On this July 7 (the anniversary of the Battle of Southwark, 1844), I confess to an error on page 222 of The Fires of Philadelphia.
Introducing Captain John Colahan, I wrote that in 1844 he “had connections to Protestant circles, having married Mary Dorothea Zell, daughter of a prominent Quaker merchant.” I based this claim on Charles Morris, ed., Makers of Philadelphia, an Historical Work Giving Sketches of the Most Eminent Citizens of Philadelphia from the Time of William Penn to the Present Day (Philadelphia: L. R. Hamersley, 1894), 70. Morris writes, “Soon after his advent to this city [Colahan] he married Mary Dorothea, daughter of Thomas Zell,” and I took “soon after” to mean less two years after Colahan shows up in Philadelphia in 1842.
Soon after the book was published, Professor Andrew Dinan of Ave Maria University, who is writing about the Kenrick brothers, alerted me to a letter from Francis Patrick Kenrick to his brother Peter, written on July 10, 1844, and noting that Colahan was considering studying for the priesthood. This dates his marriage to some time after July 1844, though I have not pinned down the date.
I am grateful to Professor Dinan for noting this error, and I ask that if anyone else spots a mistake they alert me as he did.
As a long-time bicycle commuter through the City of Fairfax, I appreciate the intentions behind the proposed University Drive Bike Facilities Project. But I fear that the proposal would do little to improve bicycle travel on University Drive, would create new hazards for bicyclists, and would absorb resources best spent elsewhere in the City.
For the 160th anniversary of First Bull Run, I offer a not wholly facetious counterfactual, explaining how two Pennsylvania Militia officers, perhaps mere lieutenants, could have shortened the Civil War by nearly four years.
I didn’t want to spend a lot of space in my book explaining why I believe that Lewis C. Levin was the son of the Lewis Levin Sr. buried in the Coming Street Cemetery, but here is my evidence and reasoning for those who are interested.
My Mason colleague Scott W. Berg and I have an essay in this month’s Journal of American History about our experience planning and co-teaching a course on narrative history writing. “By teaching skills and approaches neglected in other courses, we wanted to empower students to tell those important stories in rewarding new ways.”
Oxford University Press graciously allows me to post a free-access link to a personal website. Just click on the title below.
I present some of my research on Philadelphia in 1844 in Tablet Magazine:
Levin was a rabble-rouser, conspiracy theorist, bigot, and shanda fur di goyim. In an age of resurgent nativism and fake news, he is all too familiar. Yet he is also mysterious. As a newspaper editor and congressman, Levin spoke and wrote countless thousands of words against demon rum and the Catholic menace. But he offered hardly any account of his private life, leaving historians to wonder about both the facts of his biography and the sincerity of his tirades. Where did a nice Jewish boy learn so much hate?