I can imagine the 18th century historian Thomas Prince turning over the pages of the recently printed Elijah’s Mantle (1722), and wondering if the editors and printers got it right. As a college student Prince had taken an interest in the history of New England and decided he wanted to begin preserving old documents.[1] He now pulled out the original manuscript, a sermon from his grandfather’s generation by the Cambridge pastor Jonathan Mitchell. On comparing the two he must have been surprised at how far the printed version departed from the original. And so Prince decided to fill in the margins with the exact language of the manuscript, now lost. In doing so he preserved the full force of Mitchell’s language about Christ’s kingly government, a way of expressing constitutional resistance to arbitrary rule.
Thomas Prince’s copy of Elijah’s Mantle
As I opened Prince’s copy of Elijah’s Mantle in the Massachusetts Historical Society reading room I was first disappointed that the edges had been cut off by an over-industrious nineteenth-century re-binder. But then I looked more closely at the neat blockish handwriting scattered on the pages of the text, most of which had avoided the knife. The ownership signatures indicated the book had belonged to Thomas Prince, Thomas Prince Jr., and Mercy Prince. At the suggestion of Peter Drummey, the Stephen T. Riley Librarian at the MHS, I spent some time going through Prince Sr.’s own papers to confirm the writing was indeed his. And then I started to use Prince’s annotations as a source for re-assessing Mitchell’s role in the resistance movement of the early Restoration.
Signatures indicate the book belonged to Thomas Prince, Thomas Prince Jr., and Mercy Prince
Jonathan Mitchell died young, but he was one of the most compelling preachers of his day. He had given the sermon extracted for Elijah’s Mantle, called “The Great End and Interest of New-England,” in December of 1662, at a moment when New Englanders were reeling from news of the Act of Uniformity, English legislation that took political rights and freedom of worship away from nonconformists (non-Anglicans) in England. They had also just received a letter from the restored English king Charles II that demanded they redesign their government to benefit wealthy Anglicans. Mitchell was already an intriguing figure for several reasons. First, the magistrate Daniel Gookin, when describing how people mobilized to defy the king in the 1660s, had written, “I remember that eminent Mr. Mitchel, now in heaven . . . speaking of Christ’s Kingly Government upon a civil Acc[oun]t” as one of the most important rationales for constitutional resistance. Second, Mitchell had helped to draft a 1664 letter to the king which explained why the Stuart government’s demands violated their charter liberties, the very reasons men and women had come to New England.
Prince’s annotations on Mitchell’s sermon recovered a stronger version of his words, which the printed edition had tamed down. For example, while the printed version, referring to the feared imposition of Church of England ceremonies, said “to Go backward unto those Things which we knew, have openly Testified…to be not of GOD, and which we departed from, will be such a Wickedness as the Lord’s JEALOUSY will not bear withal,” Prince added from the manuscript: “& Hence for our Civil Government to put forth any act of Consent thereto would be a Thing to be Trembled at.” That this was an important line is confirmed by John Higginson’s quote in his 1663 election sermon: “And for our Civil Government to put forth any act of consent unto either of the former, would be a thing to be trembled at, and Prayed against, that the Lord would keep them from.”[2] In the case of any attempt by England to extend the Act of Uniformity to the colonies, the Massachusetts General Court should hold its ground.
Example of Thomas Prince’s annotations on Jonathan Mitchell’s sermon
Mitchell’s 1662 language provides essential context for the 1664-1665 petition campaigns, when colonists in at least a dozen towns pledged support for the Massachusetts government in its decision to resist the demands of the new regime. From studying the extant town petitions, I had realized that the 1664 petition from Cambridge – Mitchell’s hometown – was probably the first. Colonists had many reasons to oppose any English move toward arbitrary rule, and they were not the only ones to do so. But Mitchell’s understanding of the liberties of self-government as instituted by Christ as well as by the king provided one colonial language for resistance, the stronger version of which has been preserved both by Prince and the MHS.
People were publicly spreading their political ideologies long before the days of social media. For Sarah Winnemucca, a public presence was a key element of her political agenda. Winnemucca, a Northern Paiute woman and daughter of Chief Winnemucca, holds a complex spot in the history of the United States. In part, she took to the written word, publishing a book titled Life Among Piutes: Their Wrongs and Claims, which is in the Society’s collection. The autobiographical work is a deft account of the history of her family and culture, including the agonies of white settlement. Winnemucca was well connected to contemporaries who were engaged in their own campaigns for change. Most notably, she was connected to Horace Mann, his second wife, Mary Peabody Mann, and her sister and fellow education reformer, Elizabeth Peabody. It is through these connections that she was able to share her struggle with a larger audience.
Elizabeth Peabody’s letter to Dr. Lyman Abbot, Sarah Winnemucca’s practical solution of the Indian problem: a letter to Dr. Lyman Abbot of the ’Christian Union, is more of a booklet for a public audience than a letter—it even includes a postscript that refers to itself as a public document—to get support and funding for a school Winnemucca had started for Paiute children in Nevada. In advocating for Winnemucca’s school, Peabody cites Winnemucca’s Christian faith, private (as opposed to communal) land ownership and the fact that the children were to be taught in English as well as Paiute. Winnemucca’s own writing plays into the American rhetoric of creating our own destiny. In an address quoted by Peabody, Winnemucca tells her peers “It will be your fault if [your children] grow up as you have”, saying that “a few years ago you owned this great country; today the white man owns it all and you own nothing.” She was clear that education was the best path forwards for the Paiute and Peabody’s writing gives us some insight into the type of education she offered at the school. There is a subtle impulse towards educational assimilation in the text: Peabody stated that not funding such a school as Winnemucca’s “prevents civilization” among the Paiute “by insulting that creative self-respect and cautious freedom to act.” Indeed, Winnemucca was an activist who felt that she needed to work within the framework of Euro-American systems. In an “Appeal for justice,” a circular in the MHS broadside collection, she states “My work must be done through Congress.”
At the same time, she willing to communicate the profound, harmful effect the processes of colonization had on her community. In the early 1880s, the Paiutes were struggling to have reservation lands, acknowledged in the 1860s and subsequently sold off, restored to the community. Winnemucca in particular held this battle for the Malheur Reservation close to her heart. In 1883, the year before Life Among Piutes was published she traveled to Boston where she met the Peabody sisters and Horace Mann. The Peabody sisters were the ones who pushed forward the publishing of her book. During her time in the Eastern United States, she gave public lectures discussing the injustices faced by her people. Her circular “Appeal for justice” mentioned above, was another way a garnering support, and to do so she made her public appeal an emotional one.
In the circular she states, “No door has been open to [the Paiute]; on the contrary, every arm has been raised against them” and that their reservation was “taken from us in the usual way.” In two paragraphs, she establishes her emotional appeal, urging people to seek justice with her. She explains that she is acting not on behalf of herself, but for her people and especially her father. Winnemucca makes her eastern audience aware of their power: “will you give my people a home? Not a place for this year, but a home forever? You can do it. Will you?” It is not until the second and much shorter paragraph that she gives information about the cession Malheur Reservation to the Paiute. Here, she informs her public that the reservation lands were sold against the wishes of her community, implying no community members were in a position to push back against the sale of the land. Still, while being more informative here she does not abandon the impassioned language from earlier in the circular. She states, “I want to test the right of the United States government to make and break treaties at pleasure.” She finishes by saying “Talk for me and help me talk, and all will be well.” On January 4, 1884, she went before Congress with a petition for the restoration of the Malhuer Reservation to the Paiute.
Unfortunately, the lands designated as the Malheur reservation would never be reacknowledged by the government as the Malheur reservation. Winnemucca’s declining health and funds prohibited her from keeping her school running, and she passed away in 1891. Though her work in these areas was not fully realized, Winnemucca was able to fashion a public voice that reached an elite and influential circle of Boston, made herself heard by the United States Congress, and translated her experience to be understood by a broad American public. Her legacy today is controversial and her complicated public advocacy resonates with contemporary debates. The questions of identity and representation are some of the most pressing of our time; the rhetoric of who belongs where is a common topic in popular and political media. Reading through Winnemucca’s “Appeal for justice” and Peabody’s letter offers a historical perspective.
