by Brandon McGrath-Neely, Library Assistant

The holdings of the MHS often tell the authentic stories of real figures such as Revolutionary heroes, 18^th century women laborers, and helmet-wearing air raid survivors. A smaller group of materials deal with more mysterious subjects, like strange voices calling from the waters of Boston in 1634. In these cases, it can be difficult to know what really happened, what was misunderstood, and what was invented. A recent question of these less tangible materials has forced the staff to admit: The MHS has a giant problem.

I should clarify – the problem isn’t giant in scale. The problem is about Giants. Several materials describe these tall, powerful creatures of myth and legend, but they can’t agree on what Giants are like! A brief survey of the Giants of MHS will show how conflicted the archival voices are on this subject.

For some authors, Giants are gargantuan monsters of violence and treachery. Pulling from older British and Biblical mythology, these Giants are the biggest of bullies. An 1817 tale describes Woglog the Giant, who kidnaps children who stay outside past sunset and tries to crack them “as one does a walnut.” In this case, the Giant was used to teach children a lesson: “Little boys should never loiter about in the fields nor even in the streets after dark. […] So must all other little boys and girls, or nobody will love them.”[1] An 1809 retelling of “Jack and the Beanstalk” likewise depicts Giants as murderous evildoers who chant, “Fe, fa, fan, I smell the blood of an Englishman; If he be alive, or if he be dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.”[2] An 1882 version of the same tale complicates the story – in this telling, the Giant killed Jack’s father and then dies trying to kill Jack.[3]

Yet both earlier and later texts feature Giants who are far more caring and gentle. In Jonathan Swift’s 1726 classic political satire, Gulliver’s Travels, Lemuel Gulliver meets a society of Giants after washing up on the island of Brobdingnag. Though they aren’t perfect, these Giants live in a rather simple, peaceful society. The King of the Brobdingnagians disdains politics and prefers agriculture: “[W]hoever could make two ears of corn, or two blades of grass, to grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind, and do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of politicians put together.”[4] The men decide that the Giants must be from an ancient civilization of humanity, and that as humans became more obsessed with political maneuvering and deadly technology, they shrank in size.

130 years later, the author Christopher Pearse Cranch also depicted Giants as heartfelt, tender creatures. In The Last of the Huggermuggers, A Giant Story, the protagonist also washes up on an island inhabited by a pair of Giants, Mr. and Mrs. Huggermugger. Though he initially fears them, he quickly discovers that they are gentle, parental figures who love shellfish and their home: “The Huggermuggers were not wicked and blood-thirsty. How different from the monsters one reads about in children’s books!”[5] However, a dastardly dwarf (larger than humans, but smaller than Giants) arranges their magical death, and these two embodiments of a warm and familial past fade away, never to be seen again.

Complicating the matter even further, some authors don’t view Giants as ‘Giants’ at all! In Anne Thackeray’s 1867 retelling of “Jack and the Beanstalk,” the two-headed Giant, Bulcox, is not a towering creature bent on destruction. Instead, it is a married couple in charge of a Victorian-era workhouse, who malnourish and abuse their laborers. Rather than a bone-filled dungeon, the Bulcox’s lair is the unsanitary living quarters: “Truth, naked, alas! covered with dirt and vermin, shuddering with cold, moaning with disease, and heaped and tossed in miserable, uneasy sleep at the bottom of her foul well.” This story’s Giants are not slayed by swords, magic, or axes, but rather by public awareness, the free press, and a clergyman unafraid to help the sick in the hospitals they languish at: ”[A]ll these hundreds of weary years, all these aching limbs, and desolate waifs from stranded homes, this afflicted multitude of past sufferings.”[6]

So what are Giants like, according to the materials in our collection? Well, they’re a lot of things. They’re the reason to stay inside after dark and listen to your parents. They’re the evil in the world, encouraging bravery and heroism to defeat them. They’re embodiments of more simple, peaceful pasts of yesteryear. And they’re social problems, capable of wreaking great destruction under the surface. Like other legendary creatures throughout human history, Giants are imagined and reimagined by communities within distinct contexts. Considering why people in different places, and different times, imagine Giants so differently could reveal much about how those people viewed themselves, the world around them, and their place in it. But that’s much more than can be handled in a blog post—that’s a giant project.

