Showing posts with label Womens History Month 2024. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Womens History Month 2024. Show all posts

Sunday, March 31, 2024

Daughters of James Alexander Hamilton

It has been an amazing Women's History Month! I appreciate all my guests and readers who have participated. For our final day, I would like to share a little bit about the daughters of James Alexander Hamilton. Each of them, of course, has their place in my next book. The Hamiltons were a close family who spent significant time together at James's Nevis on the Hudson River near Sleepy Hollow. Today, let's talk a little bit about his four daughters.

His eldest, named Elizabeth after her grandmother, was born 8 October 1811. She married George Lee Schuyler in 1835, and they had three children. I'm sharing an image of those children, since I have not discovered any of Elizabeth, who was called Eliza by family and friends. I have found many letters written between Eliza and her father as evidence of their close relationship. Eliza died of cancer in 1863 at age 52 while she was in Washington volunteering for the war effort. 

In what is likely her last letter to her father, she wrote, "If you could see, my dear Father, the love and devotion of every one. To one so independent of others, it is worth while to be sick, to learn so rich a lesson from them. I look to you, my dear Father, to keep up the family tone and spirit now, as you have ever done. Shall we receive good only from God, as we have all our lives - and when the good is veiled, so that we do not see it, shall we complain? Or even bear the sorrow, like a scourged slave: My spirit rises above such abject submission, in to harmony with the Divine Will. What God wishes to do for us and with us, is hidden in the future….This Life is the gift of God; this everlasting Life, which the loss of a tired body will set free for fresh youth and zest."

Eliza's daughter, Louisa Lee Schuyler, became a well-known leader in women's charitable work and nursing, following in the footsteps of her mother and grandmother.

Fun fact: since Elizabeth Hamilton married George Lee Schuyler, she was Elizabeth Hamilton Schuyler, while her grandmother was Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton!

James's second daughter, Frances, was born 2 October 1813, almost exactly 2 years after her sister, Eliza. Fanny, as she was often called, married George Bowdoin in 1832, and it is through this couple that most modern day descendants trace their lineage to James.

Fun Fact: Fanny's husband was named George Richard James Sullivan, but he took the last name Bowdoin from his mother's side, as did his brothers, in order to inherit the family fortune.

A third daughter, Mary, was born on New Year's Day 1818, and was named after her mother, Mary Morris Hamilton. She was one of the original members of the Mount Vernon Ladies Association that saved George Washington's home from falling into disrepair and ruin. Mary was the vice-regent for New York and raised $40k toward the purchase of Mount Vernon. She also attempted to keep Mount Vernon accessible during the Civil War, which was difficult due to its location in Virginia. Mary doubted the MVLA could afford to maintain the estate & encouraged transferring ownership to the federal government. A difference of opinion over this caused Mary to leave the organization, which still owns Mount Vernon to this day.

Mary also co-founded the New York School of Design for Women in 1852. It eventually became part of the Cooper Union. She was an active volunteer alongside her sister, Elizabeth, and niece, Louisa. Elizabeth died in 1863, and six years later her widower, George Lee Schuyler, married Mary. George Lee Schuyler is buried in the James A Hamilton family plot at Sleepy Hollow between the two sisters.

When admirers wished to honor Mary after her death with a statue of her at the 1893 Chicago Columbian Exposition, relatives filed a right to privacy suit to stop them, saying that Mary would not have wished it. 

The youngest of James A Hamilton's daughters is the one I discovered the least about. Her name was Angelica, and she was born 13 November 1819. James wrote several letters during his trips to Europe in which he mentions Angelica being with him. She married quite late in life for the era, becoming the second wife of Richard Milford Blatchford in 1860. Angelica was buried in the James A Hamilton family plot at Sleepy Hollow when she died in 1868, and her husband remarried again. She had no children. 

I have found no images of Angelica. Pictured is the James A Hamilton family plot at Sleepy Hollow. James, his wife, four of their five children, and three grandchildren are buried here.



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Read more about the Hamilton daughters in James Alexander Hamilton: Son of the American Revolution.

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Friday, March 29, 2024

Urania Titani: Sofie Brahe

Hello, dear readers. I've never had so many guests for Women's History Month, and I hope you're enjoying this wonderful variety of stories about amazing women! My guest today is Maria Yrsa Rönneus, who is not only a fantastic author, she is the designer of the cover art for my novel, But One Life. Maria takes us back to the 16th century and introduces us to a true Renaissance woman, Sofie Brahe.

Welcome, Maria!

~ Samantha

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Urania Titani: Sofie Brahe

Guest Post by Maria Yrsa Rönneus 

It is a truth oft perpetuated, that clever, successful, and interesting women make bad relationship choices. Though hardly a universal fact, it was certainly true of Sofie (Sophie) Brahe.

She was a true Renaissance woman – astronomer, astrologer, alchemist, meteorologist, historian, genealogist, gardener, and landlady. Strong, clever, beautiful, but she had a terrible taste in men.

Scania (Da: Skaane, Swe: Skåne) along with the counties of Halland and Blekinge, make up the southernmost tip of the Scandinavian peninsula, and aside from a brief interlude of Swedish reign in the 14th century, Scania was historically Danish until 1658. It was a coveted and well-guarded breadbasket, but whichever side of the sound the monarch was on, Scania always had, fought for, and retained its own traditions, culture, and even language.



It was in this rich province, at Knudstrup Castle (Swe: Knutstorp) that Sofie was born the youngest of ten to Otte Brahe and Beate Bille in 1556 or 1559. The noble family of Brahe was ancient aristocracy; they were influential and extremely wealthy – their vast family tree is littered with Councils, Marshals, and Stewards of the Realm and Ladies in Waiting. Needless to say, that they could well afford to give their children the very best education available at the time. 



And their oldest son, the famous astronomer Tyge (Swe: Tycho) certainly benefitted from university in Copenhagen. Of all Sofie’s siblings he was the one she was closest to, despite his being at least twelve years her senior. Sharing the same interests and talents, they faced the same opposition from their parents and other siblings. Sciences weren’t seen as suitable occupation for nobility in general, and particularly not for women. Sofie, of course, stood no chance of getting an education equal to her brother’s. 

Tyge taught her horticulture and alchemy, but their relationship wasn’t without conflict either. Tyge was a man of his times after all, and wouldn’t teach her astronomy as he feared that her feebler female mind might not be equal to the task.

Sofie, however, wasn’t one to let a few obstacles stand in her way, and promptly proceeded to teach herself Greek mythology, history, German, and astronomy. By her own admission, she had little interest in women’s conventional skills and chores, and already in her teens, she began assisting Tyge in his work.



The scientific disciplines as we know them today had yet to crystallise – astronomy and astrology were one and the same. Consequently, Sofie’s interest in astronomy was inextricably tied to her firm belief in astrology. She achieved great skill in calculating the natal charts for friends and acquaintances, and did so wherever she went for both her own and others’ amusement. Similarly, her aim to find the formula for the elusive “Philosopher’s Stone” taught her to prepare medicines and herbal remedies which she handed out to friends, tenants, and the poor.

