Living with Copley’s Fragments

by Caroline Culp, Stanford University, Andrew W. Mellon Short-Term Research Fellow at the MHS

There is a curious, even eerie painting in the Massachusetts Historical Society’s collections. The remnant of a larger canvas, Charles Russell’s disembodied head floats as if suspended in its adopted gold frame. So many of the standard questions scholars lob at portraits fail to stick to Russell’s image—How does the sitter’s pose reflect his identity? How does his clothing mark his social rank? How do the objects surrounding him speak to his historical moment?

Portrait of Charles Russell
John Singleton Copley, Charles Russell, circa 1757.

None of these questions can be answered. Instead, the repeated drumbeat of one query sounds: why and how did this cut-out face survive?

Charles Russell was painted by John Singleton Copley (1738-1815), colonial America’s preeminent artist. Perhaps the work was completed in 1757, on the occasion of Russell’s graduation from Harvard. A loyalist, Russell fled to Antigua in 1774, where he died six years later. His portrait remained in the care of his sister, Sarah Russell, until her death in 1819, when it should have been inherited by Charles Russell’s eldest daughter, Penelope Russell Sedgwick.

But according to family ledged, Penelope’s sister Katharine Russell was so distraught at not herself receiving the picture of her father that “she cut out the head with a pair of scissors, and concealed it in her pocket” where she “always carried the head cut from the portrait.” In the pocket it remained for nearly thirty years, until “shortly before her death in 1847 she sent for her cousin, confessed to her what she had done, and gave her the head.” For almost a hundred years afterward the fragment was passed down the female line of the family until Mary Curtis donated it to the Society in 1943.[1]

This startling tale of family jealousy, desire, and destruction reveals Katharine Russell’s deep fetishization of her father’s portrait. It is a story that calls us to re-imagine all those heritage portraits hanging silently above the fireplace of American history.

In the 19th-century Atlantic world, a portrait was no mere silent witness to domestic drama. It was often a personified presence, activated by the mind’s desire for connection. A set of Copley family letters in the MHS collections illustrate the role a portrait could play within the home. Years after the painter left revolutionary Boston for London, his daughter Elizabeth (called Betsy) married and returned to America. Letters between Betsy and her sister Mary vowed that Betsy’s “absence will never lessen our mutual attachment.” Please, Mary begged, “dear Sister write to me as frequently as you can, as that alone can alleviate the pain of separation.”[2]

It was Betsy’s portrait that lessened some of the heartbreak the Copleys left in London felt at her leaving the household—and the hemisphere. John Singleton Copley painted Betsy shortly before her departure, capturing her with dreamy directness, her mouth half open as if about to speak. Though her dress and background fade into incompleteness, the crisp strokes of her face look ahead to the “immense distance [that] will be between us.” Betsy’s portrait was touted as “perfectly satisfy[ying]” to the family, who were “quite in raptures” with this surrogate presence that came to represent her absence.[3]

Today, Copley’s fragments of the past continue to have a presence among the living. Anne E. Bentley, Curator of Art & Artifacts at the Massachusetts Historical Society, welcomes incoming staff members with: “Let’s see if we can find you a nice office mate.” New staffers may select a work of art from the Society’s collections to hang in their personal office—a work that would otherwise be languishing off view in the shadows of storage. Bentley helps MHS historians to find a fitting “office mate” to share their space and inspire their work. It is this practice that allows Copley’s miniature portrait of Samuel Danforth to retain the integrity of its original use. Looking out affably from his gilded oval frame, Danforth’s image from the 18th century continues to be comfort and company in the 21st. Would that we could all have “someone to live with” at work.[4]

Portrait of Samuel Danforth
John Singleton Copley, Samuel Danforth, circa 1758.

[1] All quotations copied from a letter given by the donor, Mary Curtis, when she donated the fragment to the MHS in 1943. See Andrew Oliver, Ann M. Huff, and Edward W. Hanson, Portraits in the Massachusetts Historical Society: An Illustrated Catalog with Descriptive Matter (Boston: The Society, 1988): 87.

[2] Mary Copley to Elizabeth Copley Greene. August 23rd, 1800. MHS MS N-1034, Box 1.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Quotations derive from email correspondence with Anne Bentley and Katy Morris, April 5, 2019.

Posted in From Our Collections Tagged

“Aut Ceasar aut Nullus”: The 1796 Presidential Election and Abigail Adams’ Latin Motto

Rhonda Barlow, The Adams Papers

Unlike the Harvard-educated men in her family, Abigail Adams did not spend years of her life learning Latin. When John Adams wrote to her and used Latin phrases, he often included the English translation. Once, after quoting several lines of the Roman poet Horace, he advised her to have John Quincy translate it for her. Yet in 1796, when it was unclear who would succeed George Washington as president, Abigail declared, “Aut Ceasar aut Nullus, is my Motto tho I am not used to quote lattin or spell it.”

Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams
Abigail Adams to John Adams, 14 Feb. 1796, Adams Papers

“Either Caesar or nobody.” Abigail’s long correspondence provides clues to how and why she developed this motto. When Abigail read Plutarch’s Lives, the descriptions of the “tyranny, cruelty, devastation and horrour” of the Roman emperors gave her nightmares. She observed that just as Satan “had rather Reign in Hell than serve in Heaven,” Julius Caesar would “rather be the first man in a village than the second in Rome.” She remarked that “to be the first in a village, is, preferable to the second in Rome and, is one of the first Maxims in the Catalogue of Ambition.”

When Abigail opened a 20 Jan. 1796 letter from John and read that George Washington would not seek a third term, she wrote back the next day, “My ambition leads me not to be first in Rome,” but “as to holding the office of V P, there I will give my opinion. Resign retire. I would be Second under no Man but Washington.” John also reported on the sectional divisions in Congress, and a possible compromise between “the Southern Gentry” and “the Northern Gentlemen” which would result in Thomas Jefferson becoming president and Adams remaining vice president.

But Abigail was having none of it. Writing to John on 14 Feb. 1796, she declared: “The Southern Gentlemen think I believe that the Northern Gentleman are fools, but the Nothern know that they are so, if they can believe that Such bare faced Dupery will succeed.” As long as Washington was president and Martha Washington first lady, she “had no desire for the first,” but if the Washingtons sought retirement, then, “Aut Ceasar aut Nullus, is my Motto tho I am not used to quote lattin or spell it.”

Letter from John Adams to Abigail Adams
John Adams to Abigail Adams, 1 March 1796, Adams Papers

John responded with a Latin motto of his own on 1 March 1796: “I am quite at my Ease— I never felt less Aniety when any considerable Change lay before me. aut transit aut finit— I transmigrate or come to an End. The Question is between living at Phila. or at Quincy. between great Cares and Small Cares.” John’s stoical acceptance of his fate belied his own ambition.