Card in the folder with circular letter directing readers to sign and return to Mary Peabody Mann so that Winnemucca could present the signitures to Congress.
All of the excerpts and images in this post were taken from collections held at the MHS. You can visit our library to take a look at the originals.
by Susan Martin, Processing Archivist & EAD Coordinator
Have you ever wondered about the origins of the everyday technological devices that we take for granted today? How far back do these devices go? What did some of their earliest incarnations look like?
The newly processed papers of Charles Francis Adams give us an idea. You may recognize his name, but no, I’m not talking about the ambassador to the U.K. during the Civil War (CFA 1807-1886), the railroad executive and historian (CFA 1835-1915), or the Secretary of the Navy and yachtsman (CFA 1866-1954). He was, however, a member of the same illustrious family and a direct descendant of Presidents John and John Quincy Adams.
Our Charles Francis Adams (1910-1999) was, among other things, a Navy veteran, vice president of the Massachusetts Historical Society, and executive at Raytheon for many years. It’s this last role I’d like to highlight in this post. Raytheon, founded in 1922, has been headquartered in Cambridge, Newton, Lexington, and Waltham, Mass. Between 1947 and 1975, Adams served alternately as vice president, president, and chairman of the company.
Adams’ papers include 15 scrapbooks of newspaper clippings, photographs, and ephemera going back to 1920 that document much of the history of Raytheon. Adams’ tenure coincided with a period of explosive technological innovation, and while the company has become one of the country’s foremost military contractors, it was also involved in the development of a variety of commercial technological gadgets and home appliances in the post-World War II years. I want to focus on three devices: the microwave oven, the television, and the walkie-talkie.
On 20 May 1947, the Hotel Statler in Boston (now the Park Plaza Hotel) debuted a new appliance manufactured by Raytheon—the “Radarange.” It was about five feet high, stainless steel, and used a magnetron tube for cooking meals in a matter of seconds. That evening, an entire meal was prepared with this “radar cooking,” including “radar coffee.” According to a Boston Post article published the following day, “The Hotel Statler made epicurean history last night. […] It was the first time this has been done anywhere.”
Menu for “the first radar dinner,” Hotel Statler, 20 May 1947
The scrapbooks include some fun promotional photographs featuring the Radarange at the Statler and other Massachusetts locations, like the Aero Snack Bar, a lunch counter at the Norwood airport; White Tower Restaurant in Brookline Village; and United Farmers Dairy Store in Dorchester.
Statler kitchen with two Radaranges, taken by Avalon Studios, 1947 (Photo. #343.07)Aero Snack Bar with a Radarange, taken by Avalon Studios, 1947 (Photo. #343.08)
One article estimates that there were about 75 Radarange units in operation by early 1948, mostly in hotels and restaurants. The appliances were not sold, but leased to customers for $150 a month. They were also intended for trains, ships, and even planes. Radaranges were not ready for everyday home use yet—for one thing, they were too expensive to make and to service—but Adams saw the potential in the domestic market, and by the mid-1950s, the company was developing a smaller model for direct sale.
The chairman of the board of Hotels Statler Co., quoted in a press release, said that the Radarange “has a definite place in the preparation of quality food in quantity production. The cooking is not only fast, it is clean—there is no grease, smoke or odor. Our chefs, furthermore, are delighted because ‘Radarange’ produces no external heat, making the kitchen a more comfortable place in which to work.”
What was the public’s reaction to this new-fangled contraption? Tide magazine, a publication covering advertising, marketing, and public relations news, said the Radarange was the “most intriguing” of Raytheon’s new products (30 Jan. 1948). A reviewer, early the following year, called it a “spooky invention,” but was otherwise positive about it. Christian Science Monitor summed it up this way: “At first there was some opposition to radar ranges because of the revolutionary changes in cooking methods implicit in them. Some cooks were impatient of the new techniques and others expected too much” (1 Apr. 1954).
I, for one, love the idea of diners at a high-end restaurant ordering a microwave meal. In fact, the Statler reserved a special section on its daily menu for food prepared via Radarange.
Lobster in 2 ½ minutes, Hotel Statler, 15 May 1947
Television, on the other hand, had been around for a little while before Raytheon got in on the game. The company’s foray into the TV market wouldn’t last, but in the late 1940s, Raytheon and its subsidiary Belmont Radio Corporation were hyping their new model with features like a clearer picture, static-free sound, and a “snap-action station selector” (the channel dial, I assume). Prices of televisions advertised in Adams’ scrapbooks ranged from $200-$750. A store in Boston called the House of Television was selling a set that came in a mahogany cabinet with a AM/FM radio and a record player. It also boasted a “giant” circular screen…about 8.8 inches in diameter.
Advertisement for the Raytheon Belmont TV, 1949
Last but definitely not least, I stumbled across these terrific clippings from the Quincy Patriot Ledger and the Boston Globe dated 4 Feb. 1952.They showcase Raytheon’s new “handie-talkie” radio, “the lightest and most compact hand radio receiver-transmitter ever developed,” weighing in at a mere 6 ½ pounds and larger than a woman’s head.
Clippings promoting the new “handie-talkie,” 4 Feb. 1952
This radio, officially named the AN/PRC-6, was already proving useful to American troops in Korea. It could be submerged in water and withstand extreme temperatures, had a greater range and far more available frequencies than the previous version, and the 3 ½-pound battery lasted about 100 hours. As for its size, well, it was definitely an improvement over the 11-pound World War II “handie-talkie.” One writer astutely observed that this model was part of “the continuing miniaturization of communications equipment.” Imagine what they’d say about today’s hand-held devices.
All of the excerpts and images in this post were taken from the Charles Francis Adams scrapbooks here at the MHS. Click on any of the images above to see them larger. Or better yet, visit our library and take a look at the originals.
Today, we return to the diary of George Hyland. If this is your first time encountering our 2019 diary series, catch up by reading the January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, and September 1919 installments first!
October begins “cloudy and cold” with temperatures in the 40s and occasional overnight frost. George is still busy helping bring in the autumn harvest — during October he picks tomatoes, cauliflowers, apples, pears, lettuce, potatoes, corn, and tobacco plants. He also travels to Boston to put more money down on his liberty bonds and to Hingham to assist with a large estate auction. Some of the small details are the most charming: He feeds the sparrows at Rowe’s Wharf in Boston; dances the Mazurka (a Polish folk dance) with friends; he walks to Egypt Beach and has to wait out a sudden rainstorm on the veranda of a house near the shore. He once notes that the stars are small and hazy, a “sign of storm.” There tiny glimpses, too, of the way George’s life is connected to a wider world beyond the South Shore. One of his tobacco plants is shipped to Seattle, Washington; on his trip to Boston he sees one of “the new U.S. destroyers … large ship – 4 funnels.” At the train station he runs into a veteran “recently returned from the war” in Europe.
Join me in following George day-by-day through October 1919.
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Oct. 1. Worked 8 hours for E.F. Clapp – rode up with the horse and farm wagon. Had lunch at B. Brigg’s. Found me […]. Cloudy and cold in forenoon, W.N.W. aft. Clear, W.S.E. Eve. clear. tem. 40. Played on the guitar 1 hour in eve. Saw […] to-day.
2d. Worked 2 hours for E. Frank Clapp — on his farm in Norwell — Cloudy A.M., W.S. damp. Began to rain about 11:20 A.M. — light rain all
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day. Frost this A.M. Eve. clou. to misty. Played on the guitar 1h. 20m. in eve. I have a cold. With cough. 12 (mid.) thunder tempest W. of here.
3d. Fine weather, W.S.E. tem. 76. In aft. mowed, trimmed and raked lawn 1 1/4 hours for Russell Wilder — 50. Late in aft. picked up some boxes and other things for fuel — cut it up and housed it. Eve. cloudy — W.S.E. Played on the guitar 1h. 20m. in eve. I have a bad cold.
4th. Cloudy to par. clou. tem. 74. Played on the guitar 1 hour in eve. (Rain in eve.)
