Monday, July 31, 2017

Talk To Me...Slowly, Please

I just recently participated in an on-line linguistics quiz that sought to map out your speech patterns to reflect the greatest identifiable influence &/or similarities.  My results showed me to associate with Jackson, Mississippi & Birmingham, Alabama.  No insult to me, I was flattered, actually.  Sadly, as I studied the results more closely, I saw that for one particular word that specifically tied me to Birmingham, the contraction "y'all," Kentucky fell in a foggy middle ground where clearly the term wasn't common.  I should say "no longer" common.  It left me pondering how and when this change took place.



I can fathom the current commonality, however, that put Kentucky in the yankee blue rather than Southern red on the linguistic map.  YOU GUYS, the term I detest above all others.  Understand, please, I did not grow up hearing this term.  Maybe it had festered in Louisville by the 1960s, but not in south central Kentucky.  We said "y'all."  It's an inclusive term that is always gender-friendly.  Then, with the introduction of interstates and cable television, it was as if we'd caught a virus that altered our brain wiring and hit a delete button in our vocabulary.  By the 1980s, GUY had been brought southward like a parasite hitchhiking in a boatload of imported fruits from some "furrin" country.  We were infected, and you heard it everywhere, just like on TV sit-coms with fake California accents. We thoughtlessly, mindlessly, accepted the use of a word that not only was unnecessary in most context, but was insulting.  People began calling one another anarchists!   

The grammar is upsetting enough.  You hear it daily if you listen and pay attention.  "You guys, did you see this?"  "I want you guys to ask questions at the end of the presentation."  There is just no reason to designate a  pronoun modifier acting needlessly as a demonstrative adjective for the hateful noun "guy."  "You" is generally sufficient in most cases, yet we insist upon homogenizing our speech patterns and copying this grammatically flawed usage.  "You" is such a fluidly functional word.  The context defines singularity or plurality without extra effort, and without calling names.  "Did you see this" or "I want you to ask questions" encompasses a group audience without question in such a setting, but then we insult our listeners?  Yes, it's an insult.  The word is derived from Guy Fawkes, the notorious English Catholic who attempted to blow up the British House of Lords in 1605.  The greatest historical name perhaps in anarchy, Fawkes' plot and ultimate execution were honored with "Guy Fawkes Day" or "Night" when effigies of Guy are hung & burned in remembrance, and in warning.  His given name became associated with the hanging dummies, but crossing the Atlantic the word of shame became just another word for a male. 

Perhaps Southerners were more aware of their British vocabulary and its origins.  "Guy" in its adulterated form seems to stem from New York and other northern urban centers where concentrations of central and eastern European immigrants adopted the word and adapted its meaning, spreading the corrupted usage westward to the Midwest and on to the California coast.  That equates to a common acceptance by the media, from newsprint to television, which ultimately brought the infection into the homes of the South. 

More was at work, though, to make successful the homogenization of speech in Dixie, be it upper, deep, or middle.  Radio had done its part for decades already.  By the 1970s television, controlled, edited, and acted almost entirely outside the South, was everywhere in America.  It was our generation's smart phone, and we were quickly hooked, listening to dialect and accent foreign to us, but bombarding our children to such an extent we began to assume it was correct, and that we were backwoods ignorant. 

But it took more than television and radio to make us ashamed of how we talked.  By now our populations, even in the smallest of towns, have shifted and changed, with but few remaining who have familial ties to the same location 150 years prior.  Worse than carpetbaggers, northerners and Midwesterners have relocated south in droves, seeking cheap living and better weather, their own roots cut off by an economic hatchet.  They have altered the composition of our communities, having no ties to our past, no desire to preserve what was never theirs.  And we, weakly, allow our children to emulate their speech patterns, finding shame in our own, another legacy of our ancestors we see no value in. 

Gentle, even sweet, slow & melodic cadence of give & take in talk handed down from our grandparents is replaced with fast, nasally droning like wasps, and as irritating.  Old words are gone, new vulgar ones accepted without question.  We falsely "improve" ourselves toward another's model, not our own, acting out of self-imposed shame for no legitimate reasons, just that the incomer finds us less intelligent and backward.  We follow the fool, and become the fool.  No wonder we now collectively see no reason to preserve the past.   It is dead, demise brought by our own hands. We no longer speak the past, we no longer hear it.  If all that is left is a decaying statue, well, why keep it?  We long before stopped telling the stories, so the tales are forgotten, and with them the song of the words themselves.  For spoken word is as much a part of memory as are the tales of a culture.  Both are vital to make us unique.  Without them, we are Xeroxed, cookie-cuttered shadows. You guys get that? 