Aut Ceasar aut Nullus: Abigail issued her challenge to Congress and the nation. John won the election, and she became the first woman in Rome.

Julius Caesar bust
Bust of Julius Caesar, Vatican Museums
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Theodore Metcalf, “the Nestor of Boston’s Drug Trade”

By Susan Martin, Processing Archivist & EAD Coordinator

The apothecary of Theodore Metcalf & Co. was a Boston staple for decades. Founded by Metcalf in 1837 in the former house of Peter Faneuil at 39 Tremont Street, the pharmacy was patronized by untold numbers of the city’s residents in the 19th and early 20th century. The MHS recently acquired a fascinating volume listing thousands of daily prescriptions administered to Metcalf & Co. customers between 19 April 1865 and 5 April 1866.

Daybook
Daybook of Theodore Metcalf & Co.

The volume is very large—over 16 inches tall and 2 inches thick—and every one of its 552 pages is dense with writing. (I don’t know if the handwriting is Metcalf’s or a clerk’s.) Prescriptions for a single day stretch to several pages. Considering that this volume represents only one year of prescriptions, we can get a sense of the scope of the operation. The pharmacy obviously did a booming business.

I couldn’t possibly list all the medicines, tinctures, extracts, and treatments Metcalf’s clientele were prescribed, but here are a few that caught my eye.

There’s cannabis…

Detail from page 6 of daybook
Detail from page 6

Codeine…

Detail of page from daybook
Detail from page 73

And belladonna.

Detail of page from daybook
Detail from page 187

Other prescriptions include laudanum, potassium iodide, quinine sulfate, narceine, camphor, and Hooper’s Female Pills(!). (I’ll leave it to the experts to make inferences from these, but I admit I spent a little time researching what conditions these medications were used to treat.) A promotional booklet, cited in a later article, touted Metcalf & Co.’s role in introducing to the American public “the four inestimable boons to humanity, chloroform, cocaine, ether, and vaccine.”

Some entries in the volume contain specific instructions, such as “To be rubbed behind each ear at night” or “One pill every second hour until the bowels are thoroughly moved.” Many, though not all, include the name of the prescribing doctor, a who’s who of the Boston medical establishment, as well as the name of the patient. Among Metcalf’s more recognizable customers were poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow…

detail from daybook
Detail from page 183

And Massachusetts Senator Charles Sumner.

detail from daybook
Detail from page 233

Some of the symbols and abbreviations are unfamiliar to me, including letters in the first column and something resembling shorthand or Roman numerals in the third. I assume these notations indicate doses or lots, but I wonder if any Beehive readers might know. Please leave a comment below if you do!

Theodore Metcalf was only 25 years old when he opened his pharmacy, which would grow by leaps and bounds until it became what an article in the National Magazine (September 1904) called “the finest drug store in the world.” A piece in the Bulletin of Pharmacy (July 1908) features some terrific photographs of the store’s interior.

An obituary of Theodore Metcalf in the American Druggist and Pharmaceutical Record (5 May 1894) compared him to the wise advisor of the Odyssey and the Iliad, “the Nestor of Boston’s drug trade.” Metcalf was also credited with “elevating the position of the pharmacist from the rank of a tradesman to that of a professional man.” He was one of the founders of the American Pharmaceutical Association (now the American Pharmacists Association) in 1852.

We hope this volume will prove to be a valuable resource for researchers. The raw data it contains could inform many different fields of study. And you don’t have to take my word for it: according to one of the articles cited above, “The prescription books of the Metcalf store are of great historic value.” Another writer agreed, declaring that Metcalf’s “array of prescription books bound in Russia leather […] told an eloquent tale.”

Posted in From Our Collections Tagged ,

An Archival Mys-Tree

by Hannah Elder, Library Assistant

Happy spring, everyone! In honor of this new season, I’d like to share a bit of an arboreal mystery that I recently uncovered. While thumbing through Volume VII of the Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, I discovered a series of letters exchanged between the MHS and Mr. D. McConaughy, in Pennsylvania, following the Battle of Gettysburg in 1863. The letters, transcribed in full in the Proceedings, were related to the transportation of the trunk of a white oak tree, riddled with bullets, from the forest of a hill on the battle site. I was immediately intrigued.

The first letter, addressed to Massachusetts Governor John A. Andrew, reads:

Gettysburg, Penn., August 7, 1863

Hon. John A. Andrew, Governor of Massachusetts.

Governor – I have selected from the forest upon Wolf Hill, at our breastworks, a trunk of a white-oak tree, fearfully riddled with bullets, so as to exhibit the effects of the withering musketry fire in the action of the 2d and 3d of July ult., when the enemy were so terribly repulsed on our right. In that wonderful strife, the Second Massachusetts Regiment bore a conspicuous and honorable part, as the thick graves of its noble dead eloquently attest. This scarred memento I desire to present to the Massachusetts Historical society; and have it now at the depot of our railroad, ready for shipment. Will you make the necessary arrangements for its transportation to Boston, and advise me of your readiness to receive it? For the life of your brave sons, poured out freely upon our soil, Pennsylvania sends this outgrowth of the life of her soil, eloquent of the dauntless strife and the glorious triumph here achieved.

With sentiments of high regard and esteem, yours truly,

D. McConaughy

Later that month, the Society replied:

Historical Rooms, Boston, Aug. 27, 1863

Dear Sir – Your eloquent and acceptable letter addressed to Governor Andrew has by him been forwarded to the Massachusetts Historical Society; in whose behalf I have the honor to communicate the wish, that you would add to the sense of obligation already conferred upon them, by transmitting by express, if no other means offers, the memorial of Gettysburg and its historic days which you have been kind enough to offer for their acceptance.

If directed to the Massachusetts Historical Society, Tremont Street, Boston I have no doubt it will duly reach its destination.

As I cannot speak authoritatively in the name of the Society, there have been no opportunity for them to act upon the matter, I shall not attempt to express, in such terms as I know they would desire, cordial response with which they would reciprocate the generous and patriotic sentiments with which you proffer this memorial of the great battle in this new war of independence. I hope a more formal recognition of these will be forthcoming when this shall have been added to the valued historic memorial which it is the purpose of this Society to collect and preserve.

Very respectfully your obedient servant,

Emory Washburn,

Chairman of Committee, &c.

The letters then tell the story of the tree’s journey from Pennsylvania to Boston over the course of September 1863. From Gettysburg, the tree traveled in an open-topped railcar to Philadelphia, where it was temporarily under the care of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, which received a similar tree from Mr. McConaughy. While it was stopped in Philadelphia, it was under the guard of a police officer and a travel case was created for it. Next, the tree was placed on a steamship and it sailed to Boston, where it was received with excitement by the Society. After receiving the tree, the Society unanimously resolved to thank D. McConaughy for his donation of the tree, the Historical Society of Pennsylvania for caring for the tree, and the Northern Central Railway and the Pennsylvania Railway, along with the steamship Saxon, for transporting it free of charge.