In 1577, when she was about twenty-one years of age, she was married to Otte Tagesen Thott of Eriksholm, (presently Trolleholm). Little is known about him, he appears to have been quite unremarkable. We can’t know whether this was a marriage she welcomed or was forced into, but eleven years of marriage didn’t result in more than one child. It’s easy to read lack of love and passion into that, but it’s also possible that Otte Thott wasn’t a healthy man. The cause of his demise seems to be unknown, but he died already in1588, when he was only forty-five.



In any case, Sofie was given quite a lot of freedom to keep up with her interests as well as cultivate new ones. Her garden at Eriksholm was renowned, and she seems to have thrived. Otte Thott may have lead a quiet life, but his funeral was such a lavish affair as to attract the displeasure of the government. 

As a widow, Sofie continued to live and work at Eriksholm, managing the estate for her young son. She kept visiting Tyge frequently, much as she had during her marriage. King Frederik II had given Tyge an island in Öresund. Ven is a mere speck on the map, but there he built his wonderful mansion Uraniborg, and his subterranean observatory Stjerneborg (Eng: Star Castle). Underground, his delicate instruments would be protected from the weather, and readings not be influenced by for example winds, which would have been a real problem on the tiny island. Both the castle and the observatory were demolished after Tyge left for Prague in 1599, but the observatory was reconstructed in the 20th century, and now houses a museum.



At Uraniborg, the learned scientific elite of the late 16th century gathered. Sofie became more than merely her brother’s assistant, she participated in all parts of the scientific discourse at Uraniborg. So much so that Tyge planned to include some of her work in the second volume of his ‘Astronomical Letters’, which he sadly never got to finish. Sofie befriended the learned men, and their regard for her knowledge and work is well documented. They called her Urania for the Greek muse of astronomy. (The planet Uranus also named for the same muse wouldn’t be discovered for another two centuries.)

It was here that she met and fell head-over-heels in love with Erik Lange of Engelsholm. He was a young nobleman who had received education in Paris and Wittenburg. There are no known paintings of Erik, but I imagine he must have been handsome. Erik was clever, but could hardly compare to the intellectual giants that Sofie was used to rubbing shoulders with. Yet she was decidedly dazzled. Sofie was thirty-four when they got engaged.



But, let loose in the well-equipped laboratory at Uraniborg, Erik’s love of alchemy trumped his love for Sofie. He gave himself over to the gold-making business with such abandon that he distilled away almost all his assets. Two years later, the wedding had still not taken place, and Erik had to flee from his creditors. Erik left Denmark in 1592. 

Sofie returned to Eriksholm, to her son, her studies, and her garden. It’s from this time that a poem called Urania Titani originates. It is a long letter professing Urania’s passionate love for Titan (Erik) composed in sonorous Latin hexameter. It tells of her sadness and longing for her beloved, and Urania reassures Titan of her trust in him.



Accounts conflict on whether she actually wrote the poem herself, or if she commissioned it; some sources say that she didn’t know Latin. She was known to write poetry, albeit in Danish. Her brother Tyge, who also wrote poetry, took credit for it. It seems to me a very odd thing to write a fervent love letter to one’s sister’s lover. Far more reasonable then to assume that he translated it. Regardless of who wrote the poem, it’s safe to say that Sofie was besotted.

Erik meanwhile, was mostly besotted with the thought of making gold, and letters from him were brief and far between. Travelling from place to place in present day Germany, Poland, and Czech Republic, he accumulated new debt where ever he went. Gold-feverish addiction had him in a firm grip, and little else mattered. He neglected his duties as landlord, yet forced his tenants to work too hard, and ultimately pawned his estate.

Sofie’s family tried to persuade her to break it off with him, but her loyal heart wouldn’t hear of it.
Instead, she sent him such sums of money that her family intervened with legal actions, and seized her assets on behalf of her son, then still a minor. 

Sofie was not about to let true love slip away, and in 1599, when her son reached majority, she managed to scrape together enough to travel to Germany. Erik, however, could barely tear himself away from his “art”. Sofie was well liked and had many friends and connections in Europe who sent her invitations to stay, but Sofie couldn’t bring herself to give up on Erik. When he left for a new place, she found some excuse to follow. But with her closest relatives in Scania, she found neither help nor compassion.

Sofie and Erik returned to Denmark in 1602, where Erik was arrested and put in debtors’ prison. Help came from her extended family, and finally when she was forty-six, they were married. She wrote in a vivid and acerbic letter to her sister that she did not own one pair of stockings without holes for the wedding and that the groom’s clothes had been hocked.

The wedding bells had barely stilled before Erik took off again. Inheritances made Sofie’s life more bearable, but her holdings were now Erik’s and his debts devoured much of that too. Erik died destitute in Prague in 1613.

Another woman might have returned full of remorse and sorrow to her son’s Eriksholm, but not Sofie. It was not for nothing that her brother Tyge spoke of her “animus invictus” – her invincible spirit. In 1616, she moved to Helsingør (Elsinore) where she devoted herself to genealogical research. Her work resulted in a folio of over 900 pages in 1626. Genealogy was a popular pursuit with the ladies of nobility of the time, but Sofie’s family book was considered a pinnacle among similar works, not least because of her animated storytelling.

As a female scientist, Sofie Brahe was a new phenomenon is Nordic history. Her work defied norms in terms of both sex and class. She died in Helsingør in 1643, at an age of eighty-seven. Made possible, partly by her brother’s support, partly by her own stubbornness, hers was a remarkable life on her own terms. 

Sources:

https://kvindebiografiskleksikon.lex.dk/Sophie_Brahe_-_Tycho_Brahes_søster_og_hjælper

https://biografiskleksikon.lex.dk

https://nordicwomensliterature.net/da/2011/01/04/slaegtens-kreds-og-venskabets-tempel/

‘Dansk Biografisk Leksikon’, C. F. Bricka (1887 – 1905)

‘Breve og aktstykker angaaende Tyge Brahe og hans slægtninge’, F. R. Friis (1875)

‘Sofie Brahe Ottesdatter. En biografisk skildring’, F. R. Friis (1905)

‘Tycho Brahes "Urania Titani": et digt om Sophie Brahe’. P. Zeeberg (1994)

Images from Wikipedia, Alvin and Flickr. Artwork by Joan Blaeu and Edith Annie Ibbs.




In Orbits of Attraction, the fictional protagonist, Juliet, is an astronomer in the early 19th century Britain. Two hundred years had changed very little for women in sciences. It highlights the particular challenges that being female in a male dominated pursuit entailed. The protagonist meets Caroline Herschel, another clever female astronomer, doomed to playing second fiddle to a celebrated brother.

Although privileged, Juliet too faces sexism in her work, and has to wrestle the issues arising in combining independence and love.


Connect with Maria on her website, Facebook, and Twitter.

