Marian “Clover” Hooper Adams, Dog Portraitist?

June 7, 2021

By Heather Rockwood, Communications Associate

Known to her friends and family as “Clover,” Marian Hooper Adams was born in Boston, 13 September 1843, to Robert W. Hooper, an eye doctor, and Ellen (Sturgis) Hooper, a poet and a Transcendentalist. Clover and her two older siblings were raised by her father after Ellen died of tuberculosis when Clover was only five.

Clover married historian and writer Henry Adams, great-grandson of President John Adams, in 1872. They moved to Washington in 1877, where Clover was known for her wit and celebrated salon. She took up photography in 1883 and her work as a portraitist and landscape photographer was admired within her social circle. Although asked to publish some of her photographs, she declined.

After seeing Clover’s amusing portrait of her dogs Possum, Marquis and Boojum in “Three Dogs at Tea in Garden” recently, I wondered if she had an affinity for taking photographs of dogs. And the answer is yes!

Three dogs seated on chairs at a table set for tea — The photograph that inspired this blog post: Three dogs at tea in garden, by Marian Hooper Adams, 1883-1884. This photograph features Possum, Marquis and Boojum.

Although her main subjects were mainly landscapes or portraits of her friends and family in various settings, dogs made it into these portraits ten times out of the one hundred and thirty seven photographs held in the MHS collection. In her two and a half year career as a photographer from 1883-1885, seven percent of her photographs contain dogs!

Her favorite dog to include in her portraits was Marquis, who appears in five of the ten portraits, although Boojum with three and Possum with two portraits are close runners up. What I find most fascinating about Clover’s dog portraits is their clarity. Portraiture in the 1880’s was becoming easier for the subject, as exposure, or sitting, time was down from minutes to seconds. But it could still have been up to 64 seconds depending on the time of day, year, and lens used on the camera. These long exposure times lead photographers to ask their subjects to sit very still or they must choose to take pictures while their subjects naturally repose, or rest. After viewing many of Clover’s portraits, it is clear she preferred mainly the latter and you can see why in this image of a young boy and dog in front of a windmill.

Photo of windmill with boy and dog — Windmill, boy and dog in foreground, at Falmouth, by Marian Hooper Adams, circa 1885

A blurred image shows the movement of the subject during the exposure time while a photograph was taken. And in this image where Clover took a photograph while Brooks Adams, her brother in law, was caring for a horse shows some very specific blurring.

Photo of a man, dog, and horse — Brooks Adams with horse and dog, by Marian Hooper Adams, 1883

You can see that the dogs would need to be specially trained to stay still for up to 64 seconds, which Clover may have achieved. Or the dogs may be used to being in repose with their human companions. I especially enjoy the images that look as if Clover captured a moment between the human and dog where they are relaxing with each other.

Photo of a seated man with a dog — James Lowndes at Beverly Farms, seated outdoors in wicker chair, reading book, with dog at feet, by Marian Hooper Adams, 1883

This portrait features Boojum at the feet of James Lowndes, a friend of the Clover and Henry Adams.

Photo of a man seated on steps with a dog — Henry Adams seated with dog on steps of piazza, by Marian Hooper Adams, 1883

Marquis playing with Henry Adams, Clover’s husband.

Photo of a woman seated next to a dog — Betsy Wilder seated on piazza, with dog at her feet, by Marian Hooper Adams, 1883

Dandy can be seen here relaxing while Betsy Wilder, beloved housekeeper from Clover’s youth, knits on a porch.

In the images which appear more staged, rather than at rest, you can see that the dogs are upright and either looking at the camera, or looking at their human companion.

Photo of a woman seated at the beach with a dog — Mrs. Jim Scott and dog seated by rock at east end of Singing Beach, Manchester, glass plate negative by Marian Hooper Adams, 1883

This image is from a glass plate negative, displayed in positive as the printed portrait is much more difficult to see. The subject of this portrait, Boojum, is seen quite clearly at the feet of Mrs. Jim Scott, a neighbor who came along for a day at the beach.

Photo of woman seated on steps with two dogs — Miss Langdon seated with two dogs on steps of piazza, by Marian Hooper Adams, 1883

Toto and Marquis are seen here comforting Miss Langdon, who is in mourning attire for her recently deceased grandmother, on the same porch steps which we saw Marquis playing with Henry.

Photo of a man and dog in the window of a playhouse — James Lowndes and dog in window of playhouse, by Marian Hooper Adams, 1883

Marquis is seen here relaxing, perhaps after a brisk walk, with James Lowndes. This may have been on the same day as the other image with James Lowndes.

Natalie Dykstra writes in her biography Clover Adams: A Gilded and Heartbreaking Life, “If Clover could be playful and mocking in her pictures, as with her “dogs at tea” photograph, a send-up of social convention she occasionally found tedious, she could also evoke sadness or an intense feeling of loss.” I do feel that although the subject of dogs can be whimsical, especially for photography in the 1880’s, that their human companions mostly evoke sadness.

Photo of two dogs seated at a table set for tea — Two dogs at tea in garden, by Marian Hooper Adams, 1883

The second and last in Clover’s “dogs at tea” series features Marquis and Possum. This one has a more natural setting and no white backdrop giving the image a feeling that the viewer happened upon this tea party that was already occurring.

To read more about Marion “Clover” Hooper Adams and her photography visit the MHS online Collection Guide, see the MHS Selected Letters and Photographs, or read The Beehive blog post about those pages and the biography by Natalie Dykstra.

