By Susan Martin, Senior Processing Archivist

This is the eighth installment in a series. Click here to read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, and Part VII.

Thanks to those of you who’ve been following the story of Pvt. Howard J. Ford of the 43rd Massachusetts Infantry Regiment here at the Beehive. I’ve enjoyed doing this deep dive into his Civil War experiences, as told in his own words.

The weeks following my previous post consisted of alternating periods of dull routine and bustling activity. Howard’s company was stationed at New Bern, N.C., and was involved in various patrols, marches, and skirmishes in the area, including the successful defense of New Bern on the one-year anniversary of its capture by the Union and a fight at Blounts Creek. After the latter, Howard confessed that he was so tired, “If I was 50 last night, I was 70 years old tonight.”

There are a few general themes that recur in Howard’s journal during this time.

Moments of Quiet

I’ve often felt the most moving passages in soldiers’ reminiscences are those moments of peace and quiet juxtaposed against the violence. For example, the day after Howard killed a Confederate soldier, he wrote, “I saw one little violet in bloom on the battlefield. It was the first wild one I have seen and I will send it home.” He also described standing so still on picket duty at dawn that birds approached within a few feet of him. Of course, nothing made a soldier more wistful than letters from home; Howard missed his “good wife,” “darling boy” (3 years), and “little daughter” (7 months).

The Troops’ Resourcefulness

Howard attended a party in camp featuring music, recitations, and even ventriloquism. He was “astonished” by one musician in particular, who had crafted a violin from a hard tack box! “As to the workmanship,” he said, “no one would have suspected its humble origin. The glue even was made in camp.” According to Edward Rogers’ history of the regiment, “a camp of Yankees is a jack-knife paradise” (p. 128). Many of the soldiers were skilled artisans, after all. As I discussed in a previous post, Howard and friends built their own barracks from the ground up. Howard also made a ring for his wife out of a piece of bone.

Civilians and Soldiers

Civilian visits to camp, like one in March 1863 by the proprietor of the Boston Journal, were pleasant interludes, but also jarring ones. Howard wrote that, “A person in citizen’s dress looks as odd to us, as a monkey does to the children, when it is dressed up in a skirt and cap.” Edward Rogers agreed: “Amid warlike scenes,” civilians looked, well, ridiculous. “We were at home: they were not. Our individuality had been merged in each other until every man felt, in some respects, as though he had the strength of a thousand” (p. 135).

Cpl. James K. Odell

Howard’s admiration for James Kelley Odell is clear. Odell, a corporal in Howard’s company, was one of a large family originally from New Hampshire. He’d lost both of his parents by the time he was 21, as well as an older brother who’d accidentally shot himself as a teenager. Now Odell was 29 and had a wife and child back home. Here’s what Howard had to say about him: “I well know that he would stick by me if I met with harm, no matter what the consequences were.” On a grueling 15-mile march, in spite of weak lungs, “Odell stood it like a hero.” James K. Odell died in 1918 at the age of 84.

Tricks of the Trade

I enjoyed reading about the tactics used by soldiers to outwit the enemy. One night on picket duty, Howard, waiting silently in the dark by the side of the road, was more amused than scared when he heard curiously similar cow bells ringing from opposite sides of the road, as well as suspiciously human-like roosters. (“Perhaps the reason he did not crow any better was that he was somewhat sleepy.”) Howard also introduced me to “Quaker cannons,” logs mounted on cart wheels and painted like cannons to intimidate the enemy. Both the Union and the Confederacy used them.

I hope you’ll join me for the next installment!

By Susan Martin, Senior Processing Archivist

This is the seventh installment in a series. Click here to read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, and Part VI.

This post contains descriptions of graphic violence.