Referenced Works

[1] The History of Tommy Trip, and His Dog Jowler. And of Birds and Beasts. 1817. New Haven: Sidney’s Press. 6-8.

[2] H.A.C. 1809. The History of Mother Twaddle, and the Marvellous Atchievements of Her Son, Jack. Philadelphia: Wm. Charles. 14.

[3] Swinton, William, and George R. Cathcart, eds. 1882. Golden Book of Tales: Holiday Readings in the Legendary Lore of All Nations. New York: Ivison, Blakeman, Taylor, and Company.

[4] Swift, Jonathan. 1809. Travels Into Several Remote Nations of the World. Philadelphia: Mathew Carey. Part 2, Chapter 7.

[5] Cranch, Christopher Pearse. 1889. The Last of the Huggermuggers: A Giant Story. Boston: Lee & Shepard. 39.

[6] Ritchie, Anne Thackeray. 1868. Jack the Giant Killer. Boston: Loring. 10-29.

by Rakashi Chand, Reading Room Supervisor

Reality can seem more unbelievable than fiction, as is this tale of the Lincoln love letters. For years there was speculation about a possible romantic interest between Abraham Lincoln and a woman named Ann Rutledge. The evidence was that Ann died suddenly from illness and Lincoln’s first bout with depression soon ensued, however nothing in the historical record linked the two romantically. That changed in 1928, when Wilma Frances Minor presented Ellery Sedgwick, Editor of the Atlantic Monthly, with an opportunity to publish the story of a lifetime… the love affair of Abraham Lincoln and Ann Rutledge based on manuscript letters in Minor’s possession. 

Minor was a writer and vaudeville actress from California, who was beautiful, charming, and had almost supernatural powers of persuasion. Sedgwick consulted experts and biographers to authenticate the newly discovered letters Minor presented as family heirlooms, passed down from one generation to the next, and at first, they received validation. Sedgwick invited Minor to Boston, and she charmed all the editors at America’s most reputable literary magazine. The first of three “Lincoln the Lover” series was published, captivating the nation, and providing Minor with a handsome payment.

The ‘lost’ Lincoln letters swept the country, compelling Lincoln biographers and historians to dig deeper into the newly discovered romantic side of Abe which seemed too good to be true.

The collection included ten letters written by Lincoln, including three to Ann Rutledge and four to John Calhoun, four letters from Ann Rutledge, including two to Lincoln and several pages from the diary of Matilda Cameron, Ann’s cousin. The provenance of the collection was verified through letters written in various hands, from Frederick W. Hirth of Emporia, Kansas, Minor’s great-uncle, and Minor’s mother, Cora DeBoyer. Sedgwick contacted detective J. B. Armstrong to investigate the case under the supervision of Teresa Fitzpatrick of the Atlantic Monthly staff.

After further speculation, biographers who welcomed the newly found cache of manuscripts noticed discrepancies in style and vocabulary uncharacteristic of the author of the Gettysburg Address. The investigation proved that the letters were forgeries, and the whole affair nothing but an elaborate hoax. The strongest objections to the authenticity of the letters came from the Massachusetts Historical Society’s Editor of Publications, Worthing C. Ford, who wrote to Sedgwick on 24 November 1928, “Have you gone insane, or have I? You are putting over one of the crudest forgeries I have known…”

Scandal! Were these forgeries? Was it a hoax? How had America’s leading literary magazine fallen so completely for a beautiful scam artist and a wishful story?

Minor and her mother confessed to fabricating the letters on 3 July 1929, but with an interesting explanation: Minor claimed that her mother had psychic powers and the spirits of Ann and Abe had urged her to do it… or else the truth about their love would be lost to time. Minor created such a believable and extensive hoax; it simply sends shivers down an archivist’s spine.

“I would die on the gallows that the spirits of Ann and Abe were speaking through my Mother to me, so that my gifts as a writer combined with her gifts as a medium could hand on something worth while to the world.” Page 4 of Wilma Frances Minor’s confession taken by Teresa S. Fitzpatrick on 3 July 1929.