Further Reading:

Letters Shed New Light on Henry Adams | Beehive (masshist.org)

Clover Adams’ Memorial: From a Husband Who Would No Longer Speak Her Name – Atlas Obscura

The Great Worcester Tornado of 1953

June 9, 2021

By Susan Martin, Senior Processing Archivist

Today, 9 June , marks the anniversary of a tragic day in the history of Worcester, Mass. and the surrounding areas. On this day 68 years ago, a catastrophic tornado swept across the county, causing massive damage and killing 94 people. The MHS holds a collection of 72 photographs taken by Boston photographer Alfred K. Schroeder in the aftermath of the tornado.

Photo of 1953 Worcester tornado — Photo. #29.18

Photograph showing destruction from 1953 tornado in Worcester, Mass. — Photo. #29.51

The statistics are staggering: 94 killed, 1,288 injured, 4,000 buildings damaged or destroyed, hailstones the size of baseballs, winds exceeding 300 miles an hour, debris thrown as far as Cape Cod, and over $52 million in damage (in 1953 dollars). The tornado lasted 84 minutes, mowing a path about 45 miles long from Petersham to Southborough. When it hit the county seat of Worcester—the second most populated city in Massachusetts and home to over 200,000 people at the time—the storm was a mile wide. Ten thousand residents, or 5% of the population, lost their homes that day. (Some sources put this number as high as 15,000.) The 1953 Worcester tornado still ranks as one of the worst in U.S. history.

The storm must have been a terrifying sight to see. When it first touched down, eyewitnesses reported seeing three funnels simultaneously. Among the hardest hit areas were the campus of Assumption College (now the site of Quinsigamond Community College) and the Burncoat Hill and Great Brook Valley residential neighborhoods. Other, smaller tornadoes were also hitting other parts of Massachusetts and New Hampshire at the same time.

These tornadoes were part of a weather system that had moved in from the Midwest. However, forecasters had only called for severe thunderstorms in Massachusetts, so residents were taken almost completely by surprise. Because of this disaster and others, as well as technological advances, today’s meteorological warning systems are much more robust.

Worcester Telegram and Evening Gazette special edition, 18 June 1953 — *Worcester* *Telegram and Evening Gazette* special edition, 18 June 1953

Nine days after the tornado, the Worcester Telegram and Evening Gazette issued a special edition dedicated to the storm, headlined in capital letters: “TORNADO.” This item is also part of the MHS collections. The paper contains 40 pages of pictures of the destruction, as well as horrifying personal stories. For example, a two-week-old infant named Charles C. Oslund of Holden, Mass. was killed when he was literally torn from his mother’s arms by the winds.

The Fujita scale by which we categorize tornadoes today was not introduced until 1971. Looking at the data, meteorologists have retroactively categorized the Worcester tornado as an F4, though it is generally believed to have reached F5 intensity in some locations.

See the MHS website for more of Schroeder’s striking images. The Worcester Historical Museum has also posted some terrific 1953 newsreel footage showing the extensive damage and clean-up efforts in the wake of the storm.

Posted in From Our Collections

“My sense of duty leads me to support the administration”: John Quincy Adams as Senator and Professor, 1801–1809

March 16, 2022

By Neal Millikan, Series Editor for Digital Editions, The Adams Papers

Transcriptions of more than 500 pages of John Quincy Adams’s diary have just been added to the John Quincy Adams Digital Diary, a born-digital edition of the Adams Papers editorial project at the Massachusetts Historical Society. The new material spans the period September 1801 through July 1809 and chronicles Adams’s experiences as a senator in Washington, D.C., and a professor at Harvard.

John Quincy Adams was selected to be a member of the U.S. Senate in February 1803, elected to the position by a Massachusetts legislature controlled by the Federalist Party. Taking his seat in October, Adams charted an independent political course, voting on issues as he believed they related to the national good and not simply to Federalist interests. This was most obvious when he voted for the embargo in December 1807, which sought to punish France and Great Britain for their punitive trade restrictions by prohibiting U.S. vessels from trading with European nations.

By supporting the embargo, Adams in effect voted against the Federalist Party, whose New England contingent relied heavily on merchant shipping for their economic livelihood. He was also supporting the policy of President Thomas Jefferson, his father John Adams’s political adversary. Jefferson, who had defeated the senior Adams in the presidential election of 1800, was the leader of the opposition party, the Democratic-Republicans. After the embargo vote, John Quincy recorded his reasoning in his diary: “On most of the great national questions now under discussion, my sense of duty leads me to support the administration, and I find myself of course in opposition to the federalists in general.” He went on, however, to clarify that he had “no Communication with the President other than that in the regular order of business in Senate.” Indeed, Adams recognized that owing to his personal stances on the main issues of the day, “my political prospects are declining.”

As his political career floundered during this period, his personal finances also received a setback due to the 1803 failure of London bankers Bird, Savage, and Bird. While this failure negatively impacted John Quincy’s savings, he was more worried about his parents, John and Abigail Adams, for whom he had heavily invested with Bird, Savage, and Bird, the funds planned for their retirement. To help protect his mother and father from financial ruin, John Quincy sold his personal property and practiced extreme personal economy. He moved his family out of their Boston home and back in to the small house in Quincy, Massachusetts, where he had been born. He recounted these actions in his diary, noting that while “I have practiced all the economy I thought practicable” he found to have “needed still more.”