5th. (Sun.) Foggy and misty rain at times day and eve. Mr. James called here in forenoon — had job for me. Mr. S.T. Speare also called to see if I will mow his grass.
6th. Cloudy. Foggy A.M. warm N.S.W. rain all day — tem. 72. Went to the R.R. Station (opp. This house) early in eve. 5:40 P.M. Paul Briggs there — also [space left blank for name] of Norwell — recently returned from the war — is a French […] — was in 39th U.S. Inf. 4th Div. 2d […] in U.S. Army. They were waiting for the 6:19 P.M. tr. Eve. clear. Fine. Played on the guitar 1 h. 10 min. In eve.
7th. Worked 8 hours for E. Frank Clapp — on his farm in Norwell — [space left blank for amount owed]. Picked 10 bus. of ripe tomatoes, and helped E. F. C. harvest and pack 40 bus. of cauliflowers — Mrs. [space left blank for name] there — she cut and packed them. I brought them home with the horse, and they brought the tomatoes home in the auto. I got some bread at Fred Litchfield’s, and some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Fine weather. Clear nearly all day — W.W. in afternoon — N.W. late in aft. Windy. Air dry. Fine eve. Played on the guitar 1 h 10 min. in eve.
8th. Worked 8 hours for E.F. Clapp. [space left blank for amount owed]. Picking ripe and green tomatoes and helped E.F.C. and [space left blank for name] get a load of cauliflowers — 40 bus. They carried home the cauliflowers in the auto and I carried home the tomatoes with the horse and wagon. Ate my dinner at B. Briggs. Olive made some tea for me. A large automobile with members of the Bap. Church passed me in morning — when I was walking up to E.F. Clapp’s, and Fred T. Bailey drove the leading one — a large car (limousine) stopped and invited me to ride with them.
Cold A.M. W.N.N.W. wind S.E. after 5 P.M. S. later in eve bought some bread at F. Litchfield’s and some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Played on the guitar 1 h. 25 m. in eve.
9th. Worked 8 hours for E. Frank Clapp — picking tomatoes (ripe) — are worth $5.00 per bu. To-day went to the farm in Norwell with the horse and wagon. Frost this A.M. Very chilly wind — S.W. par. Clou. in aft. Began to rain when I arr. at E.F. Clapp’s (7 P.M.) and rained all eve. Warmer. Played the guitar 1 h. 10 min in eve. Carried my dinner — ate at B. Brigg’s. Bought bread at F. Litchfield’s and milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Light rain all night.
10th. Light rain early A.M. Forenoon clou. to par. Clou. Very warm in aft. — tem. To-day 66-80; W.W.S.W. Picked tomatoes for E.F. Clapp — in aft. — went to the farm late in forenoon with the horse and wagon — brought home 18 bus. Of tomatoes. Eve. par. Clou. W.N.W. bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Played on the guitar 1 h. 15 m. in eve. Worked 6 hours to-day for E.F. Clapp.
11th. Worked 6 hours for E.F. Clapp — picking tomatoes on the farm in Norwell. Brought them home with the horse and wagon. Hot weather — tem. 72-83; W.W.; clear to par. clou. Carried a light dinner. At it at B. Brigg’s — also had some of their dinner. Began to sprinkle — light rain about 3:30 P.M. W.N.W. E.F. Clapp and Mrs. [space left blank for name] came here in eve. And paid me for all work to date — 10 days, 5 hours — 25.50. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve. Rain late in eve. W.N.W.
12th. (Sun.) Clou. light rain at times in aft. W.M.E. Very cool. 11:30 A.M. clear. W.N.W.
Image from Frank Howard’s annual spring catalog of reliable “seeds that grow”, tools and machinery (1916).
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13th. Worked 4 hours for Mr. James — clearing out buildings and doing carpentry work. Fine weather, tem. About 35-65; W.N.W. and S.E. Cut down some of my tobacco plants — brought it home and drying it out in the woodhouse. Also picked some of the seeds. I have 50 large plants — raised them on the James place. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve.
14th. Went to Boston — on 9:15 A.M. tr. Paid the last instalment on the 5th Liberty Bond. (Victory Liberty Loan) Forenoon cloudy; W.W. rain all aft. W.S.E. bought some groceries at Cobb Bates store. Returned on Steamer “Betty Alden” to Pemberton, tr. to Nantasket Junction, then tr. to N. Scituate. Arr. 4 4 P.M. Light rain in eve. Saw the new U.S. Destroyers — “129” passed by her. Is large ship – 4 funnels. I gave the sparrows at Rowe’s Wharf some [bread] I give them some every time I go there. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve.
15th. In forenoon did some work at home — washing and etc. In aft. Worked 3 hours for Mason Litchfield — mowing lawn and trimming grass around the house — 65. Cloudy. Very damp. Warm. W.S.W. tem. 72. Played on the guitar 1 1/2 hours in eve.
16th. In forenoon worked 2 ½ hours for Mr. James — carpentering. In aft. worked 3 hours for J.H. Vinal — in the store and loading and unloading goods — 90. Late in aft. cut down all my tobacco plants (50 large plants) and brought them home and put them in the woodhouse — tied them up in bundles. Got some lettuice [sic] in my garden — gave some to Mrs. Mary [blank space left for name] J.H. Vinal and Mrs. Bertha Bates (nee Holson). Very warm weather, W.S.W. tem. 76 cloudy, light rain at times in aft. Eve. cloudy, warm. Played on the guitar 1 1/2 hours in eve. Heavy thunder tempest at 10 P.M. W. of here. Rain here, 10:45 tempest passed close by here — thunder at same time. 11 P.M. raining. Tempest about done. Gave Mrs. [space left for name] E. James Jr. one of my tobacco plants to send to Seattle, Wash. 11:15 P.M. tempest has passed to the S. of here — steady rain here.
17th. In aft. picked apples 3 hours for Mrs. Eudora Bailey — picked […] on a very large R.I. […] tree (3 barrels) Light rain in morning. W.N.W. aft. and eve. clear. Played the guitar 1 1/2 hours in eve.
18th. Worked 7 hours for Mrs. Eudora Bailey — mowing and trimming the grass on W.S. and N. sides of the house — also the bank, and picking pears. Put 3 barrels of apples and 2 bus. of pears into the cellar, and housed 1 cord of wood. 10 hours in all — 1.50. Mrs. B. gave me some of the pears (Burr, Bosc) and apples, also a piece of brown bread. Mr. James paid me 1.00 for work I have done for him (I did not charge much for what I did.) Very fine weather, W.N.W. in forenoon — S.E. in aft. Fine eve. Played on the guitar 1 1/2 hours in eve.
19th. (Sun.) Fine weather. In aft. (2:45 P.M.) went to Egypt Beach and N. Scituate Beach via Hatherly Road — ret. via Surfside road — got some sea moss. Walked all the way. arr. Home at 6 P.M. eve. Very cool. W.N. hazy.
20th. Dug potatoes 6 hours for Mrs. Bertie Barnes (nee Clapp) — 1.50. Had dinner there. Very cool; par. clou. to clear — W.N.E. Eve. cold. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve.
21st. Dug potatoes 6 1/2 hours for Mrs. Bertie Barnes — 1.50. Had dinner there. Par. clou. to clou. W.S.W. and S.E. arr. home at 2 P.M. began to rain about 7:15 P.M. Bought some milk at Mrs. Barnes’ — she gave me 2 qts. of buttermilk to take home. Played on the guitar 1 hour. 10 min. In eve. Rain all eve — light rain. Frost this A.M.
22d. Dug potatoes 6 hours for Mrs. Bertie Barnes — 1.50. Had dinner there. Fine weather — W.W. clear after 10:30 A.M. Eve. clear. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve.
23d. Worked 6 hours for Mrs. Bertie Barnes (fin. diging [sic] the potatoes in forenoon and harvested the corn and stalks and house them in aft. — 1.50. I had dinner there. Her daughter Mrs. Dorothy Wilder there to-day.
Image from Frank Howard’s annual spring catalog of reliable “seeds that grow”, tools and machinery (1916).