In this series about the Civil War journal of Howard J. Ford, I’ve argued that Howard’s journal paints a particularly vivid picture of the war. His use of sensory details makes it feel like you’re right there with him. Today I’d like to focus exclusively on his entry for 20 February 1863, an entry that begins: “Today is a great day in my term of service as a soldier.” In it, Howard describes a chilling encounter with an unnamed Confederate soldier that illustrates, in stark terms, the brutality of war.

When we left off a few weeks ago, Howard’s company (Company I of the 43rd Massachusetts Infantry Regiment) was enjoying some quiet days of picket duty at Evans’ Mill, not far from New Bern, North Carolina. Then Howard was selected to go on a scouting mission.

After dinner the Captain requested Odell through a sargent [sic] to take 4 trusty men and examine a certain road […] He selected of course, first, his friend H.J.F. then Mr. Snow and then 2 young men by the name of Brooks and Ashworth. (Lowell boys.)

The scouting group consisted of Cpl. James K. Odell; Harold himself (H.J.F.); Pvt. Russell L. Snow, who we met in Part VI; Pvt. Sager Brooks, an immigrant from England; and the youngest of the five, 19-year-old Pvt. Charles Ashworth.

We entered the road at the picket station, found a blocade [sic] all right, and pushed through till we reached the Pollocksville road without seeing anything suspicious. We were now keeping our eyes open for “signs” of rebels when we discovered tracks in the road. […] Now we were thoroughly awake and proceeded on slowly, examining the ground and the country round us with great care.

It wasn’t long before things went sideways.

We suddenly came on a Southerner crawling across the road on his belly. […] When he found himself discovered and that we were gaining on him he fired on us from a concealed weapon. Being 5 against one we seemed to have no fear of harm coming to us. Our bayonets were in our sheathes but our guns were loaded yet we did not seem to think of it but rushed to the attack determined to make way him as quickly as possible. Snow […] led the attack with cries of “kill him” and gave the old sneak a tremendous blow right in the middle of the back. I felt for an instant only some pangs of conscience at killing him but that is our business just now and my courage returning I instantly followed Snow with a crack on the head from my own rifle. I felt that it was but a merciful act as after Snow’s blow the reb was speechless though evidently in a suffering state. I repeated the blow on the head and he lay lifeless in the road.

Keep in mind, Howard was sending this journal home to his family in installments. In my experience, this kind of explicit account was rare for the time. Most soldiers shielded their families from the gruesome details—or avoided discussing them for reasons of their own mental health. Howard continued,

We were obliged to leave the mangled body where it fell for the present & continue to carry out the instructions of the Captain. The corporal who could hardly conceal his satisfaction at the result of his scout thus far, now led the way into the woods on the right.

Interestingly, Howard returned to the subject the next day.

I hope my relatives will not be alarmed at the dangerous position they may think we got into the other day. I hope you will approve the manner in which we killed the snake.

Howard volunteered for several more scouting trips in the days following this “great” and “exciting” event. On 1 March 1863, his company returned to Camp Rogers at New Bern. Stay tuned to the Beehive for more of Howard’s story.

By Susanna Sigler, Processing Assistant

I’ll be the first to confess it: I’m a notebook fiend.

It started innocently enough. Now, the collection I’ve amassed (and several times purged) should be enough to sustain me through at least ten Great American Novels. If only, of course, I actually wrote in any of these books for more than a few months at a time. As the child of a self-proclaimed Moleskine addict and a collector (and actual filler) of sketchbooks, I had no chance.

This is all to say that when I came across a set of 18th century ladies’ memorandum books in the Price-Osgood-Valentine papers, I was delighted and intrigued.

Printed in England and marketed towards upper-class women as a sort of daily planner, these books offered space to keep track of dates and household expenses as well as advice on topics such as marriage, managing staff (servants), parenting, and fashion.

Additional sections vary from book to book; one might include the line of succession to the English crown and currency tables, another the steps to popular dances and the songs that accompany them. My personal favorite is a section on monthly meal planning with a page of dinner ideas–“tripe fry’d,” anyone? In collections services at the MHS, we also found hilarious a section of riddles for which the reader had to wait until next year’s edition to find out the answers.