Drawing of John Adams and John Quincy Adams birthplaces by Eliza Susan Quincy — Birthplaces of John Adams and John Quincy Adams, watercolor drawing by Eliza Susan Quincy, 1822

There were, however, some bright spots for John Quincy Adams during these years. He and his wife, Louisa Catherine Adams, and eldest son, George Washington Adams, welcomed two additional children into their family: John Adams was born on 4 July 1803 and Charles Francis Adams on 18 August 1807. He also enjoyed his tenure as the Boylston Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory, a position to which he was elected by the Corporation of Harvard University on 24 June 1805. He spent significant time researching and writing thirty-six lectures, delivering the first one on his thirty-ninth birthday, 11 July 1806. After that lecture, he proudly recorded in his diary that it “was well received, and could I hope that the issue of the whole course would but bear a proportion to the effect of this introduction, I should be fully satisfied.” The lectures were published in 1810.

For more on his life in this period, read the headnote, or, navigate to the entries to begin reading his diary. With this release, transcriptions of forty years of John Quincy Adams’s diary, from 1789 to 1829, are now freely available on the MHS website. In addition, the side-by-side viewer tool allows users to access images of the over 5,700 diary manuscript pages that accompany these transcriptions.

The Adams Papers editorial project at the Massachusetts Historical Society gratefully acknowledges the generous support of our sponsors. Major funding for the John Quincy Adams Digital Diary was provided by the Amelia Peabody Charitable Fund, with additional contributions by Harvard University Press and a number of private donors. The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation in partnership with the National Historical Publications and Records Commission also support the project through funding for the Society’s Primary Source Cooperative.

Posted in From Our Collections, MHS News Tagged Adams Papers

“‘The Unhappy and Unparalled Defeat at Penobscott,’ and the entanglement of Machias and Bagaduce”

January 21, 2022

By Darcy Stevens, Phd student, University of Maine, 2020 Society of the Cincinnati short-term fellow

“This native Kansan is going to the Birthplace of the American Revolution!” That was my first thought after I processed the feeling of honor of being named a Society of the Cincinnati fellow. I envisioned long satisfying days in the Massachusetts Historical Society archives then evenings exploring historic Boston. I’d snap selfies in front of Faneuil Hall and the Old North Church. I’d tour the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum, and maybe catch a ball game at Fenway (I’m not all nerd). At the end of my fellowship, I would have material for great articles and personal stories alike!

It was not meant to be. Like the rest of the country, I spent most of the last 14 months working from home. There would be no Boston, but thanks to the work of the amazing staff at MHS and technology my fellowship research could move forward remotely.

Readers will have guessed that I study the American Revolution. Specifically, I examine allegiance and neutrality in the Borderlands of Maine – Nova Scotia. My interest is in revealing how inhabitants navigated the contentious social landscape during this period. The Borderlands was home to Loyalists, Patriots, and Neutrals, soldiers and militiamen, Indigenous leaders and politicians. Their interwoven stories illustrate the complexity of living surrounded by friends and foes in wartime.

This was true for the inhabitants of Bagaduce (now Castine). When the British arrived in 1779 there were very few settlers. Patriot forces launched the Penobscot Expedition to rout the British, were soundly defeated, and the British held the region for the remainder of the war. In just a few months the handful the previously isolated settlers were surrounded by Loyalists from distance places, British, Scottish, and German soldiers, and their families. Their lives would become entangled and interdependent. There is much yet to uncover about Bagaduce and I am excited to discover what it will reveal.

While Bagaduce has received most of my attention so far, I have also spent some time examining Colonel John Allan. A Nova Scotian Patriot, Allan commanded the American forces at Machias and was superintendent of the Eastern Indians. In the latter role he worked tirelessly to secure an allegiance with the Wabanaki. He was convinced that without their support, or at least their neutrality Maine would fall to the enemy. His letters give the impression of a self-confident, almost brazen man, who wasted no time on deference and flowery composition. He was busy; he cut to the chase and didn’t sugar-coat the facts. I think Allan and I would have gotten along famously.

The MHS holds a collection of John Allan’s papers and since receiving digital copies I have spent many happy hours poring over them. During my research on Bagaduce and the Penobscot Expedition I had not come across Allan. So, I was pleasantly surprised to find a letter he wrote about the event. Allan reported he received a request from General Solomon Lovell, at Bagaduce calling for reinforcements on 1 August. Allan then detailed the many reasons he was not ready to sail for another nine days. On the same day he received a second message from Lovell asking him to “proceed with all Expiditon & bring as many of the Militia as Could be spared” Allan learned of British ships in the much closer Passamaquoddy Bay.[1] Yet, he delayed his departure for another four days, until he learned those British ships were only trade vessels. Still fearful of an attack on Machias when he finally set out for Bagaduce he took only one hundred men. This was two full weeks after Lovell’s first request. On the fourth day of travel Allan sees great billows of smoke, suspects the settlements were burning, decided he did not have enough men or provisions, and turned back for Machias. Meanwhile, Lovell’s papers are replete with his optimism that Allan was on the way. Lovell wrote that on 13 August he “every moment expected a reinforcement by Colonel Allan.”[2] But that was the day British reinforcements arrived. Allan still had not left Machias. The next day the last of the Patriot ships were captured or scuttled and the remaining troops went scurrying through the Maine wilderness.

Perhaps the loss was inevitable. The British had a vastly superior navy. Still, reading Lovell’s account next to Allan’s makes me wonder. We will never know. What we do know is that Allan felt no responsibility. In fact, he was decidedly put out by the loss, as if the affair was a major inconvenience for him. He opens his letter to the President of the Massachusetts Council by writing:

The Unhappy and Unparalled Defeat at Penobscott, has put this Department in a most Critical & Dangerous Situation, such as Requires the Vigelant attention for its Preservation—The Various objects I am Compelled to Turn my thoughts & Time to, will prevent my being so Explicite in my Communicating Matters as I would wish.

He goes on to complain of the effect the defeat had on the relationship with the Wabanaki.