Sedgwick kept the forgeries along with all the correspondence before, during, and after the investigation; including with his staff, with detective Armstrong, with Paul Angle, President of the Lincoln Centennial Association, and many other Lincoln biographers, historians and experts, and finally, with Rumford Press and Little Brown & Co. who were publishing Minor’s book. Also included in the collection is Minor’s book manuscript and the detectives’ reports. The layers of the astonishing affair reveal themselves with each tantalizing page.

Were Minor and DeBoyer simply the vehicle to share a love story that changed the course of American history? Or were Minor and DeBoyer perhaps an incredible team of scam artists who almost succeeded in re-writing history? See for yourself by researching the Ellery Sedgwick Papers housed at the MHS. You can examine the forgeries with your own eyes in the Library at the MHS.

by Maggie Parfitt, Visitor Services Coordinator

Sometimes when we have a quiet afternoon at the MHS I’ll sit and read through our historical newspaper collection. A very historic hobby to keep, and one that turns up a lot of interesting things—like what some of our founding fathers were doing during their non-founding hours. I hope you find this selection of clippings as amusing and interesting as I do!

Paul Revere, silversmith and midnight rider, was also Paul Revere, dentist. Although it seems primarily on the side, as he directed potential patients to meet with him in his Silversmith’s Shop.

And Paul Revere, engraver (though this business of his is more widely remembered.)

You had more options for tooth care in Boston than just Paul Revere: You could visit Daniel Scott at his medicine store at the (very memorable) Sign of the Leopard, where among other services “all Persons who have the Scurvy in their Teeth, which threatens their removal though sound, may have them cleaned without hurting the Enamel, or in the least degree impairing them, and may be supplied with his DENTIUM CONSERVATOR, which is an excellent Powder, the best adapted for preserving the Teeth and Gums, and preventing them from Aching”

John Joy joined his colleagues in selling “a fresh Supply of Druggs & Medicines,” promising “Country Practitioners, Apothecarys, etc. may be suppy’d to great Advantage.” I’m interested in the implied distinction of practice between “country” and “city.”

John Hancock, heir to one of the richest merchant families in Boston, inherited his Uncle Thomas Hancock’s business after his death in 1764. In 1765 it seems he was still balancing accounts and “desires those Persons who are still indebted to the Estate of the late Hon. Thomas Hancock, Eqs: deceased, to be speedy in paying their respective Ballances, to prevent Trouble.”

Even one of Boston’s most prominent merchants was not immune to the backlash against imported British goods. But in 1771 he found it palatable to once again advertise imported goods, while assuring the public that he kept “the most strict Compliance with the Non-Importation Agreement during its Continuance.”

John Hancock continued to balance his identity of merchant with that of revolutionary. Advertisements for his Oration given on the anniversary of what we now know as the Boston Massacre can be found in the same paper where he advertised his goods for sale.

John Hancock was not the only one to face social pressure during the non-importation agreement. Women (or “Ladies”) were often appealed to directly, especially regarding the non-consumption of British tea. I still get a kick out of the line “However coolly some of you may now esteem your Husbands” in the 21^st century.

I also greatly enjoy the advertisements for less-remembered fields of business. Ladies (and Gentlemen) may have sent their children to join Peter Curtis at his new Dancing School. And Gentlemen who wished to learn “The Noble Science of DEFENCE commonly called the BACK-SWORD” may join Donald McAlpine in the Day-Time or Evening.

Thanks for joining me on this quick little jaunt through our Harbottle Dorr newspaper collection—there’s way more where that came from! You can browse the collection yourself here.

Further Resources

Rodwin, Nina. 2019. Dentures, Corpses, and Privies, Paul Revere’s Medical Careers. The Revere House Gazette: 136: 1-4.

“John Hancock.” Massachusetts Historical Society.

by Heather Rockwood, Communications Manager

In 1599, William Shakespeare wrote As You Like It, in which the famous monologue by the character Jacques begins, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.” I didn’t expect that line to play in my head as I looked through MHS’s collection of glass lantern slides belonging to Arthur A. Shurcliff. However, that’s what happened when I came across this image (also shown farther below) of a garden theater, or hedge theater, a kind of theater I hadn’t heard of before, and wanted to learn more about.