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

CORN PUDDING, FROM COMMONWEALTH TO COMMONWEALTH, A SOUTHERN SUMMER TRADITION




Ah, mid-summer, and the best of the season’s corn crop is coming in.  No better time than now to think about corn pudding.  Despite the heat and humidity, it’s worth it to turn on that hot oven for the end result. 
A recreated Powhatan Indian cornfield near Jamestown, Virginia

Completely native to America, corn was one of the first crops encountered by 17th century Virginians in the fields of our Powhatan ancestors along the James River.  Likely some form of corn pudding was on the menu at Berkeley Plantation, site of the 1st “Thanksgiving” in America (1619), & the dish as my mother & grandmother prepared it is much the same as that made for our kinsman Thomas Jefferson at Monticello in Virginia. 
The historic cornfield in which the Battle of Perryville, Kentucky was fought 8th October 1862, then and today, where the battlefield lies basically pristine & undeveloped.  150 years ago, corn was as important a staple in the Southern diet as it remains now.




Don’t assume that corn pudding is the same, historically, as “Indian” pudding.  While there may be similarities, corn pudding does not utilize corn meal, but rather whole tender corn kernels in a fluffy egg custard.  Its origins seem based on the traditional English custard.  The basic recipe for corn pudding is found in Eliza Leslies 1837 cookbook Directions for Cookery, but it was an old standard even by then, and favored not just in the South, but the Mid-Atlantic and New England regions as well.  She called it “Green Corn Pudding”, referencing the use of tender fresh corn, not dried mature grains intended for meal. 

“Take twelve ears of green corn, as it is called, (that is, Indian corn when full grown, but before it begins to harden and turn yellow,) and grate it. Have ready a quart of rich milk, and stir into it by degrees a quarter of a pound of fresh butter, and a quarter of a pound of sugar. Beat four eggs till quite light; and then stir them into the milk, &c. alternately with the grated corn, a little of each at a time. Put the mixture into a large buttered dish, and bake it four hours. It may be eaten either warm or cold, for sauce, beat together butter and white sugar in equal proportions, mixed with grated nutmeg.

To make this pudding,—you may, if more convenient, boil the corn and cut it from the cob; but let it get quite cold before you stir it into the milk. If the corn has been previously boiled, the pudding will require but two hours to bake.”

Clearly the addition of a sweet nutmeg-based “sauce” was a yankee addition, something never encountered in the South (thank goodness).  I actually worked with a professional male chef from Pittsburgh who included nutmeg in his rendition of corn pudding.  Lord love him, he’s a fine man and talented in the culinary arts, but I couldn’t choke down that nutmeg in my corn, even if Cousin Thomas Jefferson grew it.  I don't think he ever put nutmeg in his corn pudding, and my grandmother "Miss Annie" sure didn't, so let's not venture there, ok?

The corn pudding we make and serve in Kentucky is pretty much the mirror image of that found in Virginia, our mother Commonwealth.  It’s been a staple at the beloved Beaumont Inn of Harrodsburg for over a century.  Their simple, classic version follows:



Beaumont Inn’s Famous Corn Pudding

 2 cups white whole kernel corn, or fresh corn cut off the cob

4 eggs

8 level tablespoons flour

1 quart of milk

4 rounded teaspoons sugar

4 tablespoons butter, melted

1 teaspoon salt

Stir into the corn, the flour, salt, sugar, and butter. Beat the eggs well; put them into the milk, then stir into the corn and put into a pan or Pyrex dish. Bake in oven at 450 degrees for about 40-45 minutes.

Stir vigorously with long prong fork three times, approximately 10 minutes apart while baking, disturbing the top as little as possible.



I can attest to the succulence of their pudding.  The Dedman family staff has pretty much perfected the process, and the hot steamy corn pudding they serve is consistently perfect, never dry, never “flat”, never too dense.  Our Augusta, now age 9, has already tried her hand at preparing this beloved family recipe that has changed little in 300 years.  Our own version varies little from that of the Beaumont Inn, but I provide it as reference.  I have cut the butter a tad!