The Dishonorable Flight (permit the Expression without Censure from a feeling of Mortification for the Disgrace brough on the Arms of our Country) of the Americans on the Penobscot River has given a wound to our Indian Affairs.[3]

Well, I said he was brazen.

Given the amount of work Allan put into wooing the Wabanaki, his complaint seems fair. What struck me, aside from his caustic statements, was the extent to which Bagaduce and Machias were entangled. At Bagaduce original settlers, loyalists, and British troops lived, worked, and socialized together. Their lives were obviously entwined. The same was true for the inhabitants and Patriot soldiers at Machias. Allan’s letter revealed how interconnected these disparate and distance communities were to one another and with the Indigenous communities of the region. This is an important point that I had yet to consider.

I still believe a close examination of these small Borderlands communities will reveal a great deal about the social landscape of the American Revolution. But now I am more mindful of how distant and seemingly unrelated events will impact my Borderlands actors and their decisions about allegiance and neutrality.

[1] John Allan to Jeremiah Powell, President of the Council of the State of Massachusetts Bay. September 10, 1779, Machias. John Allan Papers, Massachusetts Historical Society Collection.

[2] “Addendum To General Lovell’s Letter to Massachusetts Council.” Sept. 3.1779. As printed in General Solomon Lovell and The Penobscot Expedition, 1779. By Chester B. Kevitt. Weymouth MA: Weymouth Historical Commission, 1796. 120.

[3] Allan to Powell

Posted in From Our Collections, Research fellow

May is Mental Health Awareness Month

May 28, 2021

By Hannah Elder, Reproductions Coordinator

Content warning: this post includes discussion of mental health, including instances of historic language regarding mental health that is outdated.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. According to the National Alliance on Mental Health (NAMI), 1 in 5 adults in the United States experience mental illness each year.[1] As we emerge from 15 months of pandemic-induced stress, fear, grief, and isolation, that number is bound to be even higher this year. Mental illness is not a new or modern phenomenon; throughout history, people have lived with mental illness, seeking support and treatment where they could. The MHS collections include references to mental health and mental illness spanning hundreds of years. These references include the personal papers of those experiencing mental illness or those caring for loved ones experiencing mental illness, the records of individuals and institutions advocating for better mental health care, and the papers of physicians and organizations who treated people with mental illnesses.

Transcribed below are just two examples of records discussing mental health and mental illness from the MHS collection.

Letters to Dr. Abiel Heywood

D Patton to Dr. Abiel Heywood,, 8 June 1828

Boston June 8^th 1828

Dear Sir,

By particular request I am induct to drop a few lines to you, (although unknown in person) to solicit your attention to the case of Mrs. Barron who is very much afflicted with ill health in her own person, with which are intimately connected poverty and want in a great degree. (almost entirely dependant for a long time on charities from different sources) but another trouble and that not the easiest to be managed is the derangement of Mind of her Daughter Nancy, (of which I suppose you are not altogether unacquainted,) which of late has become much worse, and renders it nesesary that something should be done for their relief immediately: she states that she has been under the necessity of borrowing money to pay one quarters rent of her room, and another is almost here that she has not heard from you for five months; although you gave encouragement of affording some relief if it is within you province on behalf of the town of Concord to do any thing you are desired to let her know what she can depend on as soon as it is convenient or application must be made to some other source. Yours truly — D Patten

This is one of two letters written to Dr. Abiel Heywood by or on behalf of Rebecca and Nancy Barron in 1827 and 1828. The first letter, written by Rebecca Barron, describes their ill health and poverty and asks Heywood for help in paying their rent.

Mathew Carey to Isaiah Thomas in the Foster family autograph collection

Mathew Carey to Isaiah Thomas, 5 October 1826

Isaiah Thomas, Esq

Dear Sir

Your favor of the 1^st I read yesterday

After advertising for two weeks in vain, Miss Aitken’s sister heard of the advertisement and called on me a few days hence, then I handed her you letter, which she opened in my presence, + which I found contained fifteen dollars. She appeared very grateful.

Miss Aitkens has not been from home for, I think, ten years. Her mind, I understand, is somewhat deranged.

Very respectfully

Your obedient servant

Mathew Carey

Philadelphia Oct. 5 1826

Jane Aitken was a publisher and book binder from Philadelphia. Little is known about the last decades of her life, when this letter was written.

These are just two of the individuals represented in our collections who grappled with mental illness. To continue research into mental health and mental illness, consider these collections:

If you are struggling with your mental health, please seek support.

Crisis text line: text HOME to 741741
The NAMI Helpline: 800-950-NAMI (800-950-6264)
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 800-273-8255

[1] “Mental Health By the Numbers,” NAMI, https://www.nami.org/mhstats.

Posted in From Our Collections

Daily History: Transcribing JQA’s Diary

May 26, 2021

By Alyssa Machajewski, Adams Papers Intern

John Adams once suggested to his son, an 11-year-old John Quincy Adams, that he start a journal to record the events of his life. Displaying a level of discipline that must surely be genetic, John Quincy followed his father’s advice consistently for over 68 years. He kept multiple diaries, including a line-a-day version that consists of a single-line summary of each day.

Because of his busy schedule, John Quincy Adams would record this brief summary and then later write out the long-form entry using the line-a-day as reference. I can sympathize with how difficult it would be to keep up with, as I took up bullet journaling only last year (which has a similar organizational idea as JQA’s diary) and I find it exhausting.

Part of my internship experience with the Adams Papers editorial project is to help transcribe some of the 15,000+ pages of JQA’s diary. Luckily, JQA has exceptionally neat handwriting (as long as you can read cursive) and the work is really more like a puzzle that needs solving.