According to Katrina Grant who wrote Teatri Vi Verzura: Hedge Theatres in Baroque Lucca, hedge theaters were created in 1652 in the Tuscan province of Lucca, Italy. They rose in response to the prevailing theory of Italian gardens at the time, that the visual display, or spectacle, of artfully designed gardens was live theater. Such gardens were a way to show the public your life, your money, your taste, and your style. Most hedge theaters comprised a raised, half circle of grass, with a stone wall or large hedgerow as the backdrop. This “stage” could have other features, such as fountains, archways, statues, seating, or fishponds. The property owners would invite friends and acquaintances to their hedge theaters for performances of poetry, music, excerpts from plays, or lectures on a variety of subjects; however, opera wasn’t offered, for it needed paid singers, which was not the idea behind these garden theaters—nor was there space for an orchestra.

Hedge theaters later became popular in other places, first in France, then in Germany, and finally, in Great Britain. The image below shows a hedge theater in active use. The bottom of the slide notes that “The Kaiser is an interested spectator.” Although the slide itself isn’t dated, “Kaiser” (emperor) was used in Germany from 1871 through 1918, so we can fairly date this photograph to that time frame. What I love about it is how it captures a hedge theater with an audience present and enjoying the performance.

One thing that Grant noted in her book was the impermanence of hedge theaters: “Such theatres are imitations of permanent structures rendered in impermanent material, and conversely, living performers are frozen in stone or terracotta.” I liked the idea that such theaters were the opposite of traditional theater space, with four walls and a ceiling that have longevity, with generations of actors coming and going. And the impermanence within the design also plays into the current day thought that the Baroque period was one of intense color, decoration, and drama.

With Shakespeare in the Park and other outdoor theatrical performances becoming more popular in the past few decades, perhaps hedge theaters are about to make a related comeback.

Learn more about Arthur A. Shurcliff and the collection of glass lantern slides. Learn more about the current exhibition, Boston Views: Through the Lens of Arthur A. Shurcliff.

by Sally Keil, Secretary, Richard III Society – American Branch, Team leader for The Missing Princes Project in America

In August 2012 the search for the mortal remains of King Richard III, led by Philippa Langley MBE and her “Looking for Richard” project team, came to a successful conclusion when the King’s grave was located under a parking lot in Leicester, England. With this mystery solved, Langley turned her attention to the disappearance of the two sons of King Richard’s elder brother and predecessor, King Edward IV: what happened to the two boys following the coronation of their uncle? The last time they were seen playing on Tower Green was in July 1483. Over the course of that summer they were seen ‘less and less’ until they were no longer seen at all. With no proof whatsoever of their demise, the theory that they were put to death by their uncle calcified and is now taken as fact.

Solving the mystery of the disappearance of the two boys became Langley’s next challenge. She formed The Missing Princes Project (TMPP) and solicited help from researchers around the world to hunt for primary source documents that might offer clues to their whereabouts. To participate in this effort, I formed The Missing Princes Project in America in December 2018. The objective: search the 497 institutions listed in the Directory of Collections in the US and Canada that have Pre-1600 Manuscript Holdings. I reached out to the membership of the Richard III Society-American Branch asking for volunteers; thirty-one people raised their hands. Beginning in December 2018 we scoured 497 US-based libraries, archives and special collections looking very specifically for primary source documents dated between 1483 and 1509. With the outbreak of COVID all searching had to be online.

In querying the Massachusetts Historical Society’s digital archives, I was tremendously excited to find the original manuscript of a financial account book from the court of King Henry VII that was dated within our required timeframe. This manuscript was donated to the MHS in 1905 by the estate of Charles Edward French, a Bostonian businessman. I think it’s fun to learn that a Tudor period court record has been sitting right in our own backyard! However, it is written in Latin with medieval script, and is therefore indecipherable to most people who do not have the necessary paleographic skills. With a generous donation of funds from the Scottish branch of the Richard III Society, Langley commissioned Dr. Shelagh Sneddon of York University to transcribe and translate the account book. While it did not hold any clues to our search for the missing boys, it shines a bright light on the finances of King Henry VII and his court. With the kind agreement of Dr. Sneddon, The Missing Princes Project is pleased to donate a copy of the translation to the MHS. This gift enables MHS to provide students, researchers, and the wider online communities direct access to an original Tudor period manuscript.