After reading this, I had so many questions – was the tree still in the collection? What exactly did “trunk of a tree” mean? How had we stored and preserved it? So I took a look through our catalog, ABIGAIL, and asked a few members of the MHS staff, but was unable to locate the tree. It seems that it left the collection at some point, but no one is sure when. It was time for some digging through the institutional archives! I looked through the library records; the “Library Letters,” correspondence detailing gifts to the library; the Cabinet Book, which recorded the donations of artifacts to the collection; and curatorial records, but had no luck.

Page of Cabinet Book
Page of the Cabinet Book where I hoped to find record of the tree

Next, I tried the various catalogs of the collection created in the mid- to late-nineteenth century. And I found it! In the 1885 Catalogue of the paintings, engravings, busts, & miscellaneous articles belonging to the cabinet of the Massachusetts Historical Society, the tree is listed as Entry 119. The catalog record quotes directly from the initial letter from Mr. McConaughy and notes its presence in the Proceedings. I was excited to find the tree in the 1893 version of the catalog as well, but that catalog was just an annotated version of the 1885 catalog. The entry for the tree was unchanged.

1885 Catalog of the Cabinet
The tree in the 1885 catalog of the Cabinet

That’s where the tree’s documented journey ends, at least for now. I’ll keep searching, and I’ll be sure to post an update if I find evidence of the tree somewhere else in the collection.

In the meantime, in ABIGAIL I found records of other tree-related artifacts you may want to check out:

–Fragments taken from the roots of the Liberty Tree

–Nail and tree bark

–Triangular piece cut from Shakespeare’s mulberry tree

–Wood from the mulberry tree in the manor garden, Scrooby, England

–Painted bark doll

–Piece of wood from a tree reportedly used to hang witches

–Oak leaves

If you want to view these artifacts or any of our other collections, please consider visiting the library!