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Her two little granddaughters — Priscilla and [blank space left for name] with me most all the time — helping me. Mr. Israel is a cripple, and Mrs B. runs the farm. She sent me a pint of buttermilk in eve. Clou. to par clou. To-day; W.S. to S.E. damp eve. Cloudy. Raked and cocked up some hay for Mrs. M.G. Seaverns after dark — (15 min.) Played on the guitar 1 hour, 25 m. in eve. Met Mrs. Eva [blank space left for name] in Mrs. Seaverns’ store early in eve. She introduced me to her step-daughter, and invited me to call at their place at No. Scituate Beach.
24th. Cloudy; W.N.E.; tem. 50-55. In aft. went to Hingham — to Henrietta’s. Had dinner there — spent aft. There. Ret. on 5 P.M. tr. Saw Lottie (Mrs. Whiton) just as I was about to get aboard a car — she came from Boston on same tr. I came home on — she lives in Groton, opp. N London, Conn. and came on a visit to her mother’s (Henrietta.) Eve. cloudy, W.N.E. 10 P.M. Stars look very small — hazy — sign of storm. Played on the guitar 1 1/2 hours in eve.
25th. Went to Hingham Cen. Great auction at Henrietta’s — furniture, pictures, and many kinds of goods sold. I worked there at geting [sic] the things out of building and assisting in the auction. Ethel and I assorted [sic] the things, and I helped Arthur Whiting to move them. Had dinner and supper there. Lottie got the dinner and supper. Road about 1/2 way to Cohasset Sta. with James H. Merritt in auto-truck — had a load of vegetables, fruit, and etc. Then I walked nearly to N. Cohasset Sta. (3 miles) — then rode to Henrietta’s with Mrs. [blank space left for name] Hall in her auto. Mrs. Binney, her mother, and Mrs. [blank space left for name] Merritt with her. She invited me to ride back home with them but I went back on tr. from Hingham Sta. 7 P.M. tr. arr. N.S. 7:15 P.M. Par. clou. W.N.E. and S.E. good weather. Eve. clou. Played on the guitar 1 hour in eve.
26th. (Sun.) Warm weather, W.S.W. tem. 76. Late in aft. went to Egypt Beach — via Mann Hill. aft. clou. just as I arr. there it began to rain. Staid [sic] on the veranda of a house near the beach. At 3:45 P.M. started for home — arr. 4:30 P.M. walked 3 m. in 45 min. Eve. cloudy. Warm. Light rain at times.
27th. Went to Hungham (9:12 A.M. tr.) Walked to Hingham Cen. and helped at the Auction — assistant to the auctioneer (Chauncy O. Davis, Hanover Cen., Mass. Tel — Hanover — 79-5). Ethel and I selected the things and I carried them to the auctioneer’s stand (near there) and Arthur Whiting placed them where people could see them. Auction began at 12:33 P.M. and finished at 6 P.M. Everything in all the buildings were sold. Arthur Whiting lives in West Hanover, Mass. Ethel H. Studley administrator of the estate. Had dinner and supper at Henrietta’s and staid all night. Arthur W. and I carried some furniture back into the large barn — for Mr. O. Smith, and he gave us each 50cts. Clou. A.M. fine weather after 11 A.M. Ethel played on her new piano in eve. Clou. W.E. in eve. Rain late in night.
28th. Staid at Henrietta’s. Helped Mr. Smith get his furniture out of the building (about 1 hour). He paid me 50cts. Did some chores on the place. Lottie went home this forenoon. Frank went to Scituate in eve. in his auto: to bring his mother home. Ellen came to Hingham with them — for a visit. I staid all night. Ethel played on the piano over an hour in eve. Very warm weather — W.S.W. […] temp. 82. About 5:30 P.M. par. Clou. — wind changed to N.W. very windy. Very cool in a few […] cold and windy all night. Henrietta and I danced the Mazurka — Ethel played it on piano.
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29th. Staid at Henrietta’s until 1 P.M. Did some chores. Had dinner there. Mrs. Keenan worked there to-day. Ethel gave me $5.00 for assisting at the auction — and Mr. Smith gave me 1.00 for work I did for him. Made $6.00 in all. Henrietta gave me some pieces of cooked meat to bring home. Came back on the 1:50 P.M. tr. Saw Ellery F. Hyland near Hingham Sta. One of the tires on his auto-truck was punctured — I loaned him $8.50 to get it repaired. Late in aft. Chopped old board and planks 1 1/2 hours for Mrs. M.G. Seaverns — 30. Very cool day and eve. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve.
30th. In forenoon swept and cleaned the Bates & Wilder Store for J.H. Vinal — has been using it to store goods in — is done with it now — lease expired. He gave me all the wood and boxes, a table, 2 flour bags (cloth) and a broom for cleaning the store — and brought them here in his grocery wagon. In aft. Worked 1 2/3 hours for Herbert Bates 45.– transplanting grape vines (4) also transplanted a rambler rose bush for Mrs. Mary Wilder (his sister) they live in a house close to the river — I got the water (to water the vines) from the river — then I transplanted 3 grape vines for Russell Wilder — 1 hour — 30. Then I picked up a small load of kindling wood — where the laundry building (close to my house) was torn down and J.H. Vinal and I carried it to his place and put it in his cellar. 1 hour — 25. Was dark then — then I got some of the wood for my use and put it in the house. Played on the guitar 1 1/2 hours in eve. Cloudy; W.E. to S.E. damp. Eve. clou.
31st. Picked wood out of the pile of rubbish where the old Chinese laundry was torn down. Also got some junk. Rain nearly all forenoon. W.S.W. clou. aft. and eve. W.E. Played on the guitar 1 1/2 hours in eve. Have worked 7 hours in all where the laundry building stood.
*Please note that the diary transcription is a rough-and-ready version, not an authoritative transcript. Researchers wishing to use the diary in the course of their own work should verify the version found here with the manuscript original. The catalog record for the George Hyland’s diary may be found here. Hyland’s diary came to us as part of a collection of records related to Hingham, Massachusetts, the catalog record for this larger collection may be found here.
by Peter Olsen-Harbich, Ph.D. Candidate, Lyon G. Tyler Department of History, William & Mary and NERFC Fellow
Among the austere manuscripts of the Massachusetts Historical Society’s collection resides an unassuming assemblage. Weighing in at precisely ten boxes, it bears a substantive though middling rank in the vast archival stock of America. An additional marker of ordinary quality concludes the title of the collection: “Transcripts.” These are thus ten boxes of derivative, copied papers—primary documents by proxy only. Yet a full examination of the collection title suggests a content that is anything but mundane, for these are the “Winthrop Family Papers [Transcripts],” also known as Ms. N-2211, a trove of transcribed, unpublished correspondence from the family whose various progeny presided at the very center of seventeenth-century New England’s political orbit.
As I began my research fellowship at the Society, I fully intended to spend my time entirely with original documents, as I felt any proper historian in an archive should. But in surveying the Society’s catalog in search of 17th-century materials on New England’s diplomacy with indigenous nations, it was obvious that dedicating myself to this collection of copies was in fact the most necessary task. The original manuscripts, fully transcribed but never completely published by the Society over its centuries of documentary editing, are almost certainly the largest collection of unprinted personal papers before 1700 in the American archive. The contents of the collection are too numerous to mention, though they generally survey the frontier period of the Connecticut Colony and this epoch’s concomitant conditions of extensive relations with indigenous peoples, agricultural and industrial establishment, and the disordered medical condition of settler populations. Ms.N-2211, then, though modest and unremarkable at first glance, is nothing less than the invaluable treasure of the most significant archival project in early American history.