A challenge to MHS researchers! As noted above, the estate of Mr. Charles Edward French donated this manuscript to MHS back in 1905. He also donated his diaries. In trying to determine from whom he obtained the account book, I came upon an entry in volume six, reel 2, box 2 page 125, written in the spring of 1864 that reads “I mean to study to collect all the valuable books that I can relative to antiquities, so that I may become a learned antiquarian/”. I have been unable to proceed beyond that. A small research challenge perhaps? It would be wonderful to be able to trace the provenance of the account book.

By Dr. Kristof Loockx, Centre for Urban History, University of Antwerp

On a Sunday afternoon in 1920, the Boston Port and Seamen’s Aid Society invited Professor Elizabeth F. Fisher (1873-1941) to deliver an illustrated lecture on petroleum at the Mariner’s House on 11 North Square.[1] Born in Boston, Fisher was a renowned scientist who graduated from MIT and held a permanent position as Professor of Geology and Mineralogy at Wellesley College. Like many other lecturers of that era, she most likely presented findings from her recent book.[2] In it, she offered educational insights into the geographical distribution of various natural resources, such as oil, and their industrial applications in the US. The book featured a rich variety of illustrations, such as geological maps and images of industrial uses of petroleum, that were likely used at the time of her lecture.[3] The seamen’s society had acquired a stereopticon in 1894, which marked a significant change in the programming of the organization’s lecture and entertainment series, as it enabled presenters to enrich their talks with illustrated projections on a wall.[4]

My research at the MHS explores a relatively uncharted aspect of maritime history: the role of seamen’s societies in organizing educational and entertainment events to impact the lives of transient seamen. This focus aims to illuminate the broader implications of such organizations beyond merely providing room and board. Organizations like the Boston Port and Seamen’s Aid Society increasingly engaged in promoting cultural programs to foster education, community, and self-improvement, which was part of a broader strategy to instill Christian values and counteract the exploitation of seafarers while ashore. These efforts also addressed the presumed relationship between industrialization and the deterioration of seamanship by re-educating those marginalized by capitalism.[5]

By exploring the rich archival records of the Boston Port and Seamen’s Aid Society at the MHS, I aim to reveal the nuances of how lectures and entertainment events were planned, executed, and received by their intended audiences. This research will provide a more comprehensive picture of the seafarer’s urban and social world, which is all too often reduced to prostitution, gambling, and drinking.[6] The study also demonstrates that seamen’s organizations were an integral part of the broader, flourishing lecture and entertainment circuit in the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries, echoing the principles of the lyceum movement, which was instrumental in promoting adult education through public lectures, debates, and concerts.[7] Furthermore, the prominent role of figures like Elizabeth F. Fisher highlights the integral part women played in these educational endeavors, as was the case for women who led concerts, delivering musical performances that enriched these gatherings.

While not all lectures, entertainments, and religious gatherings were illustrated, the incorporation of technology like the stereopticon, as well as the employment of instruments during performances, and the later use of the film projector for the showing of silent films –often accompanied by live music– aligned with the broader lecture circuit’s embrace of innovative methods to enhance learning and retention, making complex subjects accessible and engaging to a wide audience.[8] Additionally, seamen’s organizations also fostered a sense of camaraderie and joy through singing religious hymns and singalongs, with the latter often accompanied by the projection of song names to facilitate participation.[9] This use of projection technology highlights seamen’s societies’ aims to blend education with essential social interaction.

The enduring legacy of the Boston Port and Seamen’s Aid Society’s commitment to the welfare and education of seafarers remains a testament to the enduring value of community and knowledge. The rich archival material at the MHS not only sheds light on a neglected facet of maritime history but also underscores the timeless relevance of educational outreach in empowering individuals against the challenges of their times. By delving into the past, we gain insights into the methods and motivations that shaped lives, offering lessons that remain profoundly applicable in today’s ever-evolving societal landscapes.