INGREDIENTS

2 cups of corn (fresh is wonderful, frozen is “ok”, but canned works rather well.  I often use whole kernel and cream style together if using canned corn. 

3 large eggs, plus the whites of two additional eggs (Augusta & Avery gather fresh brown ones here at home from “Black Belle”, “Beauty” and “Tiana” in our backyard coop, but white “store bought” eggs work fairly well in a pinch should you not have a chicken yard of your own!!

3 tablespoons of sugar (2 works, but I like it a bit sweeter.)

1 teaspoon of Kosher Salt

3-4 tablespoons of flour

2 tablespoons of melted butter

1 pat of cold butter to grease pan

1 cup of whole milk (cream or “half and half” makes this much richer!)



SERVES:  6 to 8 portions



PREPARATION



Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a baking dish generously with extra butter.  Combine flour, salt, & sugar, then add beaten eggs and combine thoroughly.  Add corn, using a whisk to mix now.  Slowly pour in melted butter followed by milk or cream, whisking carefully but consistently.   Pour mixture into greased pan and bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour, testing with a toothpick for doneness. 



Some people do stir the pudding during cooking, attempting not to disturb the top as it sets.  I find no reason for this extra labor.  Let the entire pudding set as it cooks, examining the middle after 40 minutes or so to see if it has set up.  If it still sloshes, keep cooking another 10 minutes and look again, testing with a toothpick as needed.  Usually you can tell by eye when this is done.  It may fall a bit, but don’t worry, you aren’t cooking a soufflĂ©!  When using only fresh or whole kernel corn, you may find that the kernels settle to the bottom somewhat, leaving you with an actual fluffy pudding on the top.  This is completely acceptable.




Sunday, July 16, 2017

Let Freedom Ring



Today I feature a very poignant object.  A somewhat macabre and horrific relic of American slavery, this rather mundane brass bell was recently obtained from a London antiques dealer. It was sold at auction there in the 1980s with an oral attribution of having come from the estate of British abolitionist Thomas Clarkson, it being given to him as a souvenir from  a Charleston, South Carolina plantation.  The bell was alleged to have been dangling from a runaway slave's "Bell Collar", a  grossly inhumane deterrent whose barbaric use continued up until the time of the Civil War in some places.  There was an allusion to this having been sent to Clarkson by the Grimke Sisters, Sarah & Angeline, of Charleston, famed abolitionists born into a privileged slave owning family.  This somewhat mythical provenance cannot be substantiated, though it seems plausible that such a physical representation of Southern slavery would have been given as a token to Clarkson for his efforts in fighting the institution in America. 






Thursday, July 13, 2017

Southern Fried Summer Fruit; Sizzle Required Outdoors Only


Kentucky’s Seasonal Food Heritage


Tastes of an Abundant Season Past & Present



 Breaded Tomatoes, or “Tomato Pudding”



By Gary Dean Gardner, Independent Scholar of Southern History & Foodways





Timeline of  Ingredients



1550s-South American tomatoes grown in Italy

1710 - Reported as being grown in South Carolina gardens

1750s-Tomatoes widely grown for food

1781 - Thomas Jefferson grows tomatoes at Monticello

1812 - French introduction to New Orleans cuisine

1824 - First Virginia tomato recipes in Mary Randolph’s cookbook

1835 - First available in Shaker seed catalogs

1839 - First Kentucky tomato recipes in Lettice Bryan’s cookbook

1850s-First versions of sweetened baked tomato puddings & pies evolve in the upper South

4 big dead ripe fruits or a 35 oz. can
1 stick (1/4 lb.) butter
½ tsp. salt
1 cup sugar
4-6 leftover biscuits
350 degree oven


Sometimes the simplest of foods escape our attention as we become more globally acclimated to once unheard of ingredients and cooking styles.  Cooks, be they amateur or professional, as well as the recipients of their efforts, are bombarded in print and video, not to mention their local “mega” grocery store’s electronic end caps, by luscious looking temptations from every country and ethnicity imaginable, many ready to heat and eat at our leisure and convenience.  We get so convinced of a contrived equation where “exotic + preserved/packaged + expensive = good food” that we lose sight of the basic true mathematical fact where instead “local + fresh/raw + simple preparation – overhead/advertising = good food.”