Much of the Winthrop papers has already been published. Six volumes of records from this collection, inclusive of those documents dated from 1498-1654, were printed by the Society in the twentieth-century in two distinct editorial phrases. The first occurred between 1929 and 1947 and published all the Winthrop family papers dated between 1498 and 1649 in five volumes. It appears that an effort to complete publication of the papers was resumed in the 1960s and ran into the late 1980s, during which time the entire collection was transcribed and partially annotated. These transcriptions were the tireless and diligent work of Dr. Majorie Frye Gutheim, whom former MHS Director of Research Conrad Wright recalls clacking on a typewriter in the Society’s stacks deep into the evenings of his early professional years. One additional volume was produced by this effort in 1992, extending the publication’s chronology through 1654. But Dr. Gutheim’s efforts were far vaster than this single volume: she had transcribed the entire collection, with documents spanning 1655-1741 (bulk pre-1700) across the decades of work. As the publication project faded from active endeavor into a Society legacy, the transcripts remained: ten boxes worth of near-perfect paleographic detours around cribbed 17th-century hand.
Majorie Frye Gutheim Transcription of William Chesebrough [sic] to John Winthrop, Jr., 26 March 1656. Massachusetts Historical Society, Winthrop Family Paper Transcripts, Ms. N-2211. Original Ms. in Winthrop Family Papers Microfilm, P-350, Reel 5.Dr. Gutheim’s transcriptions make the 17th century accessible to the professional researcher and the curious Bostonian alike. For the likes of the former, the transcripts are an indispensable tool for expediting general scans of the collection’s contents, and for identifying documents of particular significance to one’s project. When scholars wish to verify the content of the transcriptions against the original manuscripts (though, I can assure, they will find this effort generates little), they remain at the Society, and microfilm of them is easily accessible at the Library of Congress and a variety of American universities. In about four weeks’ time, I was able to read the majority of the transcripts and verify the quotations I deemed relevant against the originals, undoubtedly saving months of laborious peering at the originals. For the likes of casual readers, the transcripts offer an unparalleled opportunity for casual access to the cutting edge of unpublished historical knowledge. It is fair, in other words, to say that Ms. N-2211 punches far above its weight. The Winthrop Papers remain exciting and accessible grounds for the excavation of new revelations on early American history.
On 4 March 1825, 57-year-old John Quincy Adams believed he had reached the apex of his political career when he was inaugurated the sixth president of the United States. “I entered upon this day with a supplication to Heaven, first for my Country; secondly for myself, and for those connected with my good name and fortunes, that the last results of its events may be auspicious and blessed.” However, Adams found the four years of his administration among the most challenging of his life. This month the Adams Papers editorial project added verified transcriptions of Adams’s diary entries for the period March 1825 to December 1829 as part of its John Quincy Adams Digital Diary. The entries chronicle his time in the White House, the 1828 presidential election, and Adams’s uneasy retirement from office, during which the former president worried he was “losing day after day without atchieving any thing.”
Lithograph of White House affixed inside front cover of John Quincy Adams’s Diary 37
As president, Adams’s agenda encompassed an ambitious strategy of reforms for American society, including internal improvements, a national university, and a department of the interior, many of which he outlined in his first State of the Union address in December 1825. From the start of his presidency, John Quincy dealt with the repercussions of the 1824 election, which Andrew Jackson and his supporters believed Adams had unfairly won by making a “corrupt bargain” with Henry Clay to secure the executive. By the 1826 mid-term elections, the Jacksonians assumed the majority in the House of Representatives and used their power in Congress to thwart Adams’s plans. The 1828 presidential campaign also began almost as soon as Adams took office in 1824, and with Adams and Jackson as the main opponents, it became one of the most fiercely contested political campaigns in American history.
Engraving of John Quincy Adams by Francis Kearney, circa 1824
John Quincy Adams’s private life was also difficult during these years. His wife, Louisa Catherine Adams, continued to have bouts of ill health throughout his presidency, and he grieved the loss of two close family members: his father, John Adams, died in 1826, and his eldest son, George Washington Adams, died in 1829. Upon learning of John Adams’s death, John Quincy recorded in his diary: “My father had nearly closed the ninety-first year of his life: A life illustrious in the Annals of his Country, and of the World— He had served to great and useful purpose his Nation, his Age, and his God— He is gone, and may the blessing of Almighty Grace have attended him to his Account.” As in previous years, John Quincy’s diary recounts his outlets from the pressures of his myriad public duties by continuing his exercise regimen of swimming and walking and spending time in the White House gardens.
For an overview of John Quincy Adams’s life during these years, read the headnote for the presidential period or navigate to the entries to begin reading the diary.
The John Quincy Adams Digital Diary is a born-digital edition that will pair a verified and searchable transcription of Adams’s diary with the manuscript images of the diary pages. The diplomat and statesman kept a journal for more than 68 years, starting in 1779 at the age of 12, and continuing until just before his death at age 80 in 1848. In all, his diary spans 51 volumes and comprises 15,000 manuscript pages. More than 3,200 pages are now available online through the generous support of the Amelia Peabody Charitable Fund, Harvard University Press, and private donors. To find out how you can get involved, visit the Digital Diary website.
For the last few months, I’ve been telling you about the letters of Dwight Emerson Armstrong of Wendell, Mass., who served with the 10th Massachusetts Infantry in the Civil War. Today we conclude his story.
Things were quiet for the 10th after the Battle of Fredericksburg in December 1862, which was just fine by Dwight. He did take part in Ambrose Burnside’s Mud March of January 1863, in which troops, artillery, and pontoon trains were trapped in a days-long downpour and got so bogged down in the mud that they had to give up and turn back. But after that disastrous march, the regiment settled in for the rest of the winter at the Union camp near Falmouth, Va. on the north bank of the Rappahannock River. Dwight called the lull “very agreeable to a man whose constitution will bear as much rest, as mine will.”
In early February, ten-day furloughs were granted on a very limited basis, but Dwight didn’t bother to request one because the time would be too short and, as he wrote his sister Mary (Armstrong) Needham, “if I should get there I should’nt want to come back. […] Do you know that it has been almost 2 years since I saw you.”
Of course, by mid-February, Dwight was complaining of boredom. The soldiers entertained themselves as best they could. On 7 March, Dwight and others attended a local “negro meeting,” which he described in detail in a letter to Mary the following day. He found the experience novel and amusing, writing, “I guess I laughed as much as ever I did in the same length of time.”
Apparently, Mary took exception to his mocking tone. (Our collection unfortunately doesn’t include her letters). Dwight replied to her more seriously a month later.
As for what you say about your not laughing, if you had been at the negro meeting I dont believe it. No doubt it was wrong to do it; but I’ll bet, you would have laughed, down in your stomach, all the while. […] No doubt they are sincere in their worship. It is strange, after being kept under, and abused, as they have been for generations back, that they are half as intelligent as they are. They seem to understand what is going on pretty well, and are loyal, and earnestly wish, and pray, for the success of our arms. […] They evidently are impressed with the belief that the good time is coming; when they will all be free and I dont see how any sane person can doubt it. How soon it will be, we dont know but I for one think […] we are only in the beginning of the war.
Dwight admitted that he’d underestimated the resilience, resourcefulness, and determination of the South, although he still believed the North would win the war, if for no other reason than that its army was larger. As he put it, “we have a good chance to break them and have a few left to start again with.”
On 8 April 1863, the Union troops were reviewed at Falmouth by President Abraham Lincoln himself, accompanied by General Joseph Hooker. Dwight had been harshly critical of Lincoln in previous letters, had even referred to him as “mad,” but now found his heart going out to him.
The President looks as if he was almost worn out. Poor man! I pity him, and wonder he is alive, surrounded as he is by such a pack of traitors, and numb skulls, and he the only honest man in the lot. I have scolded, a good deal about him, since he removed McClellan, and wished him in the bottom of the ocean, but was ready to forgive him, when I saw how pale and sorrowful he looked.
The last letter in the collection was written on 27 April. In it, Dwight primarily discussed mundane matters, but he also had this to say about the Confederate army: “If we could only drive them, off from the hills, on the other side of the river, so as to meet on equal terms I should have no fears of the result and have’nt as it is, much.”
Dwight was killed six days later on 3 May 1863 in the Battle of Salem Heights (or Salem Church), Va. He was 23 years old.
Coincidentally, the MHS holds a diary written by another member of Dwight’s company, Private George Arms Whitmore. Here’s an excerpt from George’s diary entry for that day:
In the afternoon we drove the rebels about 3 miles when they made a stand and we had a very hard time. There were 2 killed and we think one wounded. Their names were Dwight Armstrong Wm Ryther killed. And Christopher Megrath supposed to be wounded.