Link to Multimedia Resources

To give readers a taste of the atmosphere during entertainments at seamen’s organizations like the Boston Port and Seamen’s Aid Society, links to a typical song and film from this era, enjoyed during the singalongs and screenings of silent films, are included below. These examples not only reflect historical tastes but also enrich our understanding of seafarers’ social lives during the period.

Music: I Just Roll Along Having My Ups and Downs (1928)

Film: Hold ‘em Yale (1928)

[1] Boston Port and Seamen’s Aid Society records (BPSAS), MHS, Annual Reports, 1832-1977, Report of the Managers, 1921, 16.

[2] Robert R. Shrock, Geology at MIT, 1865-1965: A History of the First Hundred (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1977), 400.

[3] Elizabeth F. Fisher, Resources and Industries of the United States (Ginn and Co: New York, 1919).

[4] BPSAS, MHS, Annual Reports, 1832-1977, Annual Report of the Managers, 1895, 7.

[5] For a general overview of the Boston Port and Seamen’s Aid Society’s history, see: Patrick M. Leehey, A History of the Mariner’s House (Boston: Boston Port and Seamen’s Aid Society, 1995).

[6] The Boston Port and Seamen’s Aid Society records at the MHS consist of 69 volumes and other records in 17 record cartons (Ms. N-366) and 3 reels of microfilm (P-717), spanning the years 1829-1977.

[7] For the lyceum movement, see, for instance: Tom F. Wright (ed.), The Cosmopolitan Lyceum: Lecture Culture and the Globe in Nineteenth-Century America (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2014).

[8] Margo Buelens-Terryn and Kristof Loockx, ‘Bringing the World into View: Explorations and the Illustrated Lecture Circuit in Early Twentieth-Century Antwerp and Brussels,’ in: J. Happel, M. Hussinger, and H. Raupach (eds.), Expeditions in the Long Nineteenth Century: Discovering, Surveying, and Ordering (New York: Routledge, 2024), 244-245.

[9] Seamen’s Church Institute’s Digital Archives, Outreach Text and Images, Song-Hit Slides.

by Meg Szydlik, Visitor Services Coordinator

May 17, 2024, was the 20th anniversary of the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts’ ruling that legalized gay marriage in the state, the first state in the nation to do so. To celebrate such an important landmark, as well as Pride month, I wanted to look at some LGBTQIA+ representation in our archives. I found out that we have the papers of Gerry E. Studds, the first openly gay US Congressman, and decided to explore them. I had never heard of him before, so it was fascinating to learn about this piece of history as someone who did not grow up in Massachusetts. Outed after a male ex-page reported having a consensual sexual relationship with Studds when he was 17, Studds chose to acknowledge and claim his sexuality rather than hide behind a veneer of heterosexual respectability. His bid worked. He would go on to serve in Congress for more than a decade after the scandal broke. Representing the 10th District including Cape Cod and the South Shore, he was committed to addressing marine and environmental concerns and maintained a strong anti-war stance throughout his time in Congress. I would love to explore his other activist focuses eventually, but for this blog I want to focus on his AIDS advocacy and support for gay rights.

I remember learning about AIDS as a child, but by the time I learned about it, it was no longer a death sentence the way it was in the 80s when Studds first spoke up about it. In his papers, he continually pointed out how HIV/AIDS was a deadly infection. He heavily critiqued his fellow representatives for not considering groups affected, such as gay men and intravenous drug users, as worthy of protection. In his view, it was a serious disease and a health crisis. Studds’ disagreement with Reagan’s hands-off approach to the epidemic is rooted in his observation that it “seems that the principal social activity today of a whole generation of young gay men and women is attending the funerals of equally young friends.” He also explicitly links support for an improved healthcare system to an improved prognosis for AIDS patients and vocally calls for more funding for AIDS care, treatment, and research.