When I first started transcribing the diary, this puzzle was my main interest. I never expected to have anything in common with the journal content or the man behind it. I knew John Quincy Adams as a career politician, the son of a Founding Father, and a president. Surely, his daily life looked nothing like mine, but then I reached about halfway down the line-a-day diary entries for January 1795.

JQA diary — John Quincy Adams diary detail, January 1795

And I laughed; 227 years after writing it, John Quincy Adams made someone laugh. I transcribed this passage in February 2021, just as I and the rest of my home state of Texas were experiencing the coldest winter in living memory. That serendipity changed how I saw the person behind the lines of cursive. JQA became more than a distant historical figure. He was more human somehow—someone who complained about the cold.

We have our obvious differences. I am a recent college graduate and, at the time, he was the U.S. minister to the Netherlands. He lived through an invasion by the French, while I’m living through a global pandemic. However, there were parts of his life that were not difficult at all to relate to. JQA goes on walks (2 March 1795). He sometimes struggles with “Laborious and unsuccessful writing” otherwise known as writer’s block.

He gets anxious when people don’t answer his letters. And, every two months or so, he buys books (I’m jealous of this frequency!) and will sometimes make a note of what he’s finished reading: “Read the private life of the Marechal de Richelieu; and Voltaire” (22 April 1795). Although we have vastly different bookshelves, I love that buying books is still worthy of a diary entry. “Attended the sale of books the whole day, purchased a considerable number. Walk in the Evening alone. Music at home.” I wonder if he’s ever slightly embarrassed that he has gone and bought more books when he knows perfectly well he has a stack of unread ones at home. Still, I can’t help but imagine him grinning as he walks down the streets of The Hague with his armful of books. It is exactly what I would do.

In the six-month span that I have transcribed so far, I can see the skills that led him to be known as a diplomatic president. He negotiated for the release of an acquaintance and French prisoner of war (14 July 1795). He also “disallowed” (i.e. kicked out) French soldiers from his house when they tried to forcibly quarter there (11 March 1795). It is the sort of thing the U.S. Constitution frowns upon and I would like to have been present for that conversation. His diary recorded the following:

The municipality this morning sent a couple of french soldiers to quarter in the house of Mr: Jehu where I am lodged. They have tried the experiment three or four times; and as often the french Commandant of the City upon my application has ordered them to allow the exemption to which the usage of Nations entitles me.

And of course he also noted important historical events, such as on 17 May 1795: “Weather beautiful. Morning and evening walks . . . The Treaty with France signed at 2. AM.”

Working through the diary now feels less like a puzzle and more like a story and a life unfolding. How lucky that we get the chance to see it. To start your own search, visit the John Quincy Adams Digital Diary!

Posted in From Our Collections Tagged Adams Papers 3 Comments

A Look at 19th Century Perfumes

May 26, 2021

By Angela Tillapaugh, Library Assistant

While exploring the collections of the MHS I came across a hand-blown glass perfume vial from the 19th century owned by Martha Catherine Codman Karolik. Upon seeing this, a question popped in my head- what kind of perfume would she have worn? I set out to discover what the most popular perfumes were in the late 19th century, that as a wealthy woman she would have likely been familiar with.

Prior to the mid to late 1800s in the United States, fragrances usually came in the form of “toilet waters”. Toilet waters were single note fragrances, diluted with distilled water or alcohol. These sorts of fragrances were usually sold in pharmacies, as fragrant oils were frequently added to cosmetics and medications.[1] Around the end of the 19th century, perfume from fragrance houses in Europe were imported to the United States. In Europe, France most notably, fragrance was considered an art form and a luxury product that was not relegated to being sold within pharmacies. The perfumes were heavier and more complex than the toilet waters, most using animalic ingredients like musk and ambergris that made them much more expensive. The influence of perfumes from overseas led to the emergence of American perfumers, usually with European names to capitalize on the association between Europe and luxury perfumes. An example is E.W. Hoyt of Lowell, who called his first perfume “Hoyt’s German Cologne” even though nothing about it was German. Other perfumers created a sense of luxury by creating increasingly elaborate bottles to house the fragrances, some bottles were worth more than the actual liquid.

Glass vial of lavender water — Willis H. Lowe, Lavender Water, ca. 1889. From the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History.

The luxury status of perfumes, particularly those from France, made them popular with the wealthy. Wearing expensive perfumes would set people apart from the masses wearing light floral fragrances. As a young wealthy woman, Martha Catherine Codman Karolik likely would have been able to own these extravagant fragrances, which is what I imagine the vial above would have contained. I do not know exactly what perfume Martha would have carried in that small vial, but I imagine it was something powerful and interesting, sure to turn heads.

[1] “Fragrance.” Smithsonian Institution. Accessed May 10, 2021

Posted in From Our Collections

Celebrating Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month

May 21, 2021

By Rakashi Chand, Senior Library Assistant

May is Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) Heritage Month. Massachusetts played an interesting role in many of the first relationships and cultural exchanges between the US and Asia and the Pacific Islands. Some of these relationships were mutually fruitful while others favored American interests. After the American Revolution, ships from the ports of Boston and Salem sailed across the globe, many entering ports for the first time flying the new and unknown American flag. What these captains and merchants did upon arrival set the tone to cultivate relationships not only with Massachusetts but also for the US–in both good and bad ways. Representatives of the United States entered these negotiations with the intention of establishing trade routes, opening markets, and securing the US as a global player.

The MHS is fortunate to hold treaties, medals, letters, and artifacts documenting trade routes as well as Asian and Pacific Islanders visiting Boston, many seeing the US for the very first time. Though the narrative found in the archives is often told by white Americans, there are some Asian American and Pacific Islander voices.