George Arms Whitmore diary, 3 May 1863
William Eaton Ryther was a 20-year-old from Greenfield, Mass. According to a history of the town, he and Dwight were buried on the field together. Dwight’s body was apparently later removed to Locust Hill Cemetery in Montague, Mass., where he’s buried with his parents.
Joseph K. Newell’s history of the 10th Regiment tells us that Christopher Megrath survived the battle and the war, but died in 1869 as a result of the wound he received that day.
Dwight’s sister Mary, to whom he wrote so faithfully, died in Springfield, Mass. in 1887.
Mary Millage completed her internship in the Reader Services department in Summer 2019. Her major project was compiling a subject guide for the history of infectious disease in Boston. This blog post came out of that research and highlights one of the collections Mary worked with as part of that project.
– Anna Clutterbuck-Cook, Reference Librarian.
Emerson P. Dibble, circa 1918
In July 1918, Emerson P. Dibble was 20 years old, and had just arrived at Parris Island, SC for training in the United States Marine Corps in the midst of the First World War. He was far from his hometown of Southwick, MA, and excited to embark on his new adventure. Ten months later, he was back in the United States after serving in Germany and France and surviving the influenza pandemic. In that time, he had matured a great deal, spent time in numerous military camps and hospitals, and contracted tuberculosis, which would eventually kill him. His letters home during this time are filled with personality, and by reading his words, it is easy to picture this lively young man as he relayed his experiences to his family.
Although his letters primarily cover just a few short years, they provide a human lens through which to examine important topics, such as the First World War and the influenza pandemic. Despite never seeing combat while in Europe, Dibble’s letters describe many aspects of soldiering, from drill to guard duty to the food. His letters shine light on the less glamorous day-to-day features of military life. He writes about many topics that most soldiers could speak to—food, care packages, camp conditions—but that do not fit the typical image of the First World War’s trenches and battles. Throughout his time in the military, Dibble retains his sense of humor and excitement about new experiences. He describes eating watermelon on the train ride to Parris Island, working in the kitchens at a military hospital in Bordeaux, and meeting French girls. He also describes the harsher realities of war: homesickness, worrying about his family, and the inconsistencies of the mail delivery. Across ten months, he matures a great deal without losing his sense of humor and liveliness.
Emerson P. Dibble to Millie Holcomb Dibble, 27 March 1919, discussing the food at the military hospital in Bordeaux, France
The portions of his letters that most clearly show his maturation are those that discuss the influenza pandemic. Dibble’s letters display the evolution of his feelings about the influenza and his fears for his family back home. At first, he is unconcerned with the outbreak and is convinced that it is simply the common flu. As time goes on and he begins to hear of the seriousness of the outbreak, and especially once he is in Europe and large passages of time go by without letters from home, he becomes increasingly concerned about his family and fearful of hearing that any of them are sick. Despite Dibble himself falling ill with influenza, he is still most concerned about his family and their health. Through these letters, the fear he was feeling and the uncertainty of the time are clear and moving. He even writes to his stepmother, Millie, that if it was not for his fiancé, Olive, he “wouldn’t care a d—n about coming back to the States if either” Millie or his father died of influenza (Emerson P. Dibble to Millie Holcomb Dibble, 18 January 1919).
Emerson P. Dibble to Millie Holcomb Dibble, 27 March 1919, discussing French girls
Through his letters, you really get a sense of Dibble and feel connected to him. The happiness and hardships he faced blend together into a compellingly human story. He was bored by the regimentation of the military but felt it was good for him, he frequently used slang in his letters and enjoyed learning French and German phrases, and he worried about his family while urging them not to worry about him. By the time he returns to the United States in May of 1919, you feel connected to this young man, which is part of why the last years of his papers are so difficult to read. When he returned to the United States, he was already ill with tuberculosis, although he did not yet know this. In three years, he was dead. He returned stateside happy to be close to going home and convinced that the doctors would soon cure him. His fast decline is jarring and heartbreaking. He was of his time, a time that was deadly through war and disease. His letters are full of personality and provide us with an unflinchingly human look at the time in which he lived. Although Emerson P. Dibble did not live to be very old, his letters can teach us a great deal about him and the time in which he lived.
Carte de visite of daguerrotype by Brady’s National Photographic Portrait Galleries, [Matthew B. Brady], after 1860In June, I began my internship with the Adams Papers editorial project at the MHS and started working on the Diary of John Quincy Adams, led by the wonderful Neal Millikan.
There was just one problem: I didn’t care about John Quincy Adams. What’s more, I knew almost nothing about him, apart from the fact that he was John Adams’s son and served as president.
As it turns out, your perceptions of someone change a lot when you read dozens upon dozens of pages from their personal diary. After transcribing and proofreading several months’ worth of his writings and doing web encoding for over a year of entries, I ended up getting to know quite a bit about the ins and outs of John Quincy Adams. Three months or so later, I think JQA, as we affectionately abbreviate him in the Adams Papers, is one of the most fascinating figures in American history.
JQA kept a behemoth of a personal record: his diary comprises fifty-one volumes, which he wrote over the course of 68 years beginning when he was twelve years old. They provide an unparalleled window onto the period between the nation’s founding in the last quarter of the 1700s and the time when a distinct national identity of the United States began to coalesce by the mid-1800s.
Despite the Homeric scale of his diaries, their small details are even more interesting than the grand geopolitical narratives which they convey.
His writings about religion are fascinating, and it’s amazing to glance into what religion looked like in the adolescent years of an independent America. Every Sunday, JQA quoted the readings from church and summarized the preacher’s sermon. Then, he bluntly—and often ruthlessly—critiqued the homilist’s eloquence and speaking style before proceeding to give his judgement on the theological contents and coherence of the sermon itself. About Rev. William Newell, minister of the First Parish of Cambridge, JQA wrote:
“His discourses are sensible and moral, but neither brilliant nor profound. The theological school at Cambridge, is yearly producing several such clergymen, and they are introducing a uniformity of composition and delivery, superior to those of their predecessors of the last age, but which leaves a desire for more variety at least of manner—” (28 August 1836)
Good reviews from JQA—something like the Roger Ebert of his time for religious services—were few and far between.
And while it is intellectually interesting to read about his solemn take on religion, it is outright fun to read words crafted in his decidedly less pious side. Peppered throughout his diary are insults which only a well-traveled, bookish, Harvard-educated, diplomat-turned-president-turned-legislator could concoct. Take this passage from his time in Congress, in which he gracefully provided his thoughts on prospective presidential candidates for the election of 1844:
“Buchanan is the shadow of a shade and General Scott is a Daguerrotype likeness of a candidate—all sunshine, through a camera obscura. . . . M’Lean, is but a second edition of John Tyler—vitally democratic, double-dealing and hypocritical—” (3 April 1843)
While at first it can be challenging to connect with someone from around two hundred years ago, for whom daguerreotype was modern technology, a further look provides glimpses of timeless humanity that makes JQA resemble what he really was—a person.
This comes through in his reflections on the quotidian tasks of keeping up with his correspondence, diary, and speeches, all of which he spent countless hours composing in addition to his regular duties as a statesman. Though JQA may have been a prolific and erudite writer, it didn’t come easily. Many a student in the midst of a paper can relate to his comments regarding backlogged diary entries which he was working on:
“Had I spent upon any work of Science or Literature, the time employed upon this Diary, it might perhaps have been permanently useful to my Children and my Country— I have devoted too much time to it— My physical powers sink under it—” (20 March 1821)
John Quincy Adams diary, 20 March 1821
More than simply an austere historical figure, JQA strikes me in his writing as a genuinely good person, striving to do what was right. Toward the end of his life, he undertook the writing of a speech to advocate for the abolition of slavery. While it was a daunting and exhausting project, JQA pressed on, determined
“to leave behind me something which may keep alive the flame of liberty and preserve it in that conflict between Slavery and freedom which is drawing to its crisis and which is to brighten, or to darken the condition of the human race upon earth—” (11 April 1843)
Keeping up with his writing might have been a constant source of pressure for JQA, but I am certainly grateful that he did it anyway. Without these invaluable records, he might well have remained just another name in a textbook for me. Fortunately, interning at the MHS has furnished me the opportunity to discover the vibrant, devoted, intelligent, sometimes curmudgeonly, but always loveable character that he was.