He does not only care about AIDS, however. Studds is vocal about other gay issues, like military service. He objects to the anti-gay rules in the military, including what became known as “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,” and calls for gay military members to be able to serve openly and “with dignity,” pointing out that “you cannot blackmail someone who has nothing to hide.” It was not until 2011 that the policy was repealed and LGBTQ people could serve openly in the military without threat of being discharged. He argued that “the fear of gays is largely based on an ignorance that breeds ignorance” and that normalizing being gay was the key to creating a society where LGBTQ people are welcomed and cared for.

It’s striking to read these documents and see just how recent many LGBTQ gains are. Studds came out in 1983. Gay marriage was legalized federally in 2015. The US Supreme Court upheld that employers cannot discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity in 2020. These are all well within living memory. Civil rights are living, breathing, developing laws and policies, and the reality is still very far from rosy. As Gerry Studds said, “we will continue the struggle until the final chapter has been written and everyone is treated with dignity and respect.”

By Rakashi Chand, Reading Room Supervisor

The MHS held a special event featuring Asian American and Pacific Islander history to mark Asian American and Pacific Islander heritage month on 28 May 2024. The event began with a reception to bring together guests from various communities, institutions and organizations, followed by two special guest speakers, Representative Tackey Chan, of the Second Norfolk District in the Massachusetts House of Representatives and Dr. Paul Watanabe, Professor of Political Science and Director of the Institute for Asian American Studies at the University of Massachusetts Boston.  

Rep. Chan and Dr. Watanabe both spoke about the need to bring Asian American histories and people into sight, as the stories and voices of AAPI peoples have been historically ignored or removed from the narrative. Representative Chan discussed the many incidents of mistreatment, discrimination, exclusion and hate crimes committed against Asian Americans through the centuries. Both spoke about the importance of being seen and the importance of teaching and learning the history of AAPI people.  

This was followed by a beautiful dance performed by members of the Newton Chinese Language Teachers Club, mesmerizing attendees and filling the MHS with music. 

Rakashi Chand, Reading Room Supervisor, then welcomed the crowd to the MHS, along with Peter Drummey, Chief Historian & Stephen T. Riley Librarian, and kicked off the multi-case interpretation featuring collection items related to Asian American and Pacific Islander history at the MHS. 

Items featured throughout the building for the event included: 

Banquet to the Ambassadors of Japan, by Members of the Boston Board of Trade: Bill of Fare 

This handsome hand-painted silk menu was printed for a farewell dinner honoring Japanese diplomats and technical advisors after a seven-month visit to the United States. Among the visitors were key figures in the Meiji Restoration of 1868 and the new imperial regime. Ralph Waldo Emerson and Oliver Wendell Holmes delivered speeches that evening.   

“Mess Hall, Bathroom, Barracks. Japanese Relocation Center. Heart Mt. Wyoming.” 

This watercolor painting by Estelle Ishigo depicts the Heart Mountain Relocation Center in Wyoming, one of ten internment camps established for Japanese Americans during World War II. Ishigo was recruited as a “Documentary Reporter” for the War Relocation Authority and recorded the internment experience in illustrations, line drawings, oil, and watercolors. 

金山日新录.  Kim Shan Jit San Luk (Alternative title: Golden Hills’ News) Newspaper, 22 April 1854 

The first print of the first Chinese-language Newspaper in America.  

Letter from Pandita Ramabai from the Judith Walker Andrews Correspondence, 1887-1911, consists of letters from Pandita Ramabai describing her work to care for and educate child widows at Sharada Sadan and Mukti Sadan as well as other correspondence and accounts. 

Convention of amity and commerce with Kingdom of Siam, [manuscript copy, 1833.] 

First trade agreement with Thailand. In Thai; accordion folded scroll.  

Key to the city of Seoul, South Korea, presented to Henry Cabot Lodge. Bronze, gold leaf. 

And many more items!  

The event was well attended and enjoyed by an appreciative audience, many of whom attended for the first time. The MHS features material and scholarship related to Asian American and Pacific Islander History every May in honor of AAPI Heritage Month. Check the events calendar to attend next year. 

If you are interested in viewing these or other Asian American and Pacific Islander collection items at the MHS please use the online catalog, Abigail, to request items in the Library. Everyone is welcome to use the library and conduct research in the Reading Room. If you are interested in donating items to the collection, please see the webpage on Donating to the Collection.