These planners offer a glimpse into the lives of the women who bought and used them, what was expected of them by English society at large, how they were being told to live their lives and with what responsibilities of person and home.

One essay, printed at the beginning of one of these books, is titled “Maxims for the LADIES concerning The ART of PLEASING.”

A few select quotes (I have taken the liberty of changing the 18th century f’s to s’s):

“It seems as if the Author of Nature, by giving Beauty of Person, and Softness of Manners to the Female Sex, intended their principal Business should be to please.”

“Modesty, is a young Maiden, is Sensibility check’d by Delicacy. It is the first and most pleasing Virtue of a Woman, as it is a proof her heart is capable of Love, and a Presumption that it will continue pure and uncorrupted. She who has no Sensibility, can have no Modesty.

“Cultivate in your Breast the Virtues of Mildness and Good-nature; for depend upon it, there is no Fiend that a Man would not sooner choose to be tormented with, than with that hideous Creature call’d a Woman of Spirit. A Woman of Spirit is a fallen Angel chang’d into a fury.”

I will resist the urge to get the last one printed on a t-shirt.

Most strikingly, aside from their language, these essays are almost exactly identical to newspaper articles I’ve read from the 1930s through the 1950s as well as women’s magazines through the mid-aughts, and, dare I say, the social media of today – the “divine feminine” of certain slices of the so-called wellness industry, and the “girl dinners” of TikTok.

The next essay, “Maxims for Wives,” takes on more of a knowing tone, like it’s being written with a wink. “Art thou marry’d?” it asks. “Alas poor Woman, thou hast parted with thy Liberty!” However, it does not stray from its main message. “[T]here are Ways and Means to make this Lord of thine the kindest and most agreeable Friend thou could’st have had.” It ends with the following advice: “Observe the Temper of your Husband: conform to it when it is good, and calmly submit where you think it otherwise, and you will have learnt the hardest Lesson in the Art of Pleasing.”

Physically, the books were once beautiful objects–they still are, although the leather is now worn and the ribbons frayed. It made me yearn for an updated version: a pocket-sized planner with good paper and a nice cover, with space for notes as well as helpful information. For instance, train timetables readily at hand (though maybe we could have a reliable train schedule to start), some book or movie recommendations, or essays on how not to abandon a journal two weeks into starting it. The most comforting aspect of these books, I’ve found, is that none of them have been completely filled.

The books can be viewed here at the MHS as part of the Price-Osgood-Valentine papers.

By Meg Szydlik, Visitor Services Coordinator

As this very rainy summer winds down and fall peeks its head out from around the corner, I find myself thinking wistfully about going to the beach. Growing up in NJ meant that summer was full of trips to the shore and the boardwalk. I formed a strong affinity for the beach. This wet and dreary summer has made taking a trip out to one of the many beaches around Boston difficult. Instead, I decided to take a virtual visit to some of the beach scenes that the MHS has in its archives. There are quite a few! It’s not quite as good as getting the sand between my toes, but it is delightful to see people from all different times enjoying themselves at the beach just like I do.

Heather Rockwood wrote a blog last year about some of Boston’s beaches but these are far from the only beaches in the MHS collections. One such example is the image of a bathing beach in the North End. The little boy in the foreground drew me in immediately with the mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks at the camera and the mostly empty beach in the background. He is not alone, though. On the other side of the beach, some more people are in view, including a group that looks like they are playing some kind of game and an older pair looking out at the water. However, instead of the bathing suits I grew up wearing, everyone is fully dressed in normal clothing. Despite that, this is very recognizable as a scene at a beach today, just as the crowded beach labeled as “probably in Boston area” from the same collection elicits a sense of salt air and giggling as children run through the crowds of people and umbrellas. Despite being from the 1910s, the image is familiar and nostalgic to me more than 100 years later.

