with a donation of 14 deer, and they lived in a Victorian-style barn built just for them in 1884. It moved along with the animals to Brookpark, and now is one of my son's favorite places at the zoo--it serves as a Ben & Jerry's ice cream shop.










My favorite site at the zoo, however, is the meerkat habitat.

The Akron Zoo, to the south of Cleveland, opened in 1900 on land donated by heirs of the founder of the City of Akron, Simon Perkins. It's much smaller than Cleveland's zoo, but it's lovely, AND it has penguins.

I have visited zoos in at least nine states (so far), and could write about all of them, but right now I have the strangest urge to go to the zoo. . .

Some resources:
*The Smithsonian's collection of historical documents and images of zoos: http://www.sil.si.edu/ondisplay/zoos/intro.htm
*World's First Zoo: http://archive.archaeology.org/1001/topten/egypt.html
*Wikipedia's article on the history of zoos is pretty comprehensive: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zoo
*A story about the great cats housed in the Tower of London: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/4371908.stm
*http://www.hrp.org.uk/TowerOfLondon/stories/buildinghistory/royal-menagerie
*This book features a history of the Tower Menagerie and descriptions of all the animals at one time housed within it, which perhaps owe rather more to drama than to accuracy. "The Tower Menagerie: Comprising the Natural History of the Animals Contained in that Establishment : with Anecdotes of Their Characters and History," by Jennings (1829). (Available on Google Books.)
*http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1313816/The-polar-bear-lived-Tower--grumpy-lion-baboon-threw-cannon-balls-Britains-bizarre-zoo.html
*Philadelphia Zoo: http://www.philadelphiazoo.org/About-the-Zoo.aspx
*Wade Park Zoo: http://clevelandhistorical.org/items/show/387#.VANkL_ldWJE
*Cleveland Metroparks Zoo: http://clevelandhistorical.org/items/show/506#.VANmRPldWJE and http://resourcelibrary.clemetzoo.com/historicals/1
*Akron Zoo: https://www.akronzoo.org/History/3/33/293

In Praise of Deadlines

As you all know, given how loudly I shouted it from the rooftops, I recently signed a contract for my first book. This week I received a flurry of emails from the publisher and my editor, with tons of business-related stuff, marketing tips, and--ta da!--my first round of edits.

I have been told by published writer friends that the moment you sign that first contract you're no longer writing on your own timeline. You can't just write whenever you feel like it any more. Once you sign, you have--cue dramatic music--deadlines.

I have to admit I actually like deadlines, since I am fundamentally lazy. If I know that someone is waiting on me to do something, I will do it. If no one particularly cares when I do something, I will often put it off--especially if it's icky or hard--until someone does care. This is not, perhaps, my finest trait.

So when my editor gave me a deadline, I was very happy. First, because it was a reasonable one--she doesn't want my edits next week, she wants them next month. Second, because it will motivate me to do what needs to be done, in a timely fashion. Hopefully I will not wait until the night before the deadline to finish...

The other good thing about deadlines is they make me do things I don't particularly want to do, inevitably allowing me to discover they weren't as bad as I feared (most of the time, anyway). I was terrified to open that document with the edits. What if she hated my book? What if she wants me to change everything? The more rational side of my brain told me she didn't hate it--if she had, she would have rejected it and I would not be writing this post--and that she wouldn't want to change everything. But I was nervous, so I waited hours before I opened it. But once I did, of course, I discovered her changes only made the book better.

What do you think about deadlines? Do they motivate you? Annoy you? Tell us your best (or worst) deadline story!

A Victorian Era Time Capsule

Two weeks ago my family and I wandered westward for a family reunion and to visit some of my husband's childhood haunts. On the way there my husband suddenly turned off the road into the DeSoto National Wildlife Refuge. Turns out he spent many happy hours exploring there when he was a kid, and when he saw the entrance he impulsively decided to stop to see how it had changed in the last 40 years.

The Missouri River

It was a fortuitous detour, at least for this history geek, because on the land owned by the Refuge, the wreck of a steamboat rested in the mud for 100 years.

On March 18, 1865, the Steamboat Bertrand set off down (up?) the Missouri River from St. Louis, Missouri for the newly discovered gold fields in Fort Benton, Montana Territory. It carried 250,000 pounds of cargo as well as many passengers.

On April 1, 1865, the ship hit a submerged log on the treacherous Desoto Bend of the Missouri River, about 25 miles upstream from Omaha, Nebraska, ripping a hole in the ship's hull bottom. It sank in 12 feet of water in under ten minutes. Although all the passengers were saved, almost all of its cargo was lost. The Bertrand joined over 400 boats that sank on the Missouri during the steamboat era.








The ship sank into the mud and stayed there until 1967, when the search for the wreck began, spurred on in part by the fact that the Bertrand was reputed to be carrying 30,000 pounds of mercury, which was to be used in mining operations in Montana. The excavation was completed in 1969, and all artifacts were turned over to the Fish and Wildlife Service.

Crate filled with indigo

Most of the cargo was held in crates, barrels, and burlap sacks, which were almost immediately covered with thick clay, thus preserving it. When the wreck was discovered the cargo was in nearly the same pristine condition it had been when the vessel sank a century before. For a writer whose time period is the 1860s, it was a treasure trove indeed.






There is SO MUCH stuff they don't have all of it on display, but there is enough to give you an excellent idea of what people wore, what kinds of things they used for cooking, working, playing, and relaxing. Some of my favorites are posted below. I apologize for the picture quality--all I had was my phone, and I had to be quick because the battery was dying. . .

This shows how the Missouri River has moved since the sinking. 

A passenger's account of the sinking. 

A silk overcoat belonging to Annie or Fannie Campbell

Lice combs, as well as combs made of rubber.

Bottles of French champagne and brandied cherries. 

Ironstone pottery from England and glassware.
The second shelf holds tins of powdered yeast.

From top left, counter clockwise: Yeast powder, nuts,
lemonade cans and flavoring, and what look like gold bars but aren't. . . 

Candle holders, a griddle that looks very like the one I have,
irons, fireplace tools, and salt cellars. 

The top shelf holds a lady's shawl, and the bottom holds men's ties.
I think. I neglected to photograph the identifying card.

Socks and boots.

Sorry, this pic is particularly bad, but it
explains the munitions that were found.

There's an interesting article, with photos from the excavation, at http://www.nebraskahistory.org/publish/publicat/history/full-text/NH1970Bertrand.pdf.
The Bertrand collection also has a Facebook page, at https://www.facebook.com/SteamboatBertrandMuseam, with way better photos than the ones I took, including pictures of items not on regular display.