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Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Joan of Leeds: A Rebellious Nun

Hello, dear readers! You will recognize my guest today because she has been here before. Toni Mount has contributed several fascinating articles and is the author of one of my favorite series as well as several nonfiction books, including How to Survive in Medieval England. I'm pleased to welcome her as part of Women's History Month with a journey back to the 14th century to introduce us to a lady who went to some extremes to claim her freedom! 

Toni is also celebrating the release of her latest novel in the Sebastian Foxley series, Color of Sin. By the time you're reading this, I will likely be halfway through Seb's latest adventure and not wanting it to end. More on this below. Now, let's talk about the ladies.

Welcome, Toni!

~ Samantha

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Joan of Leeds: A Rebellious Nun

Guest Post by Toni Mount


Joan was a young nun at St Clement’s Benedictine Priory in York in northern England in the early fourteenth century. It isn’t known at what age she entered the religious life, taking vows of obedience, poverty and chastity. Perhaps her parents decided for her as becoming a nun was a way of dealing with an unmarried daughter without a dowry. Whatever the reason, Joan discovered that the monotonous round of daily prayers and those tedious vows was not the life for her. 

Joan was bored. 

So she hatched a plan and, possibly, her sister nuns were tired of her, too, because they assisted in her scheme to escape from the priory. In 1318, Joan complained of being unwell and took to her bed. No remedy aided this mysterious ailment and, eventually, she died – a drastic means of escape, you’ll agree. The nuns buried Joan’s body in holy ground and that could have been the end of her brief, sorry story.

Except that it wasn’t.

Joan had made a cloth dummy, stuffing it with straw, and it was this makeshift corpse which the nuns buried. Meanwhile, Joan fled the convent and walked thirty miles to Beverley. Whether her destination was pre-planned to meet up with someone we don’t know but, later, it was said she was living there with a man.

However, her ruse was uncovered back at the priory and William Melton, the Archbishop of York, was informed. He sent a letter to the Dean of Beverley Minster, detailing Joan’s sins and demanding her immediate return to St Clement’s. It seems the first letter didn’t result in her return because the archbishop wrote again, explaining that she had faked death and fashioned a dummy ‘in the likeness of her body’ which her sister nuns, aiding and abetting her crimes, then buried ‘in a sacred space amongst the religious of that place’, all for her sinful desire to follow ‘the way of carnal lust’, he said, righteously. Joan was officially denounced as an apostate for absconding, breaking her vows and abandoning her nun’s habit and those who helped her were ‘evildoers’. Further, the archbishop continued, ‘She perverted her path of life arrogantly and now wanders at large to the notorious peril to her soul and to the scandal of all of her order’.


And scandal there was.

A local priest wrote to the archbishop from Beverley on 26 August 1318, saying that Joan had voluntarily told him her version of events, admitting she’d faked her death in order to escape. It’s not known whether she ever did return to the priory and these letters, found in Archbishop Melton’s Register, are the only source, telling of her life and career. 

Joan’s story was discovered in 2019 when a University of York research project, led by Professor Sarah Rees Jones, found the scribe’s marginal notes in the Archbishop’s Registra for 1305-1405. The priest’s letter was uncovered in 2020. 


Connect with Toni

Toni Mount earned her Master’s Degree as a mature student at the University of Kent by completing original research into a unique 15th-century medical manuscript.

She is the author of several successful non-fiction books including the number one bestsellers, Everyday Life in Medieval London and How to Survive in Medieval England, which reflects her detailed knowledge of the lives of ordinary people in the Middle Ages.

Toni’s enthusiastic understanding of the period allows her to create accurate, atmospheric settings and realistic characters for her Sebastian Foxley medieval murder mysteries.

Toni’s first career was as a scientist and this brings an extra dimension to her novels. She writes regularly for The Richard III Society's Ricardian Bulletin and a variety of history blogs and is a major contributor to MedievalCourses.com.

As well as writing, Toni teaches history to adults, is an enthusiastic member of two creative writing groups and is a popular speaker to groups and societies.

Come with Seb Foxley, Rose and their enigmatic friend Kit, a priest with a shadowy past, as they join a diverse group of pilgrims on what should be an uplifting spiritual journey to Canterbury Cathedral.

Beset by natural disasters and unexplained deaths, the dangers become apparent. Encountering outlaws and a fearsome black cat, every step is fraught with peril.

Amidst the chaos, Seb finds himself grappling with the mysteries surrounding him, as well as his own demons, while Rose's reunion with her family sets off a chain of events with unforeseen consequences.

But the greatest threat lies in the shadows, where sinister forces unleash evil upon the unsuspecting pilgrims. In a world where trust is a scarce commodity and even allies may harbour dark intentions, Seb must uncover the truth and protect his fellow travellers.

Prepare to be enthralled by a tale of betrayal, intrigue and redemption as Seb Foxley races against time to unravel the malevolent secrets hidden within the heart of the pilgrimage. Who can you trust when even friends prove false?




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Sunday, March 24, 2024

Civil War Hospital Matron Phoebe Pember

If you've read anything about America's Civil War, you know that medical care of the mid-19th century left a lot to be desired, especially as resources ran low. Author Michael Ross is here today to help us celebrate Women's History Month and share how Phoebe Pember selflessly served the wounded and strove for better care at Chimborazo Hospital through this turbulent time.

Welcome, Michael!

~ Samantha

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Civil War Hospital Matron Phoebe Pember

Guest Post by Michael Ross

Phoebe Pember (August 18, 1823 – March 4, 1913) was a South Carolina widow who became the head matron at Chimborazo Hospital in Richmond.

Phoebe was born into a wealthy and prominent South Carolina Jewish family, the fourth of seven children. Her father was Jacob Clavius, a successful merchant, and her mother a well regarded actress. She had a private tutor, and learned the feminine arts of the time as she grew up. One can only speculate as to why she married late at 33, but later life might suggest her strength of character deterred suitors. She was no delicate flower.

Eventually, Phoebe did marry Thomas Pember, a Gentile from Boston, two years her senior in 1856. Thomas didn’t last long. He contracted tuberculosis and died July 9, 1861 in Aiken, SC. Phoebe became a childless widow at 38. Her parents fled south to Georgia, hoping to escape the ravages of war. Phoebe went with them, but fidgeted, restless, her reserves of energy unused. Her father expected her to sew, attend parties, and play the pianoforte. Such pursuits were profoundly boring to Phoebe, who longed to be useful. She had a great friend, the wife of the Confederate Secretary of War, Mary Pope Randolph. Randolph offered her a position as matron at the Chimborazo Hospital, and Phoebe jumped at the chance. There were ninety hospital wards, forty beds each.

Almost from the beginning, Phoebe was at odds with her male colleagues. She was appalled by the abuse of hospital alcohol supplies, consumed by doctors, male nurses, and orderlies while on duty. She lobbied to be put in charge of the entire alcohol supply for the hospital, prompting complaints to superiors in the Richmond hierarchy.