Now that’s what I call beach!

Beach paintings are also a theme I recognize. I love the paintings of blue skies and oceans and charming beaches that show up in MHS collections, including a collection by Henry Adams. A watercolor of a beach in the Caribbean is especially interesting to me. It’s not terribly sophisticated but it captures the sense of peace that I always feel at the beach. Adams also created sketches of people and palm trees on the beach. It almost makes me want to dive in myself! The romance of sunny beaches in faraway lands is enticing and looking through these examples is delightful.

If you haven’t been to the beach in a while, looking through some of the MHS collections can be a great way to “go to the beach” virtually. I know I enjoyed flipping through all the beautiful pictures! If beaches are not your scene, though, the Beehive has explored plenty of other places, including the White Mountains, New Zealand, Europe, and cross-country trips. Explore our archives and blogs to plan your virtual vacation!

By Susan Martin, Senior Processing Archivist

This is the sixth installment in a series. Click here to read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, and Part V.

We return to the story of Pvt. Howard J. Ford of the 43rd Massachusetts Infantry, as told in his Civil War journal at the MHS.

On 21 December 1862, after ten days of hard fighting and marching in the Goldsboro Expedition, the 43rd Regiment returned to New Bern, North Carolina, just in time for Christmas. What followed was a period of relative quiet for Howard. Instead of writing about bullets whizzing over his head, he was free to write about—what else?—food! For example, on Christmas day, Howard had a dinner of hard tack, salt beef, sweet potatoes, and cracker pudding. For supper, he ate boiled rice.

He also had time to reflect on his recent experiences in battle, writing,

Some may wonder how I felt while the balls and shells run across my back, and I knew not but that the next minute would be my last. I admit that I had rather been at home. But still I felt cool and knew everything that passed. […] I could only think of portions of the 91st Psalm. “A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand but it shall not come nigh thee.[”]

You can tell how relieved he was to be out of immediate danger. He took walks to local gardens and wrote with great appreciation of the natural world, the smell of English violets, the roses “bursting out.” He noticed the many beautiful birds wintering around New Bern, including robins, blackbirds, and woodpeckers, and was amused one morning to be awakened by a rooster. The woods teemed with game, and the river flowed “mostly without a ripple.”

On 11 January 1863, Howard’s company was assigned picket duty about seven miles south of New Bern at a place called Evans’ Mill, formerly the plantation of Col. Peter G. Evans. Its job was to protect the operation of the mills. Howard drew a detailed map of the location.

Personally, I think the “Impassible Swamps” (at the top right) sound like something out of Tolkien. Notice, also, the row of buildings along the bottom labeled “Negro quarters formerly.”

Howard was bunking with three other soldiers: his brother George and two fellow Cantabrigians, Pvt. Russell L. Snow and Cpl. James K. Odell. When the four men were assigned the “meanest” of the barracks, they decided to rebuild from the ground up. Fortunately, Pvt. Snow was a carpenter, and they finished in just over a week. They were proud of their “little hen house” and enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in a bunk and sitting at an actual table to write letters. Russell L. Snow, incidentally, would go on to build many buildings in and around Cambridge after the war.

But even in the relative comfort of camp, the life of a soldier was hard. Picket duty was particularly nerve-wracking, standing at alert for hours, fearing every night-time noise presaged an attack, “a twig crack here, a limb break there, a yell – a screech – a howl – a cry like a baby.” By now, Howard was accustomed to hardship and usually tried to make the best of things, but he had lost all patience for empty talk of patriotism.

I cant help thinking of Mr. Mason, Richard H. Dana or any other of our big guns who think it a fine thing to be one of those “who fought, bled and died” for the country, how patriotic they would look lugging down Magazine Street all day wood and water for the cook house, or perhaps taking their turn at washing the dirty pans and pails […] A person ought to have practical experience in those things of which he talks. Nothing like cold toes or a hungry stomach to make ones patriotism dwindle down.