That to me is pretty simple kitchen math, especially here at mid to late summer when the fresh foods I love to eat and cook with are so plentiful I can buy them cheaply at the farmers’ market, or even have bushels given to me by my green thumbed & fingered father-in-law whose home vegetable garden takes on an appearance likened to the landscape of Biltmore.  My counting does get confused though when it comes to tomatoes.  All of a sudden we woke up one morning, having been tomato deprived for so long, only to discover that they were ripening at a rate faster than a super computer could calculate.  Well, maybe not that fast, but I know they’re already ruining faster than we can eat them.  Ah, such adversity in life.  But, it does make us stronger, and gives us a chance to eat in its freshest form, at least for a few months, what canned tomatoes can’t quite deliver

One of my favorite summertime dishes from childhood, my grandmother’s (Miss Annie, not Nevada May) breaded tomatoes, is pretty much forgotten by many folks today as we become more sophisticated in our palates, due primarily to that lack of dependence upon farm fresh availability that generations past were accustomed to.  While I will make them in the winter using canned tomatoes, there is just nothing like a steaming hot casserole dish of home grown heirloom breaded tomatoes.

The name itself, at least as we term it in my family, is descriptive but still fails to adequately convey the use of this summer produce staple as a fruit, which it certainly is, rather than a more “Spanish” style savory dish as we might find in the deeper coastal South.  In fact, as we prepare the dish, it might be likened more to a non-traditional bread pudding or fruit cobbler than anything else.  Others have called them stewed or even scalloped tomatoes, but generally these versions are related dishes and not quite the same.




The origin for this style of cooking the once feared “love apple” seems to have its roots in Virginia and the upper Carolinas, as it is virtually unheard of in regional culinary centers like Charleston, Savannah, or New Orleans.  It may originate with the antebellum “Tomato Pie” found almost solely in the Tar Heel state.  The predominance of sugar even suggests an association with the old Moravian cooks, and certainly my North Carolina-rooted maternal ancestors perpetuated the dish in our family as we migrated westward into Middle Tennessee and finally into south central Kentucky by 1840.  In fact, the preparation style as handed down to my mother seems to be rather unique to TN and the counties in KY where early Tennesseans mixed into the more native Bluegrass population, though her matriarchal Mercer County cooks retained a similar recipe.

In essence, breaded tomatoes are prepared in much the same way as traditional Southern “fried” apples (fried being another regional term referencing the cast iron cooking implement used more so than the actual process).  Fresh tomatoes are peeled & seeded and placed in an iron skillet with adequate portions of butter and white sugar, with a dash of salt to enhance flavor.  No onions, garlic, or Italian seasonings are used here.  Just as with the skillet fried apples, the tomatoes are stirred on medium heat until reduction begins and the sugar & butter are thoroughly incorporated.  Taste as the mix reduces, adding additional salt (sparingly) and sugar per personal preference. Then, in a buttered baking dish, day old biscuits (preferably) are broken into bite sized pieces to cover the dish.  Please do not ever use cornbread, and even white sandwich bread is not really recommended.  In Eastern Kentucky and elsewhere throughout the South we find many references to bread literally being dissolved into stewed tomatoes to thicken the juice, but that is not the texture we are seeking with breaded tomatoes.  Optimally choose chunks of bread that will soak up the sweet thickened broth of the cooked tomatoes without their being incorporated into a sauce.  We want to be able to bite into the bread to which clings the slightly syrupy chunks of tomato, again like we would find in a bread pudding, only here we omit the eggs and instead add fruit.

Pour the reduced tomatoes over the biscuits, making sure all the bread pieces soak up the sweetened mixture.  IF you reduced this too much and it won’t easily pour, add either another tomato or water to thin out the mix.  Sprinkle the surface with sugar, and bake until bubbly and just beginning to dry out on the top.  The finished product should not need a bowl to contain it when being served.

As mentioned, canned tomatoes work fine, but the fresh fruit is best, particularly when mixing yellow, orange & red heirloom varieties.  By not relying solely upon red tomatoes, you reduce the acid and add natural sweetness.  On family tables in Taylor and LaRue Counties, though certainly sweet enough for dessert, we would never substitute this for the traditional sweet end to a meal.  Rather the breaded tomatoes take their place on the plate as a colorful & rich side dish, verifying the fabled Southern sweet tooth that requires sugar in all vegetables.  For what it may be worth, don’t count the calories.  Just convince yourself you’re eating your veggies, and don’t be surprised if you spoon out a second helping and opt to dismiss the coconut cake as completely unnecessary now!