Posted in From Our Collections Tagged

George Hyland’s Diary, March 1919

By Anna Clutterbuck-Cook, Reader Services If this is your first time encountering our George Hyland diary series, catch up by reading the January 1919 and February 1919 installments first! Today, we follow George through a March that brought signs of spring. George moves from cutting firewood to trimming fruit trees (carefully noting how many hours he spends on each job and how much he is owed, striking out the amount when he is paid). The temperatures he faithfully records grow warmer, on average — though snow and rain fall regularly — and he notes that robins and bluebirds have returned. So, too, the frogs begin peeping. Illness has taken its toll on George’s social network — winter colds, bronchitis, and rheumatism bring lingering pain and fatigue. In the midst of seasonal chores and local networks of sociality, George also takes time to occasionally take note of world political events. On March 5th he notes that President Wilson has returned to Europe for the Peace Conference in Paris. A few days later, between recording his purchase of milk and a note about spring peepers he writes, “Women go to the polls and vote now. Mrs. Mable [sic] Newcomb voted at same time I did — in next booth.” Thus winter gives way to spring. Without further ado, join George on his daily rounds during March 1919. * * * PAGE PAGE 324 (cont’d) March 1. rain until about 2 P.M. W.S. to S.W. steady rain. Windy. Clear late in aft. tem. to-day about 42-55. Early in eve. went to N. Scituate. Bought some groceries at Mrs. Seavern’s store — also some choc. candy for Elizabeth. Walked down and nearly back — rode 1/4 mile with Robert J. Litchfield in his automobile. Met Marion Hammond and Norma Morris — near N. Scituate. Eve. clear; W.N.W., colder. 2d. Fine weather, clear; tem. About 27-40. Wind, variable N.W., S.E. Eve. clear. Bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s in eve. Called at Uncle Samuel’s. Elizabeth gave me 3 nice apples. 3d. Par. clou. In forenoon, aft. And eve. Clear. Tem. 30-46; W.N.E. Late in forenoon — 11:05 A.M. started for Hingham. Walked to Hin. Cen. via Mt. Blue St. arr. At Henrietta’s at 1 P.M. Streets very wet and muddy. Had dinner at Henrietta’s. Spent aft. There. Ret. walked to H. Sta. tr. to N. Scituate, then walked home. Bought some bread in H. — H […] Supply Co. — also bought some choc. candy for Elizabeth — 3cts. Bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Stopped there on my way from N.S. Henrietta is learning to play on the violin. Walked 8 1/2 miles. 4th. Went to Henrietta’s. Walked through Hingham woods (Mt. Blue St.) roads very muddy. Had dinner there and Spent aft. there. ret. — walked to Hingham Sta. tr. to N.S. then walked nearly home — rode 1/2 mile with Charles Fish in auto. Walked 8 miles. Bought some cho. candy for Elizabeth – 3cts. Gave it to [her] when I stopped there — on way home — she and Ellen and Uncle Samuel have a cold. Fine weather. W.S.S.W. tem. 32-55. Clear. Eve. clear. 5th. Clear to par. Clou. W.S.W. and S. tem. about 48-60. In aft. trimmed apple trees and other fruit trees 3 hours Hyman Coyne — He lives on the place that my Great-Grandfather owned and occupied — Cornelius Bates — was a soldier in the Continental (Regular) Army in the Rev. War. –1775-1782. Mar. a French girl — in Vermont or Can. So I am partly of Fr. origin. […] PAGE 325  Nationality.      The place is only 1/2 mile N. of here. Mr. Coyne is a Russian. Pres. Wilson sailed for France about 8:18 this A.M. on the Stm. “George Washington,” from N.Y. Hoboken Pier, N.J. returned to Fr. to take (continue) part in the Peace Conference in Paris. He has been in U.S. only 8 or 9 days — he arr. In Boston, Mon. A.M., Feb. 24, made a speech in Mechanic’s Hall in aft. and in eve. Left Boston for Washington, D.C. He came back from Fr. to attend to important business, then started back to-day. I heard the guns of the battleship “North Carolina” firing Pres. salute of 21 guns, when the Pres. arr. in Boston […] Pres. Wilson arr. in France (2d time) Mar. 5th continued. Clou. after 3 P.M. began to rain about 4:50 P.M. went to H. Brown’s store after I fin. work bought a daily paper. Also bought a large orange for Elizabeth – 7cts. Then went to Mrs. Merritt’s and bought some milk — also got some for Ellen. Elizabeth has a bad cold — prob. Has bronchitis. Light rain all eve. Very windy to-day. 11:50 P.M. wind light. 6th. Trimmed a large apple tree for Hyman Coyne — 2 1/2 hours — 63. Late in aft. Trimmed a large apple tree for Aaron Bates — 1 1/2 hours — 40. Clear; W.N.W., N.E., S.E.; tem. 28-40. Early in eve. bought some bread at H. Litchfield’s then went to Mrs. Merritt’s and bought some milk. Eve. clear. 7th. Split and housed 1 cord of heavy hardwood (maple, ash, w. birch, yellow birch, black birch, w. oak, black oak, Elm (2 kinds), and some pieces of pine) for E. Jane Litchfield — 6 3/4 hours — 175. Had dinner there. Cold; damp wind, N.E. to S.E.; tem. about 33-37. Bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s in eve — also got some for Ellen. Little Elizabeth gave me 2 apples. She is a little better — has a bron. cough. She is only 4 yrs old. 8th. A.M. cold, par. clou. W.N.E. Sold 25 lbs of papers and mag. 10 to Hyman Coyne. In aft. went to Cohasset. Walked with Geo. and Mrs. Ellery out; walked 9 miles. Bought some groceries at the […] store — bought 2 cakes of maple sugar for Elizabeth – 5 cts. Bought (in eve.) some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s and some bread at H. Litchfield’s. Par. clou. W.S.E. cold. tem. to-day 32-38. Eve. par. clou. Cold. W.S.E. 11:55 P.M. clear. calm. pruning […] shears at McGrand’s Hardware Store (C)  paid 2.00 — for pruning fruit trees. Has long wood handles. Rain and very windy late in night. W.S. 9th (Sun.) rain all day, W.S. to S.W. tem. About 40-60. Eve. cloudy. 10th. Went to Town Meeting in the town hall, Scituate Cen. rode down and back with Aaron Bates in auto. Hired by Archie Mitchell […] for road surveyer [sic]. Clear. cold. wind blowing a heavy gale — 42m. W.N.W. tem. 34-48. Bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s early in eve. Eve. clear. wind light. Women go to the polls and vote now. Mrs. Mable [sic] Newcomb voted at same time I did — in next booth. I heard a frog peeping last eve. 11th.Clou. A.M. light rain 10 A.M. to 1:30 P.M. W.S.W. cold, chilly wind. Sawed split wood in the cellar in forenoon. In aft. trimmed young apple (17) trees 1 1/4 hours for Anthony E. Litchfield also 1 nut tree — in his field in Norwell — 30. Aft par. clou. to clou. 5 P.M. cloudy. W.N.E. Went to Mrs. Merritt’s and bought some milk early in eve. Also bought some bread at H. Litchfield’s. 8 P.M. clear. Colder. Robins are around here now. Several in the orchard where I worked in aft. 12th. Clear. windy. Chilly. W.W.S.W. tem. 32-48. In aft. trimmed apple trees 3 hours for William F. Carter, N. Scituate. Down with […] Pratt in Mrs. Seavern’s grocery wagon, walked back. Bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Eve. clear. 13th. Forenoon fair to par. clou. Aft. par. clou. to clou. W. N.N. W. In aft. Trimmed fruit trees 2 3/4 hours for W.H. Carter. Walked down and back. Cold in aft. Windy. tem. To-day 50-32. Bought some milk — PAGE 326  Mar. 13 — at Mrs. Merritt’s early in eve. Bought some groceries at Mrs. Seavern’s store — also some choc. candy for Elizabeth – 3cts. Called at Charlie’s late in aft. He has had the rheumatism for 2 weeks — better now. Eve. cold. W.N.E. tem 25. 11:40 P.M. W.W. par. clou. Cold night. 14th. Cold weather — tem. 14-30. Wind N.W., N.E., S.E. did some work at home. Eve. cold — 26. 15th. Clear. Cold. W.N.E., S.E., tem. 16-34. In aft. dug around trees 2 hours for A.E. Litchfield in Norwell — 50. Early in eve. Went to H. Brown’s store also H. F. L’s to buy some bread then to Mrs. Merritt’s to buy some milk. Eve. par. clou. Cold — tem. 27; W.S.E. 16th. Cold, stormy. W.S.E. Light rain and snow all day and eve. tem. 36-34. 17th. Light rain, W.S.E. Very wet in streets — snow, water, mud. Tem. 34-36. Eve. clou. Very foggy. 18th. Light rain all day and eve. W.S. tem. About 54. Called at Uncle Samuels’ in early eve. Did a few chores — Uncle S. has a bad cold — has had it 3 or 4 weeks. 19th. Rain all day and eve, W.N.E., tem. About 38. Called at Uncle Samuel’s late in aft. Elizabeth gave me a piece of candy (Ellen made it) and an apple. 11 P.M. Cloudy. W.E. 20th. Cloudy. W.N.E. tem. About 42. Late in aft. Went to N. Scituate walked down and back. Bought some groceries at Mrs. Seavern’s store. Also some choc. candy for Elizabeth – 2 cts. Eve. clou. windy. — N.E. 11 P.M., par. Cloudy. 21st. Cloudy. W.N.E. tem. About 36-48. Called at Uncle Samuel’s late in forenoon — did some chores there. Hard dinner there. Called again early in eve. did a few chores. Elizabeth gave me an apple. Frogs are peeping. Spring birds are around here. Robins and Bluebirds. Misty rain for 1/2 hour to-day — in forenoon. Eve. cloudy. 22nd. Clou. W.N.E. cold. tem. About 34-38. Sarah came to Uncle Samuel’s last night and late in aft. (to-day) went back to Campello on 4:16 tr. (P.M.) from N. Scituate. I walked to N.S. and waited until Sarah and Elizabeth got aboard the tr., then went to Charlie’s — staid [sic] there about 2 hours, had supper there and walked home in eve. Daisy Graves still boards at Charlie’s. Charles has the rheumatism — in face, neck, and back of head. Has had it 3 or 4 weeks. A little better now. Bought some groceries at Mrs. Seavern’s store. Bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. Eve. clou., very windy — N.E. 23rd. (Sun.) Rain all day (light rain) and eve. W.N.E. cold storm. tem. About 34-38. Called at Uncles Samuel’s late in aft. Did a few chores. 24th. Clear; W.N.E.; tem. About 36-42. Called at Uncle Samuel’s late in forenoon — did some chores there. Had dinner there (ate part of the food I intended to carry to N. Scituate for my dinner there — also some that Ellen had cooked). In aft. went to N. Scituate and trimmed fruit trees for 3 1/4 hours for Wm. Carter. Bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s in eve. 25th. Clear; W.N.W; tem. about 34-55. In aft. trimmed fruit trees  3 1/2 hours for Wm. Carter — 12 1/2 hours in all — 3.17.  Carried my dinner to-day. Walked down and back. Called at Uncle Samuel’s. Did some chores. Bought some milk at Mrs. Merritt’s. 26th. Fine weather, W.S.W. to S.; tem. 46-66. Clear. In aft. (late) trimmed a large apple tree for Mrs. Ethel Torrey (nee Speare), N. Scituate — 2 1/4 hours — 60. Stopped at Uncle Samuel’s and did some chores. Met Ella Vinal late in aft. — first time for 4 1/2 years. One of my pupils on the guitar — passed by when I was up in the big apple tree. Nearly dark then. Later met near the R.R. Sta. 27th. Called at Uncle Samuel’s late in forenoon. Did some chores there had dinner there. Late in aft.trimmed fruit trees (two tall, old apple trees, and 5 or 6 small apples and pear trees) 2 hours — 50. Par. clou.; W.S. to S.S.W. tem. about 46-54. Eve. clou.; W.S.E. rain late in night. W.S.E. to S. Very windy — 35m. […] 28th. Rain all forenoon. W.S. tem. 45. Snow (light) in aft. for 1/2 hour. W.S.W. cold. Called at Uncle Samuel’s late in forenoon. Had dinner there. Did some chores early in the eve. Went to Mrs. Merritt’s and bought some milk. Stopped at Uncle Samuel’s and did some chores. Eve. cold. Cloudy. W.W. Windy — tem. 26. 11 P.M. Snow storm. Light snow S. all night. 29th. Snowstorm all day and eve. W.N.W.; tem. 26-32. Went down PAGE 327 to Uncle Samuel’s late in forenoon did some chores — had dinner there, also did some chores late in aft. Had supper there cold and very windy late in aft. Snowstorm. Snow drifting. 12 (mid!) still snowing. 30th. (Sun.) Snowstorm at times all day and eve. W.N.W. tem. about 28-38; did some chores at Uncle Samuel’s to-day in aft. Also early in eve. Had stopped there. Light S.S. all eve. All the clocks in U.S. set 1 hour ahead to-day same as last year. 31st. Cloudy. damp. W.N.W.; tem. About 30-47. Late in forenoon went to Uncle Samuel’s — did some chores. Had dinner there. Late in aft. went went [sic] down to Charlie’s. He is much better. Called at Mrs. Seavern’s store. Bought some tea and other things. Bought 2 oranges for Uncle Samuel. Did some chores and had supper there. Eve. cloudy. * * * If you are interested in viewing the diary in person in our library or have other questions about the collection, please visit the library or contact a member of the library staff for further assistance. *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.
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A Resolute & Brave Woman: The Education of Sarah White Shattuck

