An odd idea given that even good old Georgia has decided to hop on the winter bandwagon.  The weather people of the world even predicted “flurries” the other day which is generally laughable.  I couldn’t tell you if said “flurries” occurred or not, because I’m generally asleep at 3 AM and not staring out the window praying for snow.

How then, did I arrive at picnics?  Well, I was writing and sometimes writing requires research so there it is.  I wanted to know what occurred at a Victorian era picnic, and I ended up discovering the same information repeated over and over thanks to Mrs. Isabella Beeton’s lovely work, The Book of Household Management.

By simply googling the subject I learned that:

• The location couldn’t be anywhere near a precipice for fear the ladies be frightened by the scene.
• The ground was checked to make certain no one was seated on an anthill.
• If a woman sat on the ground a man couldn’t follow suit unless she invited him to do so.
• Apparently people drank lavender lemonade.

While I’ll admit that adding lavender to lemonade does, in fact, sound like a mildly interesting way to drink it, none of this information particularly struck me as oh-so-fascinating.

I then decided to find something exciting about it.  I ended up browsing through the ProQuest Historical Newspaper database, but instead of sticking with good old England I decided to browse through old New York Times; same time period, but an ocean away.  Picnics certainly can be exciting:

I found two separate articles entitled, “Poisoned at a Picnic.”

• Jul 31, 1886: between 30 and 40 people at the Band of Hope Temperance Society picnic were “poisoned” from what was believed to be bad meat…I really like how the term “food poisoning” hasn’t come into play yet.
• Aug 5, 1887: A “mysterious case of poisoning” occurred to a party of twelve picnicking in Boston.  All but two members of the party were ill, and the article attributes this to “the cheese which they ate was very old and musty, while the ham was also very old.”

Honestly the titles of these sound like murder mysteries–the content just fails in that aspect.  As unexciting as they are, I couldn’t imagine nowadays anyone running this sort of story.  If it did appear online/newspaper/tv etc. it would be a story trying to attribute blame and telling people that the bad meat/ham/cheese was recalled by the manufacturer.  These don’t have any of that.  They read, “people got sick…the end.”

If you’re really looking for a good row, shooting, or dismemberment at a picnic…those happen…much more frequently than I would have assumed:

• Jul 15, 1879, “Features of a Hoboken Picnic. One Man Killed and the Nose of Another Sliced Off.”  The man killed was trampled by the picnic wagon, which was driven by his brother, who decided not to stop and say hello.  While one wagon stopped to try and help the man, a third wagon stopped as well, and somehow a fight broke out.  One man’s cheek was sliced open an another man (whose identity is unknown) had his nose sliced off.  I almost wonder if the nose slicing was invented to make the story more sensational.
• Aug 18, 1885, “Fatal Row at a Picnic.”  This one happened in Richmond Virginia where a fight broke out over whether the brass band should play “Wait Till the Clouds Roll By” or “Dancing Jimmy.” The constable who saw this attempted to arrest the fighters, and the man killed tried to “rescue” his friends from the officers arresting them.  The constable warned him several times to stop and he didn’t so he shot the man with “an old rusty peppper-box revolver.”
• July 19, 1870, “A Disorderly Picnic in Chicago–The St. George Society in Disrepute.” This particular picnic was intended as a benefit for the poor, however the crowd was so large and the tickets were sold so “indiscriminately to whomsoever” that the crowd contained many “thieves, strumpets and roughs”–otherwise known as a “beer-swilling, brazen, loud-mouthing gang of disreputables”…and don’t forget the “notorious prostitutes.”  At about 3 o’clock fighting broke out and didn’t stop until the police got there(who knows how long that took).  One policeman lost his ear, another lost his teeth.  There were many drawn pistols, much free flowing blood, and apparently the police station was busier that day than any other in memory.

While there are many many more picnics that ended badly, not all of them did so on dry land:

• June 4, 1882, “A Picnic Party’s Danger. Many Lives Probably Saved by a Steam-Boat Captain’s Presence of Mind.”  260 students when 14 miles down the Ohio River for their picnic and then came back to Cincinnati afterwards.  The river was almost 40 feet high and it was very windy.  First the boat strikes a pier (Oh no!) and then, to keep everyone from sinking with the boat, the captain evacuates all the passengers onto some coal barges…which they also ran into.  One of the barges had to dump its entire load to keep from sinking.

And just so I don’t end this post on the sour note of picnics gone wrong, these two made me smile:

• June 18, 1899, “Vegetarians Have a Picnic. It was a Red-Letter Day for Potatoes, Onions, Cabbages, and Fruit–Consumption of Meat Denounced.” I’m not a vegetarian myself, and I’ve never really researched vegetarianism throughout the ages, but its really nice to see people promoting healthy living and eating ones veggies.  I also really love how the title names “Potatoes, Onions, Cabbages” and no other vegetables (though I suppose potatoes are a root, aren’t they?).  Many more vegetables are mentioned throughout the article–asparagus, lettuce, haricots, peas–but I’d bet (though this is a complete assumption) that for the time period, potatoes, onions, and cabbages were the most easily available and that’s how they ended up in that headline.  
• May 23, 1884, “The ‘May Blossom’ Picnic. Precocious Thespians Dancing in the Central Park.” I don’t know why, but the idea of “precocious thespians” makes me smile.  20 children, actors and actresses of “May Blossom” which was preforming at Madison-Square Theatre, were pulled down the road on a stage (I’m thinking some sort of old fashioned parade float sort of stage).  They finally reach the picnic site, where a maypole was set up and they danced, sang, and even crowned a Queen of the May before they were sent back to the theater to nap for 6 hours before their next performance.  Even precocious thespians take naps sometimes.

And so, gentle reader, after what seems like the longest post in the history of this blog (oh wait, it is!) I bid you adieu.  I hope everyone has a happy new year, and if anyone lives in one of those warmish places that are still actually warm, go outside and eat a sandwich on a blanket for me…and maybe wash it down with a glass of lavender lemonade.  Just please forgo the brass band playing until a proper playlist can be procured (hooray alliteration!).

Hopefully my next post will be far less historical, but we’ll see.