During her tenure, almost 76,000 Confederate soldiers were tended. She did not practice medicine herself, lacking the training, but her skills as an administrator made sure that medical staff had the supplies needed to do their job. She also personally read for, wrote for, cared for, and otherwise helped as many wounded men as possible, up to 15,000 under her direct care during the course of the war. She got a fair amount of flak for being female, but never let it bother her. She relates one conflict with a powerful man, William Carrington, head of the Confederate Medical Dept.:

“He advanced towards the [whiskey] barrel, and so did I, only being in the inside, I interposed between him and the object of contention. The fierce temper blazed up in his face, and catching me roughly by the shoulder, he called me a name that a decent woman seldom hears and even a wicked one resents. But I had a little friend, which usually reposed quietly on the shelf, but had been removed to my pocket in the last twenty-four hours, more from a sense of protection than from any idea that it would be called into active service; so before he had time to push me one inch from my position, or to see what kind of ally was in my hand, that sharp click, a sound so significant and so different from any other, struck upon his ear, and sent him back amidst his friends, pale and shaken.

‘You had better leave,’ I said composedly (for I felt in my feminine soul that although I was near enough to pinch his nose, that I had missed him), ‘for if one bullet is lost, there are five more ready, and the room is too small for even a woman to miss six times.’” – National Museum of Civil War Medicine, Kristin Brill, and A Southern Woman’s Story: Life in Confederate Richmond, Phoebe Pember

One Confederate observer said of Phoebe that she possessed “the will of steel under a suave refinement.”

On one occasion, as she was visiting some newly arrived soldiers who had been wounded in a recent battle, one of them called for her attention. At first glance, it could be seen that he was very weak and would probably soon pass away. She stepped to his side to see what she could do for him in his final moments:

“He shook his head in negative to all offers of food or drink or suggestions of softer pillows and lighter covering.

‘I want Perry,’ was his only wish.

On inquiry I found that Perry was the friend and companion who marched by his side in the field and slept next to him in camp, but of whose whereabouts I was ignorant. Armed with a requisition from our surgeon, I sought him among the sick and wounded at all the other hospitals. I found him at Camp Jackson, put him in my ambulance, and on arrival at my own hospital found my patient had dropped asleep. A bed was brought and placed at his side, and Perry, only slightly wounded, laid upon it.”

…when the young soldier awoke, he was overjoyed to see his old friend, and got to spend the last few minutes of his life with his army buddy at his side, thanks to the quick and selfless work of Phoebe Pember.

Another time, there was a young man who had suffered a badly broken bone in his upper thigh, but he was healing and expected to make a recovery. One night, he rolled over in bed and screamed.

Phoebe came running and found that a bone splinter had poked out through his skin, and the wound was jetting blood (apparently an artery had been severed). Phoebe immediately pressed on the wound with her finger and was able to cut off the flow of blood until a surgeon arrived.

Unfortunately, when the surgeon arrived, he found that he could not locate the severed artery, and finally told Phoebe that there was no hope. She was left to break the news to the wounded man. This task was very difficult for her, but finally:

“It was done at last and the verdict received patiently and courageously, some directions given by which his mother would be informed of his death, and then he turned his questioning eyes upon my face.

‘How long can I live?’

‘Only as long as I keep my finger upon this artery.’ A pause ensued. God alone knew what thoughts hurried through that heart and brain, called so unexpectedly from all earthly hopes and ties. He broke the silence at last.

‘You can let go.’

But I could not. Not if my own life had trembled in the balance. Hot tears rushed to my eyes, a surging sound to my ears, and a deathly coldness to my lips. The pang of obeying him was spared me, and for the first and last time during the trials that surrounded me for four years, I fainted away.”

This story demonstrates once more how deeply Phoebe Pember cared for those who came into her care, but that is not the only thing that made her a successful matron at Chimborazo…

At the end, as the battle neared Richmond, many of the surgeons deserted the hospital for the front. Phoebe was moved by the cries of the wounded. Countermanding the orders of her superiors, who insisted the wounded be taken elsewhere, Phoebe received them. She heeded the cry of a soldier who said, “For God’s sake, take them in or kill them.”

After the surrender of Richmond, her duties did not end. There were still wounded to attend to, and they needed relief from pain. Laudanum and other anesthetics were not to be found, but a thirty gallon barrel of whiskey was delivered. Phoebe again resorted to her pistol to defend it, as others assumed all authority was gone, and a mere woman was of no consequence.

“Undaunted, Mr. Wilson headed for the barrel himself, but Phoebe stepped in his way. Wilson swore at her, and grabbing her arm, moved to throw her out of his way. Suddenly, he heard the distinctive sound of a pistol being cocked.”

Phoebe stayed for about six months after the conclusion of the war, tending the wounded. The Union took over the hospital, using it for their own wounded. Phoebe returned home to Marietta, Georgia. She traveled widely, speaking on the evils of war. She died of breast cancer in Pittsburgh, Pa. in 1913.

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Sunday, March 17, 2024

Ruth deForest Lamb and the FDA's Chamber of Horrors

Good morning, dear readers. I have such a great guest for you today! Lucy Santos has extensively researched the history of cosmetics and some of the dangerous products people have used in the quest for beauty. If you were touched by the story of the radium girls in Luminous, you won't want to miss this story of a woman who was working at the US Food & Drug Administration (FDA) to protect consumers from dangerous, unregulated products - like cosmetics infused with radium. I confess that I had not previously heard of Ruth deForest Lamb, so I appreciate Lucy sharing her story with us as part of the Women's History Month celebration.

Welcome, Lucy!

~ Samantha

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Ruth deForest Lamb and the FDA's Chamber of Horrors

Guest Post by Lucy Santos

I am a beauty historian specialising in the ways in which cosmetics intersect with science and technology. A lot of my work is around the toxicity of ingredients – I even wrote a book which examined (amongst other aspects of the elements uses) the ways in which radium was used in cosmetics. 

And because of this fascination I do a lot of research into the various ingredients, beauty companies, places you can buy these products and deep dives into the ways they were marketed. 

When Samantha kindly asked me to do a post for Women’s History Month I knew there was only one person I wanted to write about – so let me introduce you to Ruth deForest Lamb.



Born in 1896 in Hallstead, Pennsylvania Ruth graduated from Vassar College and was one of the first women working in advertising – which, in the years after the First World War was an emerging industry. A bit off topic but if you haven’t read Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy L Sayer I highly recommend it for a flavour of what it was like to work in advertising during this period. 

By 1933 Ruth was working for the U.S Food and Drug Administration as their first Chief Educational Officer and one of her initial huge projects was to put together a display for the 1933 Century of Progress International Exposition, held in Chicago during 1933 and 1934.

The FDA’s contribution to this massive exhibition was an exhibit of 100 products that they considered ‘dangerous, deceptive or worthless’ but had no legal authority to ban. The products encompassed dodgy medications, foods with unlabelled substitutions and cosmetics with dangerous ingredients. 