Eat the Past; Live for Today!






Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Southern By Association; J. S. Curtis Revealed

I know we're all disappointed when published errors are made apparent, but I felt I should share some new scholarship on what was previously assumed to be a Memphis, Tennessee silversmith.  I don't wish to discredit the hard work and noble efforts of prior historians, but I hate to see pieces enter the market with spurious attributions, perpetuating misinformation and applying false values based solely upon a presumed but incorrect Southern origin.

Coin Silver Covered Sugar Bowl marked by J S Curtis, image courtesy Neal Auction & Liveauctioneers

No matter how wrong an attribution for a particular artisan might be in the limited but growing field of research into American, primarily Southern, decorative arts, it is hard to refute printed information.  For we trust books and periodicals, thinking them written and edited by "professionals" who know their business better than we, the reader or modest student of a field of study.  But that is a limited and confining mode of thought, for it discourages discovery.  And, the simple fact is that published assessments of art and antiques can contain error. Some, as in recent revelations such as this, reflect dated "good faith" conclusions based upon limited access in years past to data which is more readily available now. We must forgive any such author for middling mistakes when primary sources were not at hand.

Sadly, some erroneous conjecture is given editorial and institutional "approval" merely because the author has professional associations and connections that  infer a superior grasp on a particular subject, whether or not they are adequately versed and read on the matter at hand.  The lesson is to read, and where questions arise, never take unsubstantiated or undocumented conclusions as valid due only to the credentials of the publication itself.  A good student is a good reader, and they should be cued to findings for which no analytical research is cited.  Accurate findings should reflect an underlying logical process of search and discovery.  Where that is missing, beware and do not rush to accept in its entirety because the author is a professional (paid) historian or supported by the institution they write for. 

Such is so very true in regards to the still infantile scholarship into Southern-made, and retailed, silver of the middle 19th century.  Initials books on the subject are valuable resources still, but a lot has been learned in the past 20-30 years, allowing us to take a more critical look at old assumptions and seeing where honest mistakes might have been made, setting the record straight now for old and new collectors alike.

For those passionate about silver from the "Volunteer State,"  there has been for some years now a hesitancy regarding a plethora of examples of surviving silver that some assumed, understandably, were manufactured in Tennessee.  None marked "Memphis" as was so typical in that city, and not a single piece with provenance to that state, yet dozens of examples of antebellum American silver have been labeled as originating there, thanks entirely to an honest, educated assumption based upon a single Census entry and the confusing mark of a legitimate silver maker of the same era but a differing region whose name was, sadly, a tad too similar. 

There are a couple of related 19th firms that the varied "J S Curtis" marks would be associated with which now need clarification and distinction from the very young salesman of the same working name that apparently plied a similar trade very briefly in Memphis, Tennessee but for whom there is NO indication he was ever a trained silversmith or even marked an example of silver made by another artisan for resale. 

James S. Curtis, Jr. was the 2nd son, and 2nd child, born ca. 1830 in South (or North) Carolina to Dr. James S. & M. S. Curtis.  In 1850, at the age of 20, he was enumerated by the Federal Census for Tennessee in his father's Memphis household as a "silversmith"  along with his older brother, J. C. Curtis, a medical student.  A younger brother, J. B. Curtis, was apparently the first of the Curtis children born in Tennessee in 1838, indicating the family had resided there for only about 12 years, as an older sister was born in South Carolina in 1834, the last child born prior to their removal from the Carolinas.

It is interesting that the 1850 Census offers no real estate value for Dr. Curtis, substantiating the theory he was yet a fairly young physician who had not yet established himself in the Memphis community and who owned no office or home.   As well, despite the occupational reference for James Jr. as a silversmith, he also has no real estate value recorded, inferring he owned no shop but was rather more likely working for one of the major jewelry houses there in the city such as F. H. Clark or Clark's partner and then major competitor, J. E. Merriman.  Confirming this theory, the Memphis City Directory for the prior year (1849) lists neither father nor son, implying that they had only recently arrived in Memphis (though living elsewhere in Tennessee for a few years).  The men are likewise absent from the 1855-56 City Directory, confirming a short tenure for the family in the city proper.