Below is a selection of artifacts and documents in our collection that illuminate AAPI history.

China

This oil painting of the harbor at Hong Kong is attributed to Lam Qua, a 19th-century artist from the Canton province in China. Also known for his portraits of Western and Chinese merchants, as well as medical subjects, Lam Qua was one of the first Chinese painters exhibited in the West. For further reading about this painting and a companion view of the Harbor of Macao, visit www.masshist.org/database/2277.

view of the Hong Kong Harbor — Harbor at Hong Kong, attributed to Lam Qua, [1850s]

John B Trott, an agent for John D. Sword & Company in China during the 1840s, gave the MHS a beautifully detailed manuscript map of China with a Star Chart on top. The combination of the celestial and physical worlds on one map provides wonderful perspective. He also donated The Foreign and Chinese almanac for 1844, Primer of the Shanghai dialect, two copies of the Treaty of Tien Jin, along with other Chinses pamphlets.

There are many collections that center on trade with China housed at the MHS. A description of these collections can be found in the Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Manuscripts on the American China Trade at the Massachusetts Historical Society on JSTOR, and many of these items have been digitized and are searchable from home through the online database China, America and the Pacific, a publication of Adam Matthew Digital, Inc.

Japan

After Commodore Matthew Perry’s Mission of Peace and Goodwill opened commerce with Japan, an Embassy or mission lead by Iwakura Tomomi visited Europe and America to improve the unequal terms given to Japan by Western countries and to learn about the West. In 1872 Boston, the Boston Board of Trade hosted a lavish banquet at the Revere House with speakers including Ralph Waldo Emerson and Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes. The latter composed a poem for the occasion that begins with the line, “We welcome you, Lords of the Land of the Sun!” Take a look at a lovely dinner menu from the grand affair and read more here: MHS Collections Online: Banquet to the Ambassadors of Japan, by Members of the Boston Board of Trade: Bill of Fare.

menu for a farewell dinner held 2 August 1872 — Banquet to the Ambassadors of Japan, by Members of the Boston Board of Trade: Bill of Fare, broadside on silk, 2 August 1872.

This, along with many other items on the relationship between Japan and America can be found in our online catalog Abigail. At the time of the banquet there were only an estimated ten men of Japanese origin living in Boston.

By 19 February 1942, President Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066 placing more than 110,000 Japanese-Americans in “Protective Custody” in Internment Camps. Artist Estelle Ishigo documented the hardship of life in the Internment Camps in paintings such as one titled “Mess Hall, Bathroom, Barracks, Japanese Relocation Center, Heart Mt. Wyoming”. Read more about Estelle Ishigo and the Internment Camps: Massachusetts Historical Society: “We searched its gaunt face for the mysteries of our destiny …”: Estelle Ishigo’s Scenes of a Japanese Internment Camp.

Painting of Heart Mountain, Wyoming — “Mess Hall, Bathroom, Barracks. Japanese Relocation Center. Heart Mt. Wyoming.” by Estelle Ishigo, March 1943, 7 P.M.

India

Although American trade with India preceded the Revolution, it was formalized when George Washington sent Bostonian Benjamin Joy as the first US Council to India in 1794. The British East India Company refused to recognize his status. The MHS holds a fascinating object from that exchange, a Sea Chest, made in India, that accompanied Joy on his voyage back home. Read more about Joy and the Sea Chest here: MHS Collections Online: Sea chest belonging to Benjamin Joy.

Sea chest belonging to Benjamin Joy, circa 1795.

The MHS also houses the Papers of the American Ramabai Association, a charitable organization that helped fund two home for widows in India. The papers are found in two collections and include correspondence both to and from India and America: the Judith Walker Andrews correspondence, 1887-1911 and the Daniel Dulany Addison Collection.

Another fascinating item in the collection is a biography by Caroline Healey Dall. The Life of Ananabai Joshee: A Kinswoman of Pundita Ramabai (Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1888) is about the life of the first Indian women to come to America for the purpose of attending medical School.

There are many items in our collection that illustrate trade and cultural exchange between India and Massachusetts. You can search our online catalog Abigail and read past blog posts: Happy Diwali! and Boston to Bombay*: Historical Connections between Massachusetts and India.

Pacific Islands, specifically Hawai’i

The Pacific Islands were still subject to colonialism by US and European ships into the late 19th century. The arrival of missionaries and merchants endangered the survival of the culture of the Islands. Pamphlets debating the annexation of Hawaii (along with Chinese Immigration in 1878) can be found in the Papers of Congressman George Frisbie Hoar.

This engraving of Hilo, Hawaii was made by Kepohani from a drawing by Edward Bailey. Lorrin Andrews successfully created a copper plate printing press in Lahainaluna, and printed the first Hawaiian Language newspaper in 1834. Read more about Andrews, the Hawaiian engravers, and the Lahainaluna Seminary here: MHS Collections Online: Hilo, Hawaii.

In 1875, the last king of Hawai’i, Kalakaua, visited Boston on a tour of good will to negotiate tarrif-free trade between the Kingdom of Hawai’I and the United States. The visit was strategic as New England sugar interest was at stake. The banquet held on 2 January 1875 was a success for Hawai’I and secured the Reciprocity Treaty of 1875. Read more about the King Kalakaua’s visit to Boston and view a beautiful bill of fare featured at the banquet in this blogpost: King Kalakaua’s Tour of the United States.

These are just a few examples of items in our collection that illustrate the histories of Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders. Look for a companion blog post in the coming weeks that feature more primary sources to bring Asian American and Pacific Islander voices to light.