This was actually a huge problem at the time because, despite some progress via the 1906 Pure Food and Drug Act, the US consumer was largely unprotected and the FDA largely powerless to change the situation. Even worst cosmetics were not covered by the regulations at all. 

This name, shame and educate campaign was carried out across seventeen display boards illustrated with ‘large, vivid pictures coupled with spare, terse prose’ – detailing the problems and the effects of these unregulated products. So Othine, a cream made with ammoniated mercury which promised to lighten the skin was highlighted as was dinitrophenol, a chemical that was sold as a weight loss tool but could cause fatal blood disorders. 



But two of the most shocking products were produced by the companies – Lash-Lure Laboratories, Inc of LA and Koremlu Inc of New York. Lash Lure was a synthetic aniline dye (a component of coal tar) that was designed for dying eyelashes and eyebrows. Koremlu was a hair removal product made from the toxic element Thallium.

Both of these products were widely available in beauty salons and Koremlu was even sold in the biggest department stores in New York City. 

They had been popular products until their users started to fall ill, and it was these victims that were featured heavily in Ruth deForest Lamb’s ‘Chamber of Horrors’ exhibit in Chicago. The stories of the suffering caused by these products were particularly gruelling – especially that of Mrs Brown, a woman who had been persuaded into dying her eyelashes by a beautician and ended up with her ‘laughing blue eyes’ being ‘blinded forever.’



Koremlu’s panel exposed Kora B Lublin, a beauty salon owner, who had begun manufacturing her hair removal cream after reading an article about how thallium acetate prevented the regrowth of hair. Ignoring the warning about the dangerous nature of the ingredient (which is a poison) Lublin had her assistants make up jars of product by hand with no controls in place to even achieve a standard dose.

When users began to fall ill with thallium poisoning it was at an inconsistent rate as some batches of the cream were more dangerous than others. Hospitals throughout the US began seeing patients presenting with symptoms including paralysation of lower limbs, nausea, blindness and loosening of their hair on other parts of the body that hadn’t been treated. 

It were these types of products that the FDA were powerless to stop and deForest Lamb in particular felt the injustice of a law with so many loopholes and the frustration of working for a toothless regulatory organisation. By drawing attention to specific products at such a prominent event as a World’s Fair, deForest Lamb’s intention was to expose the companies that made them and, ultimately to change the laws surrounding their manufacture and sale. 

After the exposition finally finished on 12 November 1933 the exhibition was packed up and returned to Washington D.C where it went on display at the Department of Agriculture. Again deForest Lamb made sure that the spotlight remained on the horrors they were exposing and there was another flurry of publicity when the First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt visited it. Time magazine reported on her reaction when presented with photographs of the women blinded by Lash-Lure: ‘I cannot bear to look at them.’



A few years later deForest Lamb went on a leave of absence from the FDA and turned the exhibition into a book, The American Chamber of Horrors. Whilst this used all the material from the exhibit as well as other sources from the FDA’s archives she stated that she wanted to write the book as a private citizen rather than an employee as it would make the argument more powerful. 

Not only did she make the case for the strengthening of a law that left Government officials with ‘no real power’ to prevent tragedies caused by products currently on the market but she dedicated the book to the other organisations that were fighting for change. In effect she was advocating for a new type of consumerism – one where users were not just passive victims and officials were given the power of real regulation. 

It took a few more years but deForest Lamb’s advocacy and awareness raising helped to ensure the passing of the Food, Drug and Cosmetic Act (FDCA) of 1938. And whilst this wasn’t by any means perfect it was the first time that cosmetics had been regulated at a federal level and gave much more protection to consumers.

Under this law Lash-Lure was taken off the market as well as action taken against other, non toxic but misleading products. For example the FDA ordered Elizabeth Arden to change the name of their ‘Skin Food’ to ‘Skin Cream’ because the ingredients were not nutrients and the company had been advertising that they would ‘furnish nourishment to the skin.’

There was, however, no need to take Koremlu off the market – consumer action had already done that when users started to sue Cora Lublin. By the time she removed Koremlu from sale in 1932 she been sued for $2.5 million and closed her beauty salon shortly after.

Ruth deForest Lamb left the FDA in 1942 and died in 1978.

Connect with Lucy Santos

Specialising in the late 19th and early 20th century Lucy Jane Santos is a freelance historian examining the crossroads of health, leisure and beauty with science and technology.

Lucy has appeared as a contributor on TV and radio, and her historical research has been featured by History Today, BBC History Revealed, Jezebel, LitHub, New York Post, Vogue, and on the BBC2 documentary, Makeup: A Glamorous History. Her most recent project is as Creative Consultant for the documentary Obsessed With Light a film that tells the story of the performance artist Loïe Fuller.

Lucy’s debut book was Half Lives: The Unlikely History of Radium (Icon: 2020, Pegasus: 2021). Half Lives was shortlisted for the BSHS Hughes Prize in 2021. Her next book, which is a history of the element uranium, will be published in 2024.

Connect with Lucy through her website, substack, or Instagram.



COVER REVEAL! The cover for Lucy's newest book has just been revealed, so you are among the first to see the new cover art for Chain Reactions: A Hopeful History of Uranium

Tracing uranium's past—and how it intersects with our understanding of other radioactive elements—Chain Reactions aims to enlighten readers and refresh our attitudes about the atomic world.



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Friday, March 15, 2024

Friendships in the Early Republic: Lafayette and Eleanor Custis Lewis

I hope everyone is enjoying Women's History Month! Today, another wonderful guest joins me with a glimpse of a friendship you might not have heard too much about. I love these bits of history that give us a peek into the personal lives of historical figures and help them feel "real" to us. If you enjoy learning about Lafayette, you'll want to pick up a copy of Elizabeth Reese's new book, Marquis de Lafayette Returns for more stories of his American travels and relationships.

Welcome, Elizabeth!

~ Samantha

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Friendships in the Early Republic: Lafayette and Eleanor Custis Lewis

Guest Post by Elizabeth Reese


Throughout his tour of America in 1824-1825, the Marquis de Lafayette’s visits with important men were thoroughly documented. Newspaper accounts, correspondence, and private journals list Lafayette’s name alongside those of the most powerful men in the country. Less has been said about Lafayette’s friendships with women during his trip. Women not only played a major role in Lafayette’s tour by organizing social gatherings and welcome ceremonies, but Lafayette’s convivial personality earned him the friendships of many women throughout his life.

Although George Washington had died in December 1799, Lafayette remained close with the first president’s extended family. The Custis children, Martha Washington’s grandchildren from her first marriage, were an almost constant presence in Washington social circles during Lafayette’s National Tour. Although Eliza Custis Law, Martha “Patty” Custis Peter, Eleanor “Nelly” Custis Lewis, and George Washington Parke Custis were not the heirs to Washington’s estate, they were seen as the heirs to his legacy and responsible for the preservation of his memory.