by Susan Martin, Processing Archivist & EAD Coordinator

The Shattuck family of Boston, Mass. consisted of father Lemuel, mother Clarissa (née Baxter), and five daughters: Sarah, Rebecca, Clarissa, Miriam, and Frances. The MHS recently acquired some papers of eldest daughter Sarah White Shattuck, primarily letters to and from family members while she was a student at Bradford Academy in Haverhill, Mass. The collection gives us not only a detailed picture of a young woman’s education in 19th-century New England, but also an intimate look at some interesting family dynamics.

Bradford Academy
Bradford Academy as it looked when Sarah attended (from A Memorial of Bradford Academy, 1870)

Bradford Academy, founded in 1803, was one of the premier schools for girls when Sarah began her studies there in April 1841 at the tender age of 13. Sarah’s letters include a lot of terrific detail about the school and its curriculum. Sarah learned philosophy, history, geography, algebra, chemistry, geometry (she was a big fan of Euclid), physiology, astronomy, French, and grammar and spelling (“these two studies they are the most particular with,” she said). There were prayers and Bible readings every morning.

This was a formative time for Sarah, both academically and socially. She seems to have flourished under the tutelage of several female role models, including the school’s teachers and especially its principal, Abigail C. Hasseltine. Sarah also took piano and singing lessons with Mary Noyes, the daughter of Deacon Daniel Noyes.

Sarah’s correspondents were her parents, her sisters, her uncle Daniel Baxter, and her aunt Sarah Baxter. The bulk of the letters, however, came from her father. Lemuel had little formal education himself, but had worked as a teacher, merchant, bookseller, publisher, and historian. He served on the Boston City Council and in the Massachusetts House of Representatives and was one of the founders of the MHS’s sister organization, the New England Historic Genealogical Society. (He was also a member of the MHS.) Unsurprisingly, Lemuel had high standards for his daughter’s education and high hopes for her success.

Lemuel advised Sarah on almost everything, particularly her courses and reading. Of botany, for example, he said, “there is no branch of knowledge—scientific knowledge I mean—better calculated to display the wonders of creation.” He also corrected her manners, at one point disapproving of certain “impudent expressions” and “unjust remarks” she’d made about other people. He critiqued her letters. He even had an opinion about the temperature of her room.

At times you feel sympathetic to Sarah for these well-meaning but incessant correctives from the paterfamilias. She couldn’t seem to catch a break. In one letter Lemuel would insist she work hard, and in the next warn her that working too hard may damage her health. However, Sarah was grateful for the opportunity to attend Bradford and never forgot the expense and trouble her parents were going to for her benefit.

When she complained of homesickness, Lemuel usually told her not to indulge it. But he wrote with great compassion on one particular occasion: Thanksgiving 1841. Sarah was staying at school for the holiday, and the few remaining students who occupied the mostly empty boarding house were girls she didn’t know well. She felt lonely and homesick to the point of tears. Lemuel wrote on Thanksgiving day to tell her how much the family missed her, too. Then he suggested she reach out to the other students, and his advice was kind and uncritical.

Cull all the sweets and beauties from all the flowers that dwell under your roof, and let the fragrance of your own character be manifest to all others. After all, dear Sarah, this incident in your life may have its uses to you. Think of it rightly – your dear father meant to do right – there you are – lonely to be sure for a few days, but a few days soon pass away. Think how important it is that our minds should be di[s]ciplined to some little trials – try and surmount all you now experience – Resolve that you will make the best of your situation – […] use all the power you may be able to command over your feelings to govern them – be a woman – behave like a resolute, a brave one.

Letter from Lemuel Shattuck to Sarah Shattuck, 25 Novmeber 1841
Excerpt of a letter from Lemuel Shattuck to Sarah White Shattuck, 25 November 1841

Sarah was only 14 years old, but this letter and others in the collection tell us a lot about their relationship. Lemuel may have scolded, but he was also very proud. He sometimes wrote to her about his own work and even asked her advice on the best school for her younger sister Rebecca. When Sarah worried about her exams, he encouraged her to be confident and to “overcome all diffidence […] there is no occasion for it in you.”

Unfortunately, the Shattuck family had its tragedies, as well, just like all of these old families. Two of the sisters died of consumption just a few months apart: the youngest sister Frances in 1850, at the age of 15, followed by 21-year-old Rebecca. Sarah wrote lengthy and moving tributes to both of them in her diary. (The collection also includes several letters by Rebecca.) Clarissa, the middle sister, died in 1858, 15 days after the birth of her third child. Lemuel died in 1859, and mother Clarissa in 1871.

Sarah married her first cousin, John Henry Shattuck, in 1849. The couple had at least one child, Lucy, before Sarah died on 4 February 1863 at the age of 35. Miriam lived until 1909, decades longer than the rest of her family.