Posted in From Our Collections

The Diary of William Logan Rodman, Part V

May 18, 2021

By Susan Martin, Senior Processing Archivist

This is the fifth and final installment in a series on the diary of William Logan Rodman at the Massachusetts Historical Society. Click here to read Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part IV.

In the first four installments of this series on the diary of William Logan Rodman of New Bedford, Mass., I covered events between the election of Abraham Lincoln and the early months of the Civil War. Rodman’s diary ends in June 1862, before his war service, but later that year he was commissioned major and then lieutenant colonel of the 38th Massachusetts Infantry Regiment. He was killed at Port Hudson, La. on 27 May 1863.

In this final installment of the series, I’d like to backtrack a little and look in detail at a few other fascinating subjects Rodman mentioned in his diary.

The Margaret Scott Case

On 15 September 1861, Rodman was summoned before a grand jury to testify in the case of the Margaret Scott, a ship allegedly engaged in the trafficking of enslaved Africans to the U.S. He struck a defensive tone in his diary: “I sold her the water and was an Expert in the water question. My evidence was worth little. I knew nothing about the matter until the water was on board.”

Newspaper clipping from 9-12-1861 — Clipping from the *New Bedford Republican Standard*, 12 September 1861

The Margaret Scott had been confiscated at New Bedford a few days before and its captain, officers, and owner arrested. According to newspaper articles published at the time, ships loaded up with excessive amounts of water and dry crackers aroused suspicion, as this was recognized as the fare of enslaved people. Sailors got whiskey and bread.

The owner of the Margaret Scott, Samuel P. Skinner, was convicted and served time in jail, but Abraham Lincoln later pardoned him “on the ground that the party was used by the government as a witness, & testified fairly.” The ship, meanwhile, was sold and used as part of the Stone Fleet, a fleet of old ships filled with stone and sunk in Charleston Harbor in an attempt to block Confederate shipping channels.

Liberia and Haiti

While he waited for his military commission to come through, Rodman kept busy at home. On 10 November 1861, he was elected to the state legislature. One month later, he wrote,

Sent to Mr Eliot a Memorial which I have had numerously signed urging immediate recognition of Liberia and Hayti. […] This would lead to trade. Our City would engage in it and be relieved from the stagnation that now exists & threatens to increase. Africa presents an immense field for commercial enterprise and letting alone the moral effect of our cordially recognizing these Black Republics, too long delayed, our country will reap immense advantage from diplomatic & commercial relations, and no one of our sea ports would be found more fitted for a prosperous intercourse with Africa than New Bedford. We have capital Ships and just the right sort of men, now unemployed.

It’s clear that Rodman’s support for this policy was far from disinterested, but he does briefly reference the “moral” argument. The following year, the United States would, in fact, formally recognize the independence of Haiti and Liberia and establish diplomatic relations with both countries. It had been 58 years since the Haitian Revolution led by Toussaint L’Ouverture and 15 years since Liberia constituted itself a republic.

Toussaint L’Ouverture, Haitian revolutionary

The Great Charleston Fire

On 11 December 1861, a “fearful” and “terrible” fire ravaged Charleston, S.C. Almost immediately, rumors circulated that the fire had been started by enslaved people. Now, Rodman never made any secret of his particular hatred for South Carolina, given that it had been the first state to secede. He not only found these rumors credible, but he greeted them with overt schadenfreude, calling the fire

[…] a significant symptom. What horrors may yet visit those wicked authors of this our severest trial. […] A year ago our sympathies would have been excited and our purses opened to relieve. Now we are almost pleased and regard it as only one part of the retribution justly due from that center of rebellion.

Ft. Sumter and Charleston, SC during the Civil War, — Screenshot taken from *Ft. Sumter and Charleston, SC during the Civil War*, by Sydney Haskins, Digital Commons @Brockport, Spring 2017

According to the 2016 annual report of the Charleston Fire Department, the Great Charleston Fire of 1861 was the worst in the city’s history and resulted in $7,000,000 in damage. It swept across the breadth of the peninsula and was witnessed by none other than Robert E. Lee himself. My research indicates that there’s still no consensus on its cause.

As Rodman wrote, “Well we are in the midst of history now with a vengeance.”

William Logan Rodman died at the age of 41, survived by two sisters and several nieces and nephews. According to historian Earl Mulderink, he was “New Bedford’s most prominent casualty during the Civil War” (p. 77). The town’s Grand Army of the Republic (GAR) post and Fort Rodman at Clark’s Point were both named after him.

Select Bibliography

Higginson, Thomas Wentworth. “William Logan Rodman.” Harvard Memorial Biographies, vol. 1, Cambridge, Sever and Francis, 1866, pp. 64-78.
This biography includes excerpts from the diary, as well as Rodman’s later correspondence (which is not held by the MHS).

Jones, Charles Henry. Genealogy of the Rodman family, 1620-1886. Philadelphia, printed by Allen, Lane & Scott, 1886.

Mulderink, Earl F. New Bedford’s Civil War. Fordham University Press, 2012.

Rodman family papers, New Bedford Whaling Museum, New Bedford, Mass.

Posted in From Our Collections

Take an Armchair Vacation to the Freedom Trail!

May 10, 2021

By Heather Rockwood, Communications Associate

This past year, as we’ve been staying at home, the archives of historical societies have been delved for content for what is called “armchair vacations,” or travelling digitally. One of the bonuses of “travelling” this way is the ability to see places from a different time period, to see how they were originally used , how people wanted them to be used, or to see places before the buildings were there. I would like to take you on a tour of Boston’s Freedom Trail through the eyes of the Arthur Asahel Shurcliff Collection of Glass Lantern Slides. The Freedom Trail, created in 1951, is a unique collection of sites that tell the story of Boston’s role in the American Revolution and this year is the 70th anniversary of its creation! This collection of glass lantern slides does not contain all of the sites on the Freedom Trail, but it does have a majority.