In my next post, I’ll tell you what happened on 20 February 1863, what Howard described as “a great day in my term of service as a soldier.”

By Heather Rockwood, Communications Manager

When I am taking a long drive, I find ways to amuse myself, such as counting how many log cabins I see or catching snatches of the mooing and neighing farm animals or singing songs at the top of my lungs. I’ve started to notice a similar tendency as I look through the MHS’s archival collection. My latest focus has been hairstyles of the past and how many different or repeated ones I can find.  A number of these styles made me chuckle, and I hope they also bring you a smile.

The only hairdo in this selection of styles that uses the subject’s actual hair and not a wig is A. Alfaro, who had his photograph taken in Washington, DC, on 28 June 1911. I love how the swoops of his hair above his forehead match the swoops of his elegant mustache.

This engraving of John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, shows an older man wearing a very long wig. Because I am a lifelong Star Wars fan, I can’t stop seeing Darth Vader’s helmet in this wig!

Caption: This wig, belonging to Henry Bromfield, came to the MHS with all its accoutrements. Wigs were a lot of work to care for and maintain, and they were made of human hair and horsehair. It took a lot of effort and expendable income to be in style!

One of my favorite hairstyles of the MHS collection—featured in the recent Our Favorites exhibition―is Lucy Flucker Knox’s wig, which could rival Marie Antoinette’s wigs. The part that amuses me with each new viewing of the image is how the hat defies gravity in its precarious perch atop a towering hairdo!

By Rakashi Chand, Reading Room Supervisor

On August 1, 1878, thousands gathered at Faneuil Hall in Boston to fight for Free Love.   

A century before the sexual revolution of the 1960’s, Ezra and Angela Heywood were leading a movement to fight for the rights of women, against the oppression and constraints of marriage, and for sexual self-governance. But, how did 19th century Boston react to these ideas? For some, it was an eye-opening revelation, and they turned out in droves at the ‘Indignation Meeting’ to protest the arrest of Ezra Heywood on obscenity charges. For others, such ideas needed to be stopped by any means possible. Hence the New England Society for the Suppression of Vice was born. A precursor to the Watch and Ward Society, the Society for the Suppression of Vice was determined to enforce moral policing of society.  

Ezra Heywood was on the road to a career as a minister when he became disaffected with organized religion and its control of people’s private lives. In 1865, he married Angela Tilden of Worcester, MA, a radical feminist. Following the Civil War, the Ezra and Angela began a life-long fight for women’s rights. While they believed in long-term monogamous unions, they argued that the institution of marriage was nothing more than a contract meant to subdue and control women. They advocated for a woman’s right to choose in areas like sexual relations, birth control, and abortion. In 1872, they launched The Word, a “Free Love” publication sent out to like-minded people across the country. People who read the journal were grouped with Ezra and Angela as anarchists. 

By circulating the journal by mail, Ezra Heywood was in knowing violation of the Comstock Laws, a set of anti-obscenity laws lobbied for by U. S. Postal Inspector Anthony Comstock and passed by Congress in 1873. As a result, Heywood was arrested, imprisoned, and in June 1878 sentenced to two years hard labor in the Dedham Jail. In protest to his imprisonment, the National Liberal League organized the “Indignation Meeting” at Faneuil Hall. While most of the people who turned out were there to defend free speech, some were also there to support “Free Love” as defined by the Heywoods, and vilified by Comstock.  The rally at Faneuil Hall was enough to convince President Rutherford B. Hayes to pardon Ezra Heywood and secure his release from prison.  

On May 28, 1878, a group of Bostonians gathered in the vestry of the Park Street Church and resolved to establish a New England Society for the Suppression of Vice, taking inspiration from none other than Anthony Comstock who served as the secretary of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice. The MHS holds New England Society for the Suppression of Vice record book, 1878-1888, which documents some of their activities. 