I’ll let Lemuel have the last word. Here’s how he concluded one of his letters:

And now dear Sarah what shall I say further? If I say what I have so often said – love – love – love of all of us, sincere and ardent, is ever yours, it is but a repetition of the old story, but it is nevertheless as fresh and blooming as if it never had been told, and appears as a flame that never grows dim. O Sarah may you be returned to us in safety and in happiness and may you be prepared to enjoy or endure any event that may happen in all your future life.

Select references:

Barrows, Elizabeth A. A Memorial of Bradford Academy. Boston: Congregational S.S. and Publishing Society, 1870.

“Lemuel Shattuck.” Memorial Biographies of the New England Historic Genealogical Society: Towne Memorial Fund. Vol. III. Boston: New England Historic Genealogical Society, 1883. pp. 290-321.

Lemuel Shattuck papers, Massachusetts Historical Society.

Shattuck, Lemuel. Memorials of the Descendants of William Shattuck, the Progenitor of the Families in America That Have Borne His Name. Boston: Printed by Dutton and Wentworth for the family, 1855.

The MHS holds other material related to Bradford Academy, including printed items, papers of teacher and principal Rebecca Gilman, and papers of student Martha Dalton Gregg, a contemporary of Sarah’s.

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An Adams Tells All About Abigail

by Sara Georgini, The Adams Papers

When did you first hear the letters of John and Abigail Adams? Fashionable Bostonians could pin their first memory to an exact spot. Shortly after lunchtime on a January afternoon in 1838, two hundred curious guests swarmed into the Masonic Grand Lodge downtown. Braving the cold, they came to hear Charles Francis Adams (1807–1886), son and grandson of presidents, tell all about his famous family. He felt ready, even eager, to air a few memories. A month earlier, Charles had begun work on his lecture at the special request of the Massachusetts Historical Society, which hosted a series of talks around town. A studious researcher and a curator of the family archive, Charles wanted to share Abigail’s life story with a larger audience. He asked his father, John Quincy, for permission to narrate the private manuscripts in public. “My intention would be to use such of my grandmother’s letters most especially as would illustrate the female character of the age of the Revolution,” Charles wrote. “Of course, the selection must depend upon my discretion and there would be no publication.” When the query reached him, the senior Adams had retrenched in public service. He sent a hasty reply: “Use all the papers at your pleasure.” Charles dove into the project. Here is how her grandson chose to remember Abigail.

Letters of Mrs. Adams
Originally published in 1840, this bestselling work went through multiple editions: Letters of Mrs. Adams, the Wife of John Adams. With an Introductory Memoir by Her Grandson, Charles Francis Adams

Charles was a systematic reader. Back at the family farm in Quincy, the papers overflowed with love letters and state secrets. He plodded through the stacks, more or less chronologically. In constructing a narrative for his lecture, Charles stuck to the basic timeline of the Revolution. His first pick was an 8 Sept. 1774 letter from John to Abigail. The Massachusetts delegate wrote hurriedly from the Continental Congress: “It would fill Volumes, to give you an Idea of the scenes I behold and the Characters I converse with. We have so much Business, so much Ceremony, so much Company, so many Visits to recive and return, that I have not Time to write. And the Times are such, as render it imprudent to write freely.” In his lecture draft, Charles summarized what happened next in that chain of correspondence: how John Adams compared the Anglo-American politics of the day to those of Julius Caesar; how the Harvard-trained lawyer quoted Shakespeare’s lines on the “shallows” of bravery; how John often addressed Abigail as “Portia.” Charles stressed that John cherished his wife as a confidante and adviser.

Enter Abigail. Two decades after her death, the second First Lady commanded Boston’s biggest stage and reclaimed the nation’s imagination. The first Abigail letter that Charles read was sent to John, dated 24 May 1775, heralding the drumbeat of war. “I wish you was nearer to us. We know not what a day will bring forth, nor what distress one hour may throw us into,” Abigail wrote. “Heitherto I have been able to mantain a calmness and presence of Mind, and hope I shall, let the Exigency of the time be what they will.” Carefully, Charles reconstructed Abigail Adams as an emblem of republic motherhood, a woman who raised her children to guard and grow the nation. In his selection of manuscripts and public remarks, Charles sharply reoriented the Adams family’s political brand around Abigail’s legacy. Appealing to early Victorian views on Christian nurture, he emphasized that women’s domestic influence fueled the American Revolution. Like “light to the diamond,” moral virtue gave to the “political character of a nation all its lustre and its value,” Charles wrote. Women like his grandmother were blessed and burdened to provide it.

Charles Francis Adams carte de visite
Charles Francis Adams, Carte de visite by John & Chas. Watkins, 1862

Abigail Adams’s nature fascinated Charles, and he shared that awe with his audience for at least two hours. He wondered aloud: How did she balance private emotion and public duty? And what  might studying other women’s lives reveal to Americans about the “revolutionary spirit”? He did not include her eloquent plea to “Remember the Ladies,” but he certainly kept her message intact. Thanks to Abigail’s canon, Charles glimpsed a new field for citizens and scholars to explore. “All of the leading actors in the revolutionary drama had mothers or wives or intimate friends with whom they indulged in the expression of their genuine, unadulterated feelings,” Charles said. “And yet when we take a glance over what is now known to exist upon record of them, where do we find anything even tolerably satisfactory to reward our search?” At the first public reading of the Adams Papers, Charles Francis Adams neatly laid out many of the editorial challenges and opportunities that we face today as an editorial project. And his initial encounter with family history encouraged him, as an editor, to learn how to think between the documents. Sometimes his opinions and ideas manifested on the page, when he silently omitted or even “corrected” his grandparents’ words. Yet Charles was the first to impose meaningful order on the archive. He also took on the task of building a presidential library on Peacefield’s leafy grounds.

Did the crowd of 1838 lean forward a little bit more as they listened in on Abigail and John? Charles repeated his lecture to several keen audiences, relieved that his “experiment” was a hit. Heartened by his hard-won popularity as a man of letters, he began compiling a popular edition of Abigail’s correspondence. With a few tweaks, he repurposed his Massachusetts Historical Society talk for use in the introductory memoir. He reminded readers that Abigail’s letters offered a backstage pass to revolutionary drama, and that Americans would benefit from her story. For Charles, remembering Abigail held “double charms…painted by the hand of truth.”