In 1784, Lafayette had previously spent two weeks with Washington and his extended family, where he had the opportunity to get to know the young Custis children. When Lafayette sent his son to live at Mount Vernon during the terror of the French Revolution, the friendship between the families was extended into the next generation. Lafayette and the Custises continued to write to each other after Washington died, and during Frenchman’s visit in the Washington, D.C. region, he spent the majority of his spare time with them.

All four children frequently welcomed Lafayette as a guest in their respective homes and attended gatherings with him, but the relationship between Lafayette and Nelly was one of particular fondness. Nelly Custis Lewis had been raised at Mount Vernon and was said to be the favorite of her grandparents. She moved with the Washingtons to New York and Philadelphia during the presidency and married George Washington’s nephew, Lawrence Lewis in 1799. As George and Martha had no biological children of their own, the marriage of Lawrence and Nelly joined the Custis and Washington families together.


Nelly was among the crowd of 50,000 citizens waiting to greet Lafayette when he arrived in New York in August 1824. The two had an emotional reunion before spending time together in the city, dining and enjoying theater. Nelly relished in Lafayette’s affection, viewing him as an extension of the step-grandfather she had loved. In October 1824, Nelly was likely present when Lafayette visited Mount Vernon to pay his respects to the deceased Washington.

It was not until December 1824 that Nelly would have the honor of hosting Lafayette at her home, Woodlawn, and she was thrilled to have the opportunity to have the Guest of the Nation all to herself. Throughout the tour, Lafayette had spent much time with his friend Frances Wright, a free-thinking feminist writer who was vocal on issues of abolition. Nelly, who viewed Wright as a sort of social nemesis, did not look to the friendship with much kindness. Perhaps she was intimidated by Wright’s views, which were far more progressive than the social structure of the Virginia plantation class Nelly was raised in. Regardless, Lafayette’s visit to Woodlawn on the cusp of the Christmastide season was a pleasant one for Nelly and her family. Nelly wrote to her friend Elizabeth Bordley Gibson of her joy in having the opportunity to have Lafayette under her roof, stating: “I felt as if my own great adopted Father was in my house.” After the four days came to a close, Nelly presented Lafayette and his son with several parting gifts including relics of Washington, Martha Washington’s recipe for lip balm, and several poems.

In September 1825, as Lafayette boarded the steamboat which would carry him down the Potomac to the Brandywine, the frigate that would take him back to France, Nelly was noted as being by his side to see him off. Alongside elected officials and other important men, Lafayette and Nelly bade their final farewells to each other.

The time Lafayette spent with Nelly during his tour was a physical reminder of her relationship with Washington. As Lafayette’s boat sailed into the horizon, the finality of his visit sunk in; Washington was gone, Lafayette was heading back to France, and the Americans like Nelly were left to chart the course of the nation on their own.


Read Marquis de Lafayette Returns


Walk in the footsteps of the Marquis de Lafayette as he makes a final trip through the young United States. Against the backdrop of a tumultuous election, a beloved hero of the American Revolution returned to America for the first time in forty years. From August 1824 to September 1825, the Marquis de Lafayette traveled throughout the United States, welcomed by thousands of admirers at each stop along the way. Although the tour brought him to each state in the Union, the majority of his time was spent in Washington, D.C., Virginia, and Maryland. Public historian Elizabeth Reese traces Lafayette's route throughout the National Capital Region, highlighting the locations and people the famous General held closest to his heart.

Available on Amazon


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Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Women of the Wars of the Roses

 


I know my readers will be thrilled with today's Women's History Month guest! Judith Arnopp joins us with a fantastic post about women of the Wars of the Roses, including Elizabeth of York, who is near and dear to my heart. Judith has written prolifically about this era, so check out her published works!

~ Samantha

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Women of the Wars of the Roses

Guest Post by Judith Arnopp

For the last four years I have been writing a trilogy from the perspective of Henry VIII, but my first love is giving a voice to medieval and Tudor women. I have written fifteen novels that trace events through the eyes of women and give voice to those who have been unheard for centuries. When you consider that females make up half the population, their experiences should be allowed to impact on the traditional record. In the past, they have been written off as inconsequential, but I’d dare you to tell that to Margaret Beaufort.

Margaret stands shoulder to shoulder with the most influential men of her time. Like her or not, her actions impacted on the world and they still do. Had Margaret not fought to restore her son, Henry VII’s rights and enabled him to take the crown of England, we’d have had no Henry VIII, no restoration, no Church of England. Hurrah, I hear some of you cry but whatever your religious persuasion, nobody can claim that Margaret made no difference.

I studied Margaret in depth for years while I wrote The Beaufort Chronicle, a trilogy tracing her life from the nursery to the grave, and I found nothing to account for the negative manner in which she is viewed today. She was pious, determined, charitable, kind and deeply mourned on her passing. Today however, largely due to negative portrayals on television and fiction, she is despised by many. In these enlightened days female strength is usually applauded, but in Margaret’s case, it seems not. 


Margaret is often blamed for the disappearance of the princes from the Tower, but there is nothing in the record to prove it; there are plenty of other candidates who could be held equally as culpable. Unauthorised entry to the Tower was just not possible; whatever the fate of the boys, it must have been carried out with either the knowledge of the king or the Constable of the Tower. 

When the war of the roses began, Margaret was a small insignificant child, yet she emerged as the ultimate victor – it never ceases to amaze me that this fact is uncelebrated. Perhaps it isn’t due to her gender at all, perhaps it is an age thing. Her portrait shows an old nun-like figure; she is praying, her hands clasped, her expression pious – she does not provide material for a romantic heroine and so she is defamed instead. We should not overlook the fact that as the victor in the conflict, Margaret had some control over contemporary public opinion, but even the records from overseas reveal nothing of detriment.

There are parallels between Margaret Beaufort and the historical figure I am currently working on, Marguerite of Anjou. The contemporary record holds plenty of negative criticism of her. Like Margaret Beaufort, she too fought for the rights of her son, but Marguerite emerged a failure from the struggles. When York assumed control of King Henry VI and ultimately took the throne, Marguerite, a dispossessed queen, did not retire genteelly from the battle – instead she fought tooth and nail for the sake of her son – like a ‘she-wolf’ according to Shakespeare. But I have to ask myself if I would not do the same for my sons. 

Her surviving letters are evidence that she did indeed fulfil her duties as queen, supporting her household, responding to requests for help, managing her estates, arranging diplomatic marriages and supporting religious houses. In 1448 she was active in founding Queens’ College, Cambridge. Yet even from the early days she was criticised for failing to provide an heir (no mention that the fault might not lie with her) yet once she gave birth to a strong son, York spread propaganda that the king was not the father.

Attrocities have been laid at Marguerite’s door, atrocities that were not ordered or carried out by Marguerite personally but committed by the men under her control. Since she was not even present, the most she can be accused of is losing control of her army. We hear much about the beheading and subsequent mock crowning of Richard of York and his son Edmund before their heads were raised on the city of York’s Micklegate bar, or Lancaster’s pillaging and looting of towns, yet the many offences York committed are often overlooked. 