The records of the society were kept by the secretary, Frederick Baylies Allen, and describe the society’s work to ban books, curtail sex work and gambling, juxtapose themselves in schools, libraries, and courts, and to stop work of people like Ezra and Angela Heywood, whose agitation for women’s rights and autonomy was seen not only as radical, but as anarchical.  

The record book begins with a set of resolutions that praise Comstock for his efforts to curtail the spread of “impure literature” and to protect “our youth from those who would defile their innocence…” 

“Resolutions (May 28^th 1878.)  

First.  Resolved: that the hearty thanks of this community are due to Mr. Anthony Comstock, (Secretary of the N. Y, So. For the Suppression of Vice) for his efficient and untiring labors in the extermination of impure literature, in the protection of our youth from those who would defile their innocence, in the condign punishment of the unprincipled offenders, and the brave and unflinching defence of public morals.  

Second.  Resolved: that the circulation of sensational and demoralizing literature among the young has assumed such alarming proportions that it may be characterized as a national evil, calling for the wisest and most earnest cooperation of all good citizens for its suppression or reformation.” 

Following the August rally at Faneuil Hall and Pres. Hayes’s subsequent pledge to free Ezra Heywood, the NESSV made it their goal to block his release. On December 10, 1878, secretary of the society Allen records that 

“Messrs. French and Allen were appointed committee to prepare a petition against the release of Ezra Heywood from prison.” 

And at the society’s regular monthly meeting on December 31, the minutes record that  

Upon report of the Committee [French and Allen] to consider a petition with regard to Ezra D. Heywood’s imprisonment, it was moved and carried that a Com. be appointed to furnish facts to the Aldermen in view of the proposed request for the use of Faneuil Hall for a testimonial to Mr. Heywood. Messrs. Whiting and French were appointed as this committee. 

The minutes of the following month include mention of the work of Whiting and French, as well as some of the expanding activities of the society 

“…the committee appointed to prepare the draft of a State Law for the more efficient suppression of Vice, made a favorable report of progress. Their report was accepted and they were requested to complete their work. The Report of the committee, appointed to resist the granting of Faneuil Hall to the friends of Ezra D. Heywood for a public Reception was made and the committee discharged…” 

Later records of the NESSV demonstrate their attempts to force the Boston Public Library to censor books, and to push for the conviction of booksellers in the city for carrying works that the society deemed inappropriate. At a meeting of the society on December 4, 1882, it was  

*Moved and carried that the Agent proceed at once to obtain legal Evidence of the Sale of [Walt] Whitman’s Book- “Leaves of Grass”, sufficient to secure the conviction of the Booksellers dealing in it. 

*It was then voted that the consent of All the Booksellers shall be sought to agree not to keep or sell said book: – This to be done in the name of the Society over the Signature of the Prest. And the Sec’y… 

The NESSV grew stronger in subsequent years, gaining more supporters and hiring additional agents to carry out their decrees, the society taking it upon itself to decide what was good and what needed to be banned in Boston. In 1891, the NESSV was renamed the Watch and Ward Society, an organization that lasted through much of the 20^th century, finally dissolving in 1975. 

After serving six months during his first term in prison and receiving his pardon from Pres. Hayes, Ezra Heywood was arrested and jailed four more times as he continued to fight for the rights of women and laborers, always pushing for equality. During his last stint in prison, Ezra contracted tuberculosis and, less than a year after his release, died in 1892. 

Visit the library to look more closely at the New England Society for the Suppression of Vice records.  

***** 

Further reading on Ezra Heywood 

• Meet Massachusetts’ Most Famous 19th Century Individualist Anarchist and Free Love Advocate (wgbh.org)  

• Free Love Supporters Protest at Faneuil Hall (massmoments.org)  
• Proceedings of the Indignation Meeting Held in Faneuil Hall, Thursday Eveni… – Google Books   
• Cupids Yokes [Another journal published by Heywood]