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“Why cant I immortalize my name before morning?”: The Diaries of James Thomas Robinson

By Susan Martin, Processing Archivist & EAD Coordinator On February 20 1933, the U.S. Congress proposed the 21st Amendment to repeal Prohibition. I’d like to take advantage of this auspicious day to introduce you to one of the most entertaining collections here at the MHS. It’s not often that I laugh out loud at a collection, but I found myself doing just that when I cataloged the diaries of James Thomas Robinson of North Adams, Mass. To give you a taste—and to commemorate this 86th anniversary of the end of Prohibition—here’s what young Robinson wrote on the night of 16 May 1844:
I am in the old store with Quin[1], drunk! He is drunk also and trying to scribble in his journal. The fact is “old Quin” has got a cask of damn good brandy here, and we have been drawing on it, sucking it from the bung, through a spike stem. This would look like having a strong desire for liquor, but the fact is I wanted to see how it would feel to be drunk. I never was really cocked before, since I can remember. How curious I feel! My head swims, my body feels warm, I am top heavy. Quin is dashing away like a steam boat, though he dont know what in hell he is writing. […] Drunk! Drunk! Why in hell cant I be a Byron, or more! Why cant I immortalize my name before morning? I dont think much of this heavy drunk after all that is said about it. I dont think tis very pleasant, this allmighty dizzyness. I cant seem to write. S**t.
handwritten page of diary showing entry for Thursday, May 16
James Thomas Robinson’s diary, 16 May 1844
His handwriting is almost illegible by the end of the entry. I’m calling it “drunk-journaling.” The following morning, in neater handwriting, Robinson wrote:
It seems that I was drunk last night, from the preceeding page. Well I suppose it must be so, though I have no very distinct recollection of it, and now, on reflection, I cant say I am very proud of it, either as an instance of romance, or a circumstance of pleasure. No, on the whole I think it was a foolish freak, extreemely foolish, in this day of light and truth, and I dont think I shall cut such a caper again. To-day, as was to be expected, I’ve feel dull and spiritless. Slept on the chairs, eyes heavy and red, appetite gone.
handwritten page of diary showing entry for Friday, May 17
James Thomas Robinson’s diary, 17 May 1844
I’ve been wanting to blog about this collection for some time, but it’s hard to know where to start. Robinson was both a good writer and an interesting guy, so his diaries are chock full of terrific content and cover a wide range of subjects. When he had his “foolish freak” above, he was a 21-year-old student at Williams College and a great sower of wild oats. He described a number of salacious peccadillos and sexual experiences, and some scenes played out like slapstick comedy—in one close call, Robinson had to hide under a woman’s bed to escape detection. Robinson was sometimes infatuated, jealous, melodramatic, alternately thoughtless and empathetic, manipulative and manipulated—in other words, fairly typical! In fact, there’s something very modern and “unplugged” about his diaries that makes them distinctive. Equally fascinating are later entries, which contain some introspection and reflections on himself as a younger man. What else is there, you ask? There’s family drama (he hated his stepmother and resented his half-brother), local gossip (his cousin Harriet was jilted by Henry L. Dawes, later a U.S. congressman), a political awakening (Robinson became a member of the anti-slavery Free Soil Party), and eventual maturity (he developed a close friendship and great admiration for his sister-in-law, poet Caroline Atherton Mason). In his diaries, Robinson is often likeable, or at least relatable, and at other times irritating and hypocritical. For all his genuine pity for Harriet’s heartbreak, his own treatment of women leaves a lot to be desired. Case in point: poor Lucy, a young woman who apparently worked for the family and with whom Robinson had a fling. The power dynamic worked in his favor, and while for him the relationship was casual, she felt differently. He eventually realized this and regretted his insensitivity. One more thing makes discussing this collection a challenge: it’s difficult to find a family-friendly passage to quote! Robinson liked his language a little blue, and his free use of four-letter words is also unusual in 19th-century material. Personally I find his conversational style endearing. The five diaries of James Thomas Robinson date from 1842 to 1853, with gaps. Robinson graduated from Williams College in 1844 and worked as a lawyer in North Adams, like his father. He served in several public positions, including Massachusetts state senator and judge of probate and insolvency for Berkshire County, and co-owned and wrote for the local paper. He and his wife Clara (Briggs) Robinson had three sons. He died in 1894 at the age of 72. [1]My best guess is that “Quin” was Josiah Quincy Robinson, Robinson’s first cousin once removed. He was a few months older than Robinson.
Posted in From Our Collections

Brief Sketches from Danvers Alms House in the 1850s

By Brendan Kieran, Library Assistant In The Poorhouse: America’s Forgotten Institution (Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, 2005), David Wagner writes that before the 20th century, when large-scale federal programs such as Social Security and Medicare were introduced, government social welfare efforts were largely local, and poorhouses, also called almshouses, were institutions that served many people (3-7). The MHS holds a register of paupers at Danvers Alms House (Peabody, Mass.), which records the people who were in the institution between 1841 and 1859. Adino Page, the superintendent at the almshouse between 1850 and 1859, was mostly responsible for the entries in the register. As noted in the catalog record, the entries in the register list names, residences, entrance and departure dates, ages, and other information about them and their stays in the almshouse. The volume provides a glimpse into a 19th century Massachusetts almshouse, and documents the diversity of people admitted to the institution, the varying reasons for admission, and the experiences of those individuals. One individual documented in the register is a 32 year-old man from Virginia named George Vannen. He entered the almshouse on March 11, 1858, and left two days later. Page lists Lowell as Vannen’s destination, and guesses that Vannen had escaped from slavery.
detail of register page with handwritten notes
Notes in entry for George Vannen
Luis Paul, age 20, and Mary Paul, age 19, both of Maine, entered the almshouse on 6 June 1852 and left the following day. Page notes that they are “Indians of the Penobscot Tribe.”
page from register showing columns of handwritten notes
Entries for Luis Paul and Mary Paul
Page’s opinions of the people under his care come through in a number of entries. An example is the entry noting the 2 July 1856 admittance of Mary Skinner of Lynnfield. Page notes that Skinner was engaged in prostitution [one of multiple women in the register with such a note], and follows this with “but good natured.” He does not extend similar remarks to Elisabeth Fuller of Danvers, who was in the almshouse between 1 January 1855 and 6 August 1855; he writes that she “is a bad character.”
Page from register of paupers at Danvers Alms House listing people who were there as of 1 January 1854
Page includes comments on a number of entries to note physical and intellectual disabilities as well as mental illnesses, using the language of his time. Most of the people with listed mental illnesses are women. 40 year-old Eben Smith and 36 year-old Marth M. Grant are two individuals who were in the almshouse as of 1 January 1854 and were noted as “Insane” by Page. In one entry, for 49 year-old Lydia Smith, Page describes at least a perception of gender nonconformity. He writes that Smith “is neither male nor female.”
detail of register page with handwritten notes
Entry for Lydia Smith
One particularly tragic entry describes the death of Dean Carty, a 28 year-old Irish immigrant (one of many Irish immigrants listed in the register) who entered the almshouse on April 6, 1850, and died three days later. Page writes that “he became delirious, leaped from the window, 2nd story, he lived about 20 [minutes] after being taken up.”
detail of register page with handwritten note about Dean Carty
Notes in entry for Dean Carty
An account that does document longevity tells the story of Joshua Daniels. Page writes a lengthy entry about him:
Joshua Daniels, Died [February] 19th, 1850–Mr. Daniels was a native of Great Britain, was a soldier in the British army, served under [General] Burgoyne–was taken prisoner,  by the Americans, in 1777, as he informed. He would not return to the English. [H]e lived  in the towns of Billerica, Beverly, Middleton, and other neighboring towns until about the  year 1807, when he came to Danvers and married a Widow, Putney, who had some  property. Mr. Daniels was first sentenced to the home for intemperance, in 1814, and continued to sentenced [sic] here accordingly, untill [sic] May 17th 1826, he was committed as a pauper, he remained untill Death, at the age of about 104 years.
lower half of register page showing handwritten notes
Description of the life of Joshua Daniels by Adino Page
Wagner writes that “[d]eeply intertwined with the history of poorhouses . . . is not only the history of poverty but of old age, sickness, physical and psychological disability, alcoholism, child welfare, widowhood, single parenthood, treatment of deviance, unemployment, and economic cycles” (3). This register provides ample opportunities for investigation of these topics from the perspective of one Massachusetts almshouse superintendent in the mid-19th century. The MHS holds some other records of almshouses that operated in Massachusetts in the 19th century, including the Boston Overseers of the Poor records, the Charlestown Overseers of the Poor records, the Overseers of the poor of Haverhill (Mass.) records, the Newton Overseers of the Poor account book, and the Roxbury almshouse records. If you would like to view the Register of paupers at Danvers Alms House or any of these other almshouse records, please feel free to visit the MHS library and explore our holdings!
Posted in From Our Collections