The war of the roses was a military mess, with crimes and carnage on both sides and it is impossible to choose which side was justified. We still tend to view the war as a man’s game, but women were involved. Marguerite of Anjou, Cecily Neville, Anne Beauchamp, Jacquetta of Luxembourg, Elizabeth Woodville, Margaret Beauchamp, Margaret Beaufort, Anne and Isabel Neville, Elizabeth of York; they didn’t sit at home knitting while their husbands fought a bloody war. They may not have wielded a sword, but they were there, intriguing, negotiating, brokering peace deals, protecting their sons, guarding their property and in some cases leading armies. I never take sides in the war of the roses, but I enjoy the spectacle and I have learned that if the men fighting these battles were lions, then the women were tigers.


Connect with Judith

Award winning historical fiction author, Judith Arnopp, holds a Batchelor’s degree in English/Creative writing and a Masters in Medieval Studies. She lives on the coast of West Wales where she writes both fiction and non-fiction. She is best known for her novels set in the Medieval and Tudor period, focussing on the perspective of historical women and more recently from the perspective of Henry VIII himself.

Judith is also a founder member of a re-enactment group called The Fyne Companye of Cambria which is when she began to experiment with sewing historical garments. She now makes clothes and accessories both for the group and others. She is not a professionally trained sewer but through trial, error and determination has learned how to make authentic looking, if not strictly historically accurate clothing. Her non-fiction book about Tudor clothing How to Dress Like a Tudor was published by Pen and Sword in 2023.

Connect with Judith on her website or blog, and find her books here!

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Friday, March 8, 2024

Catharine Littlefield Greene: A Revolutionary Life


As my dear readers know, women of the American Revolution era have a big place in my heart, so I am pleased to have Salina Baker join us on the blog today with some brilliant insight into the life of Catharine Littlefield Greene, wife of General Nathanael Greene. Like Martha Washington, Abigail Adams, and countless others, Catharine saw her life and her marriage transformed by war.

Welcome, Salina! Thanks for celebrating Women's History Month with us!

~ Samantha

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Catharine Littlefield Greene: A Revolutionary Life

Guest Post by Salina Baker

Catharine Littlefield Greene was a product of the feminine sphere of women during the colonial period. Marriage was considered a critical event in the life of the early American woman. It raised her status socially but it also moved her from dependency on her family to dependency on her husband. When she married Nathanael Greene, a former Quaker and iron forage owner with a limp, asthma, a smallpox scar on his right eye and who hailed from a fairly well-to-do family, she believed that she would be settling down to a life of domestic tranquility. But as we shall see, things were different for Caty. An American Revolution was on the horizon and her husband’s direct and important influence in that revolution changed her domestic circumstances.

Convivial and beautiful with few women friends, poorly trained in domestic skills, and without her own home to settle down in, Caty found her own path that often led to history’s criticisms of her that may have been based in jealousies, misunderstandings, and Caty’s own struggle to be a part of the social whirl that accompanied the officers’ corps during the Revolutionary War. Caty Greene, unlike many of her colonial sisters, was not freed by the American Revolution. Only a personal tragedy could free a woman who defied the narrow perception of acceptable behavior.

Note: Caty burned all her letters to Nathanael therefore their relationship was interpreted through Nathanael’s letters and responses to her.

Catharine Littlefield Greene (Miller) circa 1809 artist unknown. Caty was mortified when she saw this painting of her.


May 1761, six-year-old Caty Littlefield watched her mother’s burial on Block Island off the coast of Rhode Island, an isolated place where her ancestors had lived since the 1660’s free from Massachusetts dogma, formal social rules, a hurried sense of time, and organized religion and schooling. Two years later, Caty was taken in by her namesake, her mother’s sister Catharine Ray Greene, a dark-haired violet-eyed beauty who Caty resembled. Aunt Catharine had once had a relationship with Benjamin Franklin who wanted more than the platonic handholding she was willing to offer. Now, she was married to William Greene, Jr. a Rhode Island politician who was distantly related to Nathanael Greene.

General Nathanael Greene. Painted by Charles Willson Peale 1783


Nathanael was a frequent visitor to the house in East Greenwich. Lacking a formal education as she did, the Caty he met there was comfortable in the society of men and her “power of fascination was absolutely irresistible.”  She was born on February 17, 1755, thirteen years younger than her future husband. Nathanael and Caty wed on July 20, 1774. They settled into Spell Hall his home in Coventry, Rhode Island, but those early days of tranquility were short lived.

Spell Hall, the Greene family homestead in Coventry, Rhode Island today.



The events in Massachusetts on April 19, 1775 when the British fired on civilians in Lexington and Concord changed all that. Nathanael, a private in the Kentish Guards a Rhode Island militia company, left to attend the siege of Boston. His militia company was sent home initially. Rhode Island then formed the Army of Observation. Nathanael had previously been denied officer status due to his limp that “was a blemish to the company.” Suddenly, the man the Kentish Guards considered to be a blemish incapable of cutting a physically shining figure was a brigadier general. He went home and showed Caty his commission. He and his men were sent to Roxbury, Massachusetts where they settled in with the Provincial Army.

General George Washington arrived in Cambridge, Massachusetts on July 2, 1775. The Continental Congress had appointed him commander-in-chief of the newly formed Continental Army of which the Provincial Army became a part. Washington saw in Nathanael Greene a man who loved his country, cared about his troops, was a strict disciplinarian, and an active soldier. Within the year, Nathanael was a major general in the Continental Army.  Caty was suddenly thrust into the role of a major general’s wife.

A whimsical drawing of Nathanael and Catharine Greene. Artist unknown.



She was determined to spend time with her husband at camp no matter where that was. Pregnant with their first child a son they named George Washington Greene, she initially traveled to Nathanael’s headquarters west of Boston in 1775. When she returned to Coventry, her lack of domestic skills, fear for Nathanael’s safety and pregnancy led to personal anxieties. She squabbled with her female in-laws who lived in her household in Coventry and those living in Nathanael’s childhood home in Potowomut.

Caty visited her husband at his headquarters as often as possible, with or without her children. As a general’s wife, she was naturally made the center of attention. She became close friends with Martha Washington and Lucy Knox. Her vivacious behavior elicited a spontaneous response from admiring gentlemen. She listened with genuine interest to stories told by men like General Israel Putnam. Young aides became smitten with her looks and playfulness, and Nathanael was delighted by their admiration. Even General Washington asked that she come to camp for her convivial nature brightened the hardest of winters. During an officers’ party in February 1780 at the Morristown, New Jersey encampment, Caty danced with General Washington for three hours straight without sitting down. Nathanael commented that they had “a pretty little frisk.”