These facts call to question the accurate attribution to James Curtis' hand of a large grouping of sophisticated American silver hollow ware that survives bearing a mark of "J. S. Curtis" or "J. S. Curtis & Co."  If James Curtis in 1850, about the time that all the surviving examples of silver bearing a mark with a name similar to his, was but an employee, for a very short time, in an existing jewelry shop in Memphis where the owner's name, not the employee's, would have been stamped on items sold, then is the attribution of the mark to him during his residency in Memphis logical?

A further look at Federal Census records would further dispel the notion that James S. Curtis Jr. was ever a working silversmith capable of manufacturing the many fine pieces of silver credited to him.  Long before turning up in the 1880 California Census, the family had relocated to Yolo, California, where  J. C. Curtis resided in that year with his brother  J. S., head of household, each designated as a "farmer." So, how and when did this transition take place? 

We know from the City Directory for Memphis that the Curtis family had left the city by 1855.  Per the Sacramento Daily Union of 10 Aug 1855, Dr. James Curtis Sr. already resided by that date in Yolo where he was active in local politics as a "Know Nothing" party member and was a local farmer, raising peanuts & tobacco (per the same paper, 29 Sept. 1863).  James. S. Curtis, the physician turned farmer, is listed as a member of the California State Agricultural Society in 1859, and  J. S. Curtis, again we assume Sr., is listed as a member of the California State Assembly from Yolo County from 1857-58.

 Final proof of an extreme vocational change comes in the Washington Township, Sacramento, California Federal Census for 1860, where James S. Curtis Jr. is listed for the second, and final, time in his brief career as a "jeweler," now residing in Yolo County, CA at his father's home (as already inferred, occupation a farmer). Older brother and former medical student J. C. Curtis is also shown as a farmer in the household. (As well, per the same 1860 California Census entry, we see that James, 29, was born in NC, but his next youngest sibling Thomas, a clerk, was born in Tennessee in 1835, while brother Edwin was born in Mississippi in 1837, better establishing the Curtis family migrations prior to settling permanently in California.)

It would seem that the elder James Curtis went west to follow his brother, attorney and noted early California judge N. Greene Curtis.  Judge Curtis' obituary in the 13 July 1897 San Francisco Call said he was born in Beulah, NC, and had come to California in 1850.  The Sacramento Daily Union went on to explain, "He went to Memphis, Tenn. in his youth..."  Dr. Curtis himself died 18 Nov 1872 per the Stockton Daily Independent.

There is no evidence that James Curtis Jr. ever returns to Tennessee in any vocational capacity, much less as a silversmith.  On 13 Sept. 1866 he married Mary Ann Reavis in Yolo, CA and, as already explained, the couple resides there into the 1880s.  

So, what about all that silver marked by J. S. Curtis?

The legitimate and well documented silversmith Joseph S. Curtis, (http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~silversmiths/makers/silversmiths/220859.htm) began his career as a Yankee spectacle maker in Hampton, CT during the 1830s,  accounting for the eye glasses which turn up in abundance in the antique silver marketplace.  The rest of the story of Joseph Curtis' career as a silversmith then accounts for the huge amount of hollowware that surfaces bearing the name of an obscure Mississippi/Tennessee jewelry store clerk with a similar name.  


Coin Silver Spectacles bearing the mark of J S Curtis, image courtesy Neal Auction & Liveauctioneers


Joseph Stewart Curtis, a  brother of  better known Hartford, Connecticut silversmith Frederick Curtis (husband of Ms. Wealthy Brown Curtis), ultimately expanded his spectacle & jewelry interests into finer silverware production, even becoming a partner with his brother(F. Curtis & Co) by mid-century.  (It appears an 1840 fire devastated the Curtis factory in Hampton, precipitating his move to Glastonbury, CT.)   Below is a letter from Vermont/California silversmith/jeweler Horace P.  Janes which provides some documentation:

Letter to F. CURTIS & Co. in Hartford CT
Private Collection, courtesy of silver scholar William Voss