Boston to Bombay*: Historical Connections between Massachusetts and India

by Rakashi Chand, Senior Library Assistant On Saturday, 2 February 2019, 45 people gathered at the MHS for Boston to Bombay: Historical Connections between Massachusetts and India. This special event focused on the historical connections between Boston and India as illustrated by manuscripts and artifacts in the collection of the MHS. After the Revolution, ships from Boston and Salem sailed for India on a regular basis bringing back not only goods but also ideas, fashion, religion and philosophy. These connections continued through the centuries and remain strong today.
Reception for Boston to Bombay program
Reception for Boston to Bombay program
Boston and India: 18th Century Connections Several items on display showcased the interactions between Boston and India in the 18th century. A bottle of tea leaves collected after the Boston Tea Party represented the North American role in being forced to fund the British East Indian Company. Three miniatures portraits were on display. One, from 1818, depicts Major General David Ochterlony, who was born in Boston in 1758. Ochterlony went in India as a cadet by 1777 and rose quickly in military ranks. He was called the “Conqueror of Nepal” for his victorious campaigns and given the title “Defender of State” by Shah Alam. Two others, done in watercolor on ivory, of Emperor Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal by an unidentified 18th century artist were also on display. Benjamin Joy of Newburyport, Mass. was appointed the first U. S. Counsel to India by President George Washington. Although the British refused to acknowledge him as Counsel he remained as an “agent” in India for three years. Visitors were able to view Joy’s sea chest. It was made in India and accompanied him on his voyage back to Boston.
Sea Chest belonging to Benjamin Joy
The Ice Trade Boston’s most lucrative trade with India was ice. Ships full of ice cut from the ponds of Massachusetts would sail across the globe to ice houses in Bombay and Calcutta. Frederic Tudor of Boston, known as “the Ice King,’ became very wealthy due to the ice trade. Items on display to illustrate the ice trade included a print of the ice being cut from Spy Pond; a print of the harbor at Calcutta; a copy of Walden; and a letter from Calvin W. Smith, an agent of the Tudor Ice House, to his mother in Boston from Bombay. John Eliot Parkman in India John Eliot Parkman, brother of historian Francis Parkman, went to India in 1855. He not only marked his travels on a wonderful 1855 map of India, he also wrote about his travels and excitement in letters home. He even painted some of the people he met along the way. Visitors were able to see a travel map and a watercolor painting by Parkman as well as a letter from Parkman to his mother:
Calcutta February 22nd 1855 “My dear Mother, “…We have been living there now about a fortnight and like it better and better everyday. The house is about 3 minutes from town, almost on the banks of the river, and in the pleasantest place near Calcutta, we have a large garden and a tank in it almost as large as the Frog Pond, and beside these advantages two dogs and a billiard table. there is one drawback however to a new comes in the shape of jackals who drift about to the house every night and gangs above 50 and howl like so many rampant Devils- , it is unnecessary to add that I slept but little the first three nights but I have since got used to them. Mr Bullard who has just come down from up country is living with us but goes to Paris by the steamer, he has told me such stories about Delhi, Agra and half a dozen other places that I am well-nigh crazed and probably shall remain in that condition till my turns come to travel. (!) Mr. Lewis has given me $50 a month but you have no idea what an expensive place this is, I was insane enough to think when I was at home that living here was remarkably economical, but I have since learnt better (at my cost of course). I can live in Boston for half the money I am obliged to spend here. Clothes are very cheap but then you have to have so many, that it comes to about as much, if not more than it does in Boston…”
Bostonians Travel to India William Scollay kept a journal while travelling and studying in India from14 November 1811 to 28 October 1812. The journal includes descriptions of his stay in Calcutta, impressions of the landscape, and most interestingly, Hindi classes taken at the College of Fort William. Scollay fills the pages of the travel journal with vocabulary lessons. The Log of the Bark Hannah Sprague kept by Horatio Stockton Rotch in 1845 is one of the many ships logs in the collections of the MHS.  The log was kept on a trading voyage from Boston to Madras and Calcutta, India. Entries record longitude and latitude, course, winds, and distance traveled and narratives kept at Madras and Calcutta. Letters from India A selection of 19th-century letters focused on social justice and the link between Indian and Boston reformers were on display. Raja RomMohan Roy, known as the “Father of the Indian Renaissance,” wrote to William Ward, Jr. of Medford on 5 February 1824. Roy was a social reformer who criticized the Caste System, polygamy, and the treatment of widows. He also advocated for women’s right to inherit property. In a 24 September 1887 letter to Mrs. Andrews, Pandita Ramabai indicates that she will stop in Boston on route to Manchester NH, as part of a national tour. A group of Bostonians formed the American Ramabai Association, to support the work of Pundita Ramabai as she tried to create a home and school for child widows in India. In a letter by K. L. Nulkar to the American Ramabai Association in Boston, he advocates for the rights of the child widows in the care of the home to practice their own religion. He reminds the American benefactors that these schools are secular. Photographs of K. L. Nulkar and his wife and child were displayed alongside the letter.
Letter from K. L. Nulkar to the American Ramabai Association in Boston and photographs of Nulkar and his wife and child
It was a pleasure to welcome so many new visitors to the MHS! If interested in learning more about items related to India in the collection, please contact the Library. *The use of the name Bombay in the title of the event was derived from historic texts and should be taken in the 19th-century context.
Posted in From Our Collections