In late spring 1776, whispers about Caty’s behavior circulated among her family members. In the winter of 1777, although they were very much in love, jealousies and insecurities surfaced between Caty and Nathanael. His admiration for Lady Stirling and Kitty, General Lord Alexander Stirling’s wife and daughter, and his reminder to watch her spelling when writing to the scholarly Lucy Knox lured Caty’s doubts about how much Nathanael loved her. His subsequent letters were an oxymoron of adoration or designed to make her jealous especially after he heard about the many parties Caty attended in Rhode Island:

“In the neighborhood of my quarters there are several sweet pretty Quaker girls. If the spirit should move and love invite who can be accountable for the consequences?” 

Yet many times he soothed her fears:

“Let me ask you soberly whether you estimate yourself below either of these ladies. You will answer me no, if you speak as you think. I declare upon my sacred honor I think they possess far less accomplishments than you, and as much as I respect them as friends, I should never be with them in a more intimate connection. I will venture to say there is no mortal more happy in a wife than myself.” 

Leaving her children with in-laws, Caty arrived in Valley Forge in 1778 where she met men like the Marquis de Lafayette, Baron von Steuben, and Alexander Hamilton while her jealousy simmered over the Stirling ladies. It was here she met General Anthony Wayne. An incurable ladies man, his wife never came to camp. Caty was stimulated by the company of this charming man. The whispered gossip began yet Nathanael remained unconcerned.

General Anthony Wayne


By the summer of 1780, she was back in Coventry. Nathanael’s new post was uncertain. Then, he was sent off to command the Southern Army to replace the disgraced General Horatio Gates. The Greene’s had no cash; only land in Rhode Island. While Nathanael bore the horrors of the Southern Campaign, forbidding Caty to join him, she was enjoying the social life in Newport among French soldiers.

After the British surrender in Yorktown, Virginia in October 1781, she traveled to South Carolina to join Nathanael at his headquarters near Charleston. She witnessed the devastation Nathanael had warned her of. After a twenty-three month separation, she found her husband much changed and worn down from the war and debt. Only land grants for his service in the Southern campaign stood between their family and utter financial ruin—Mulberry Grove plantation and holdings on Cumberland Island off the coast of Georgia. Anthony Wayne was granted the plantation adjacent to Mulberry Grove.

In 1785, Caty gave birth to their sixth child, Catharine. The infant died of whooping cough. Caty lay despondent for weeks. Nathanael hired a tutor for the children, a twenty-one year old graduate of Yale, Phineas Miller. The family moved to Mulberry Grove in November. Caty was pregnant again. Tragically in April 1786, she fell and gave birth to a premature daughter who died soon after.

By then, the Mulberry Grove plantation was thriving. The Greenes had a promising new start which came to an abrupt end on June 19, 1786, when Nathanael died of sunstroke at age 43. Caty soon learned the worst. Her husband died before he had made the barest beginning toward paying off the huge debts he owed to his creditors after borrowing money to equip his Southern Army. She would have to make a claim of indemnity to the government for reimbursement.

She poured her heart out to Jeremiah Wadsworth, one of Nathanael’s business partners and a man she had been attracted to for years. Wadsworth was married and had past indiscretions. Jealousy ignited between Miller and Wadsworth for Caty’s affections and Wadsworth’s support in settling her estate in Congress began to wane.

Jeremiah Wadsworth and his son Daniel. Painted by John Trumbull 1784.


In 1791, she stood before Congress with her indemnity claim that Alexander Hamilton had helped her prepare. Anthony Wayne held a seat in Congress and fought furiously for her settlement. On April 27, she was awarded $47,000 and for the first time since the war, her family was solvent. Soon after, Wayne disappeared from her life. He went west to join the military there. He died of complications from gout on December 15, 1796 during a return trip to Pennsylvania from a military post in Detroit.

By this time, Caty and Phineas Miller had drawn up a legal agreement concerning their relationship and prospective marriage. All five of her children were living at Mulberry Grove, but her oldest child, George, drowned in 1793 soon after coming home from France where he was attending school. In his late teens, George’s body was found on the banks of the Savannah River near Mulberry Grove. His body was taken down the river to the colonial cemetery in Savannah and was placed in the vault beside that of his father’s.

Enter Eli Whitney, a graduate of Yale who came south to accept a teaching position. Caty invited Eli to live in her home so he could read law and work on his new cotton gin invention. Phineas and Eli formed a business partnership with Caty as a silent backer to finance Whitney’s cotton gin invention.  However, the venture needed more capital than Caty could provide. Caty and Phineas invested in a land scheme—the Yazoo Company. The company collapsed and Caty once again faced poverty. She married Phineas later that year much to Eli’s chagrin for he was in love with her.

Eli Whitney


In 1800, Mulberry Grove was sold and the family moved to Cumberland Island at Dungeness where Nathanael, fourteen years before, had begun construction of his family’s future home. The island yielded everything the family needed to survive. Three years later at age thirty-nine, the gentle and faithful Phineas died of blood poisoning after pricking his finger on a thorn.

Caty was faced with selling Phineas’ part of the Miller estate which was tied up in his company with Whitney. There were also the settlements against her estate for legal fees, loans, etc. For a time, she sold live oaks to a lumber company in an effort to salvage the cotton gin company.

Eli Whitney returned to his home in New Haven, Connecticut yet he was tormented by his love for Caty. She was now past childbearing age and he wanted a family. She wrote him letters, cajoling him to come to her side, offering her sentiments on his health and his aloofness. She made a failed attempt at matching him with her youngest daughter, Louisa. On a trip to New York to endeavor to settle her final legal affairs with Nathanael’s and Phineas’ estates, she begged him to visit her. When he came at last, she recognized the final hopelessness of her dream of marriage with this man she badgered, pitied, worried over, and loved with all her heart. She often asked him to come back to Georgia to visit her, but he never returned.

On July 5, 1814, Caty wrote her last letter to Eli Whitney:

“We have a party of eighteen to eat Turtle with us tomorrow. I wish you were the nineteenth. Our fruit begins to flow in upon us—to partake of which I long for you… ”

She had grown and found as Nathanael once suggested, that self-pity made a sad companion. In the last week of August, Caty was struck with a fever. The same week the capital city of Washington lay in ruins, burned by the British. Caty never knew. She died on September 2, 1814.

Greene-Miller Cemetery on Cumberland Island at Dungeness


Despite history’s proverbial finger pointing about what she may have done during her marriage to Nathanael, Caty was a women whose strengths and weaknesses allowed her to face the consequences of war and meet them head on the rest of her life.

Resources:

Stegeman, John F. and Janet A. Caty A Biography of Catharine Littlefield Greene Athens, Georgia University of Georgia Press, 1977. Print.

Carbone, Gerald M. Nathanael Greene A Biography of the American Revolution, 2008. Print.

Thayer, Theodore. Nathanael Greene Strategist Of The American Revolution New York: Twayne Publishers, 1960. Print.

https://www.eliwhitney.org/7/museum/about-eli-whitney/inventor




Read more about Caty in Salina's novel, The Line of Splendor!


Connect with Salina Baker on her website to learn more about her writing and read more fascinating articles about the American Revolution!



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