San Francisco April 30th 1850
F. Curtis & Co.
         Gentlemen –
                           Your Mr. J. S. Curtis in New York put in my charge to be transported to this place, a trunk containing merchandise. I arrived here with the trunk, per steamer Ravenna this day one week ago. – Mr. Curtis omitted to procure me from the Custom House, New York, a manifest of the goods, and as all trunks arriving at this port from Panama have to undergo Custom House inspection, this omission occasioned me a great deal of trouble. On my arrival I was forbidden to take the trunk ashore without a Custom House permit. I came on shore and looked about for Mr. Geo. May, the consignee. I spent two days in making inquiries and looking him up, but entirely with out success. As it was necessary to have the trunk landed, I broke open the Consignees letter to look for an

— page two —invoice of the goods, which likewise Mr. Curtis omitted to furnish me. I had previously put a letter in the P. O. addressed to Mr. May requesting him to call upon me and get the goods, and I waited to hear from him till the very last moment that the goods were allowed to remain on board the steamer. On looking at the invoice I saw that the name of “Curtis, Randall & May,” and for this firm I have looked about and inquired, equally without success. – As the last resort, and to prevent the goods being landed and stored at enormous expense, I undertook the Custom House formalities myself. They are these: I was obliged to give a bond in $180, to procure from the Collector at New York a manifest of the goods certifying that they are of American manufacturer &c, -- I got a friend of mine as a personal favor to go as my security on the bond, and upon this was allowed a permit to take them ashore. The manifest must be produced as this port in six months from the date pf the bond, April 18, or the bond is forfeit. You will please therefore take an inventory of the goods to the Collector in NY and

— page three —get the necessary document made out and forward it to me by the very next mail if possible. – No trunks, whether containing baggage or merchandise are allowed to land in this port without inspection. I was therefore obliged to open the trunk to the Custom House Officer and cut the tin enclosure, to show him that the contents corresponded with the invoice. – This exposure compelled me also to pay freight on the trunks to the steamer. I have done the best possible under the circumstances, and subjected myself to a great deal of trouble and expense, which I should have felt very unwilling to do but for my former acquaintance and friendship with your Mr. J. S. Curtis.
    I have the trunk at present under a cheap storage, and shall continue so for a time till I become satisfied that your agents have “vamoosed,” which I think is most likely. – Their names or either of them can be found in the directory, and some of our oldest merchants have not known anything of them. It must be three months before I can hear from you, and if I can not find the consignees, and I can make a profitable sale for you, I shall take the liberty of doing so for you.

— page four —I am in very great haste, and you must therefore excuse further from me at present
I am very truly                                
Your Obedt Sevt            
H. P. Janes

Clearly then, the Connecticut Yankee was the large-scale silver producer to whom we must credit everything from coin silver eyeglasses to elaborate pitchers that survive marked by "J. S. Curtis." 

For those interested in genealogical details, Joseph Curtis married Julia May (1809-Aug. 1873), d/o Samuel May & Clarissa Smith.  Joseph Stewart Curtis, and his fellow silversmith and brother Frederick, were two of 10 children of Frederick Curtis Sr. & Persis Brown Curtis of Hampton, CT.  (Frederick Curtis Sr. m., 1784, Persis Brown (b. 1767). Frederick Curtis (1761-1830) enlisted, 1777, and served until 1781, as private in Captain Lee's company, Col. John Durkee's Connecticut regiment. In 1819 he applied for a pension, which was allowed. He died in Chesterfield, Mass. Also No. 62464. -------------------- A Patriot of the American Revolution for CONNECTICUT with the rank of Private. DAR Ancestor #: A028857)

 It seems the Joseph & Julia Curtis in later years moved to California, I assume taking his business there as might be evidenced by the letter of H. P. Janes.  They had a son, Stewart May Curtis. 

Anyhow, after all that rambling, current silver and regional decorative arts scholars may of course determine their own conclusions, but personally I find no association between Joseph S Curtis the New England silversmith and James Curtis who worked as a jeweler for a few short years in the state of Tennessee.  The only tie between the two men would be their initials and the fact they both ultimately resided in California.  And, it is highly unlikely that James marked ANY retailed silver, as he never had a shop of his own during his stay in Tennessee.    For those still in doubt, though, I would recommend asking MESDA to verify whether or not Dr. Ben Caldwell's original attribution is correct.  They could, with their resources and far more educated & experienced research associates & contributors, make a final determination and settle a long-standing concern amongst students of Southern silver.