Today, we return to the diary of George Hyland. If this is your first time encountering our 2019 diary series, catch up by reading the January, February, March, April, May, June, July, and August 1919 installments first!
September finds George still settling into his tenement housing, returning to the James place several times to assist the James family with the moving of furniture and small repairs. His new home, which he rents at $12/month, is above a store run by J.H. Vinal across from the railroad station in North Scituate. “Cars go close by here,” Hyland observes in his Labor Day entry.
A map detail showing the location of the North Scituate railway station, 1930. Map from Welcome to the Pilgrims of 1930 (Scituate, Mass.).
The late-summer, early-autumn crops are ready to be harvested and George spends much of his work days in September picking beans, tomatoes, potatoes, grapes, and peaches, and tending to other crops. On the 12th he gets an irritant in his eye — he suspects lime — which becomes “swollen and painfull,” and on the 14th he treats it with a solution of water and boracic acid. On the 26th he eats his evening meal at the home of an acquaintance, Benjamin Briggs, where he approvingly notes that they serve “corned beef that the U.S. Gov. bought for the American troops in the late war in Europe — about 50 million pounds are being sold to the people in this country — it is very good meat.” He continues to play the guitar nearly every night for an hour or longer.
Join me in following George day-by-day through September 1919.
* * *
PAGE 340 (cont’d)
Sept 1. (Labor Day) fog and rain nearly all day. Moved some of my things in to my new home opp. the R.R. station, N. Scituate. Cars go close by here — only about 40 feet from the house. Eve. foggy light rain. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve.
2d. Light rain at times all day. Worked in Mr. James’s house all day — getting his furniture from the chambers and dusting it. Also washed the floors and cleaned the rooms. Moved nearly all my things early in eve. Eve. foggy. W.N.E. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve. Carried my things there in wheelbarrow.
3d. Worked in Mr. James’s house. Cleaned the stove, sink, and the rooms, set up bedstead, and did other work there. Mrs. Russell Wilder (nee Vera White) called there to engage me to do some work, also L. F. Hyland. Hyland called to get me to pick beans to-morrow. Rain nearly all day and eve. Moved the last of my things from the house early in eve. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve. Rain nearly all night — W.N.E.
4th. Picked beans 6 hours for L. F. Hyland (7 1/2 bus.) — 1.50. Had dinner there. Walked 1 1/4 miles — rode 1 1/4 miles with Ethel Merritt — in her automobile. Ret. walked 1 1/2 miles — rode 1 mile with Mrs. Fletcher in auto. Early in eve mowed grass and weeded back of and one side of the store — and house — ten. where I now live — also raked and piled it up. Also got some of my tools from a building on James place. Carried some bread and put it where the sparrows can get it to-morrow. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours late in eve. Fine weather. W.N.W. Clear. Warm. Fine eve. Very wet on low grounds now — meadows full of water. Called at Uncle Samuel’s. Sarah has gone back to Campello, and little Elizabeth is there — I gave her a large plum. Got Sarah’s milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Ethel got it.
5th. Worked 6 1/2 hours for Mrs. Russell Wilder X — mowing lawn, trimming rose bushes, weeding flower gardens, and other work — 2.00. Very fine weather, clear; W.S.E. called at Mrs. Mary Wilder’s (nee Bates) borrowed a lawn rake there. The river is bank [sic] full of water — some of it in her cellar. Mowed some grass and weeds back of this house early in eve. Played the guitar 1 hour in eve. Fine eve. W.N.W. (X nee Vera White)
6th. Worked 7 1/2 hours for H. Bruce Fletcher — cutting down trees and proping [sic] up branches of apple trees (they are very heavy with fruit) — 2.25. Mrs. F. and Mr. F. came over to the orchard — large orchard — walked up ret. rode 2 miles with Merton Burbank — in auto truck — he had a load of produce to deliver to their customers. Bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Hot weather. W.S.W. tem. about 62-88. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve.
7th. (Sun.) In aft. called at W.I. Lincoln’s — 1 1/2 hours. Martha gave me 7 cookies. Late in aft. went to Scituate Harbor — rode to Bay St., Egypt with W. I. Lincoln, Clinton, Merritt, and little Isaah Lincoln, Martha Lincoln, M. L. and I in back of front seat — in auto truck. We went to the Norwell farm. Then I walked to S. Har. Called at Scott Gannett’s place — (on Willow St.) owner of the house where I live now. Met Mary DeWire on Willow St. Called at Mrs. Talbot’s, Egypt. Had supper and spent eve. there. Walked home in eve. arr. 7.45 P.M.
PAGE 341
Sep. 7. [cont’d] A lady boarder at Mrs. Talbot’s gave me some candy. Hot weather to-day. Tem. 65-87 W.W.
8th. Picked beans (11 bus.) 7 1/2 hours for L. F. Hyland — 2.20. Hiram Litchfield also picked beans there — next to my home — the grey cat came there to see me. I had dinner at L.F. Hyland’s. Walked nearly up there. Rode 1/4 mile in school […] with Prescott Damon. Walked back. Got some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Called at Uncle Samuel’s — gave Elizabeth some of the candy the lady at Mrs. T’s gave. Elizabeth gave me 8 pears to carry home. I had 2 N.Y. Sun. papers to bring home — were sent to me by David Whiton, Groton, […]. Very hot weather — tem. 68-90; W.W. While on way home the wind suddenly changed to N.E. with strong breeze. Began to rain just before I arr. home. Thunder Tempest from 6 P.M. to 10:15 P.M. all around here very near at times. 10:30 P.M. another tempest began W. of here. Played on the guitar 1 ¼ hours in eve.
9th. Light rain all day and eve. W.N.E. tem. About 50-57. Did some work at home — repaired the door on the woodhouse. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve.
10th. Cloudy. Very damp and wet. W.E. Worked on the James place 5 hours — mowing with sickle, lawn mower, and shears. J.H. Vinal gave me 1 1/4 pounds of meat last eve. (Lamb.) to fry also gave 2 pails — peanut butter pails — pails with handles — good for water pails. Eve. clou. Played on the guitar 1 1/2 hours in eve.
11th. Worked on the James place 6 hours – I have mowed all over the place — with sickle, shears, and lawn mower and sythe, and worked on the walk — dug weeds out and raked it over. Very damp. W.E. Cloudy. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve. Eve foggy. Heavy rain late in night.
12th. Mowed front and around the house and picked pears 4 hours for Mrs. M.G. Seaverns — 1.20. Forenoon cloudy — light rain for a short time. Aft. clear, windy. N.W. Eve. clou. to par. Clou. W.N.N.N. Played on the guitar 1 h. 10 min. in eve. My left eye is hurt probably some lime got into [it] from a shelf in one of the rooms here. Picked some tomatoes in my garden late in aft. Also picked 4 good peaches from a tree there — all there was on the tree.
13th. In forenoon mowed lawn and around the house 3 1/2 hours for Mason Litchfield — 65. In aft. mowed lawn and bank 3 3/4 hours for Mrs. Eudora Bailey — 50. Fine weather. Clear. Warm. W.N.W. fine eve. Played on the guitar 1 h. 10 min. in eve.
14th. (Sun.) Fine weather; clear. W.N.W. Late in aft. went up to my old house, got some grapes (red) on the apple tree — W. side of the house. Called at Uncle Samuel’s. Ellen gave me some boracic acid — mixed with water (1 teaspoonfull [sic] to a glass of water) to wash my left eye which is swollen and painfull [sic]. Rode up with Ellery and S.E. Hyland — in auto. Walked back in eve. Called at Andrew Bates’ and bought some milk. Nellie G. Sharpe called here about 8:45 P.M. to see if I will pick beans for L.F. Hyland (her grandfather). She is a lovely girl — is my 3d cousin. Eve. cloudy. Very damp. W.M.W.