Arthur Asahel Shurcliff and this collection of glass lantern slides has been written about before (see: Newly Digitized: the Arthur Asahel Shurcliff Collection of Glass Lantern Slides. That blog post goes over Shurcliff’s life, travels and work, over the collection’s breadth and depth of subject matter, and over the reasons for digitizing this particular collection.

This tour of the Freedom Trail is not only for those outside of Boston or Massachusetts but also for locals who may not have seen these historical photographs of the sites before. We’ll go in the order meant by the Freedom Trail map, starting with Boston Common and ending in Charlestown at the Bunker Hill Monument.

You will notice that the lantern slides that I picked mostly have people in view, like in the image of the Boston Common. I think it gives great perspective, information about the time the photograph was taken and reminds us that people lived and experienced the sites in the past. What I like about this particular view is that you can spy the Massachusetts State House in the background!

View of part of Boston Common, Boston, Lantern slide possibly taken by Arthur A. Shurcliff, circa 1914.

View of State House, Boston, lantern slide possibly taken by Arthur A. Shurcliff, circa 1910s.

I like the way these two pictures show how the Massachusetts State House is up on top of a hill.

View of Park Street, looking north towards State House, Boston, lantern slide possibly taken by Arthur A. Shurcliff, circa 1910s.

The horse-drawn carriages and the blurred image of people walking across the street makes this view of Park Street Church seem bustling!

View of Tremont Street looking south-west from King’s Chapel towards Park Street Church, Boston, lantern slide possibly taken by Arthur A. Shurcliff, circa 1910s.

The columns on the front of King’s Chapel are barely visible on the left side of the photograph. However, in this image you can also see the Park Street Church and how close these two religious buildings are to each other. In between the two is Granary Burying Ground, a site which Shurcliff had not collected or taken an image.

View of Washington Street, looking north from Franklin Street towards the Old South Meeting House, Boston, lantern slide possibly taken by Arthur A. Shurcliff, 1906.

I think this image is my favorite of this post. The Old South Meeting House looks lovely with the climbing ivy present on the building, but it also shows a trolley car going down Washington Street on the right and a street clock on the left. For comparison, I took an image from Google Maps of the present state of Washington Street facing the Old South Meeting House and the clock, although updated, is still in that same spot!

Present-day view down Washington Street towards the Old South Meeting House

View of Scollay Square, Boston, lantern slide possibly taken by Arthur A. Shurcliff, circa 1910s.

The Old State House is one of my favorite stops on the Freedom Trail and my favorite thing about the Old State House is the lion and unicorn statues on the east façade. In the view from Scollay Square, it may be difficult to make out, but the unicorn statue is just visible, and on the engraving of the Boston Massacre site, the lion and unicorn do not appear. That is because the statues were ripped down the day the Declaration of Independence was read from the balcony of the Old State House in 1776 and burned in a bonfire. The replicas were not put onto the building until 1882 when a restoration project brought the building back to its “colonial appearance.” Read more about the lion and unicorn statues, and the time capsule found there in 2014 in On King Street, the blog of the Bostonian Society.

View of Adams Square and Dock Square, looking north-east towards Faneuil Hall, Boston, lantern slide possibly taken by Arthur A. Shurcliff, 19th century.

This 19^th century view of Faneuil Hall is extremely interesting, mostly because the streetscape and buildings, besides the Hall, have completely changed. The person who took this photograph would have stood in Adams Square, which no longer exists. Present day Adams Square is part of Government Center. There are trolley tracks that travel behind a statue, the trolley probably would have travelled from nearby Scollay Square, and the Old State House would have been off camera to the right.

View of Hull Street, with Old North Church in background, Boston, lantern slide possibly taken by Arthur A. Shurcliff, 19th century(?).

This image of Old North Church may give you an idea of why the lanterns hung in the belfry, or bell tower, could be seen from far away as it is taller than the surrounding buildings.

City of Boston, Park Department: Proposed Mall Connecting Chelsea Street and Bunker Hill Monument, Charlestown, Mass., lantern slide of drawing drawn by Arthur A. Shurcliff, circa 1920s.

Although Shurcliff did not have any photographs of the Bunker Hill Monument, he did design a landscaped park which would have connected the monument to the present day location of the USS Constitution Museum and Park created in 1792. Although this connecting park was never created, it is interesting to see how a landscape designer thought to improve the site.

I hope you enjoyed taking this short “armchair vacation” down the Freedom Trail with me! If you want to see how lantern glass slides work, Brown University has a great guide!

Further reading within The Beehive on the Arthur Asahel Collection of Glass Lantern Slides:

“A Photographic History of Boston’s Back Bay Neighborhood”

“From Fenways Past”

Posted in From Our Collections

The Beehive. The Official Blog of the MHS.

Massachusetts Historical Society. Founded 1791.

Marian “Clover” Hooper Adams, Dog Portraitist?

The Great Worcester Tornado of 1953

“My sense of duty leads me to support the administration”: John Quincy Adams as Senator and Professor, 1801–1809

“‘The Unhappy and Unparalled Defeat at Penobscott,’ and the entanglement of Machias and Bagaduce”

May is Mental Health Awareness Month

Daily History: Transcribing JQA’s Diary

A Look at 19th Century Perfumes

Celebrating Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month

The Diary of William Logan Rodman, Part V

Take an Armchair Vacation to the Freedom Trail!