15th. Picked beans (6 bus.) 4 hours for L.F. Litchfield. Picked beans and had dinner there — he has let his house and moved into the house in Beechwood. Walked up and back. Began rain at 12:45 P.M. and rained all aft. Got wet. Stopped at Mrs. Merritt’s and bought some milk. Ethel got it. Eve. clou. Very damp. Called at Uncle Samuel’s gave Ellen and Elizabeth 2 peaches from the James place — tree in my garden.
16th. Worked 5 1/4 hours for Mrs. Russell Wilder — trimming edges of walks and digging them up and […] them. Also trimmed next to St. (State Road) — 1.60. Cloudy; W.E. Mr. James arr. At his home from Spokane, Wash. Late in aft. His wife, and his son’s wife came with him. I went there and helped to get their things where they wanted them. Charles also helped them. Fred T. Bailey helped me move the […] sofa bed from the S. front room (where I had put it last week) into the N. front room through very narrow doors — difficult job. The N. room was my music room when I lived there. Mr. James’ daughter-in-law is a very beautiful young woman. Rain all eve. Wind E. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve. Mr. James brought a dog from Wash.
17th. Worked 6 hours for Mr. James. Made slats for bedstead, moved furniture and etc. Mrs. James and I got the furniture from the garret and set it up. Put up shelves for maps and etc., laid a new carpet on the parlor floor and got everything set up in all the rooms. Weather fair. Warm. W.N.W. Eve. clear. Played on the guitar 1 h. 10 min in eve. Mrs. James lives in Seattle, Wash. born in W. Va.
18th. Worked 6 hours for Russell Wilder splitting and housing wood, cutting up old board and etc. and picking dry beans — 1.80. Fine weather. Cool; W.S.E. Eve. cool. Cut my hair in eve. in an Italian barber his shop only about 20 ft. from here — belongs to same man who owns this house (and store). Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve. Mrs. Vera Wilder pays me every night when I work for them.
Yesterday the 1st Division Regulars marched through Washington D.C. — they have just returned from Germany.
19th. Worked 7 hours for Russell Wilder mowing and trimming, digging potatoes — 2.10. Fine weather. Clear. Cool — max. Tem. 70. Mr. James called here late in aft. He thinks I have a good place (in the tenement over the store) he looked in all the rooms. His dog came up here with him. Mr. J is 96 years of age — so his daughter-in-law told me. I played on the guitar 1 ½ hours in eve.
20th. Worked 7 hours for Russell Wilder — diging [sic] potatoes, picking beans, sawing, splitting, and housing wood — 2.10. Warm weather.– tem. about 85. W.S.W. late in aft. Went up to Frank Clapp’s place and fed his horse, pig and chickens — he went away to-day — to stay 2 days. Eve. warm. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve.
21st. (Sun.) Very warm weather — W.S.W. tem. About 65-88. In morning went up to Frank Clapp’s and fed his horse, pig and chickens — F.C. arr. Home early in eve. I called there early in eve. He paid me 1.00 for doing the chores. Then I went on to Mrs. Merritt’s and bought some milk. Eve. warm and muggy.
22d. Worked 7 1/4 hours for Frank Clapp — picking tomatoes and tieing [sic] up cauliflowers. F.C. and Mrs. [blank space for name] also worked there. We rode there in his auto-truck. Mrs. [blank space for name] runs it. We came back at noon and went there again in aft. (to his farm in Norwell). Began to rain at 4:20 P.M. Very warm (87) and muggy. Played on the guitar 1 ¼ hours in eve. Ellery Hyland here 1/2 hour in eve. Stopped at Waldo Litchfield’s and bought some milk. Made 2.17 to-day. Had my dinner here to-day.
23d. Light rain at times W.N.W. Cool. In aft. worked 3 hours for Mr. James — setting up furniture and clearing out his storehouse — very dirty place — about 20 wheelbarrow loads of coal ashes and rubbish in
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it. Cleared it to be used as a wood house — also made a platform to put his large oil can on and place to put a lamp — or a small can when getting oil out of it. Rain late in aft. and in eve. Paid the rent for Sept. to-day — $12.00. Paid it to J. H. Vinal — Mr. Scott Gannett told me I could pay it to him, as I am seldom here except in eve. and prob. would not be here when he called to collect the rent for his houses and other places.
24th. Worked 6 3/4 hours for Russell and Mrs. Vera Wilder — mowing lawn and trimming grass around lawn. Made a circular flower garden, chopped up boxes and barrels, and housed the wood, and did other work — 2.00. Fine weather, W.E. Clear, eve. Clear. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve. Mrs. Wilder called here about 9:15 P.M. and said they would like to have me come to their place to-morrow morning and get a load of coal into the cellar — 1 1/4 tons it was brought there in a large auto-truck and the trucked got mired in the soft ground — and I will have to unload it where it is. 9:25 P.M. rained about 30 minutes […].
25th. In forenoon worked 4 hours X for Russell Wilder unloading and housing coal and filling up […] with bricks and coal ashes. Mrs. Mary Wilder — his mother, gave me 2 nice doughnuts. In aft. Went grapeing — picked 10 qts. of very fine wild grapes. Called at Uncle Samuel’s and E. Hyland’s — Ellery Hyland brought my grapes here in eve. I walked up and back — walked 6 miles — 3 miles through rough, wet and briers and tall grass and bushes. Called at Mrs. Merritt’s and bought some milk — she put in an extra pint — in my pail — fine weather. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve. — X 1.20 work for R Wilder.
26th. Worked 8 hours for E. Frank Clapp — picking tomatoes and tieing cauliflowers — his Norwell farm. Carried a lunch — but had dinner at Benjamin Briggs’: they had some of the caned [sic] corned beef that the U.S. Gov. bought for the American troops in the late war in Europe — about 50 million pounds are being sold to the people in this country — it is very good meat. Rode to the farm in E.F. Clapp’s market wagon — I went there alone with the horse and wagon — brought back the tomatoes that I picked. Fine weather — clear — W.N.W. in forenoon. S.E. in aft. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve.
27th. Worked 8 hours for E. Frank Clapp. — picking tomatoes and tieing up cauliflowers. Fine weather. Clear; W.N.E. to S.E. rode up to the farm and back — with the horse — in wagon. Had dinner at B. Briggs; bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Eve. clear. Cold. Played on the guitar 1 1/4 hours in eve. Mrs. [blank space for name] gave me a pint jar of tomatoes to take home — she comes up to the farm every day — and works there part of the time — She is E.F. Clapp’s […] and housekeeper.
28th. (Sun.) Fine weather, W.N.E. to S.E. Called at W. F. Lincoln’s in aft. (2 h.) he gave me some grapes. Fine eve.
29th. Picked beans and tied up cauliflowers — 8 hours for E. Frank Clapp — rode up and back with his horse and wagon. Had dinner at B. Briggs’ part of which I carried there. Very fine weather W.N.W in forenoon — S.E. in aft. Clear and warm. W.S.S.W. in eve. Cloudy late in eve.
30th. Worked 8 hours for E. Frank Clapp – [space left blank] Hot weather W.S.W. tem. about 85. W.N.W. and cloudy after 4 P.M. picked beans, carried cauliflowers out of the field — to a place near the gate (35 bus.) E.F.C. and Mrs. [space left blank for name] worked on the cauliflowers — after 3 P.M. I picked and loaded 10 bus. of tomatoes. Went with the horse and wagon — they went in the auto! — They went to Boston with a load. Emma Fletcher — in auto. I arr. house at 7:30 P.M. Played on the guitar 1 h. 5 min. in eve. Had lunch at B. Briggs. Got a […] to-day.
*Please note that the diary transcription is a rough-and-ready version, not an authoritative transcript. Researchers wishing to use the diary in the course of their own work should verify the version found here with the manuscript original. The catalog record for the George Hyland’s diary may be found here. Hyland’s diary came to us as part of a collection of records related to Hingham, Massachusetts, the catalog record for this larger collection may be found here.
