The Contentious History of Midwifery in Massachusetts

In a speech given at the Obstetrical Society of Boston in December 1910, Dr. James Lincoln Huntington railed against midwifery-- a practice he viewed as a relic of a more primitive past. Denigrating the midwife as an “evil,” “ignorant,” and dangerous woman governed by superstition as opposed to science, Dr. Huntington advocated for new regulations and laws to curtail midwifery in Massachusetts. Huntington's vitriol against midwifery is representative of a larger movement in late 19th- and early 20th-century medicine to replace independent female caretakers with male “professionals,” but sorely downplays the essential roles midwives held for centuries, particularly in New England. One of the earliest European settlers to arrive on the Mayflower in 1620 was a midwife, and Huntington’s ancestors in western Massachusetts greatly depended on midwives.


Elizabeth Porter Phelps’ diary is peppered with accounts of midwife-assisted deliveries. In early August of 1772, Elizabeth detailed her own experience. After Elizabeth “perceived some alteration,” Charles sent for Mrs. Elizabeth Parsons Allen, a midwife in Northampton who throughout her career oversaw more than 3,000 births across Hampshire county, and “just six minutes before six in the morning,” little Charles was born. In August of 1803, Elizabeth wrote to her daughter describing the delivery of her daughter-in-law, Sally, “One more birth has been in this house… I feel as if my head was turned.” When Sally began to feel contractions, Charles Phelps fetched Elizabeth’s friends, Penelope Gaylord and Dorothy Warner, and the midwife Mrs. Eunice Allen Breck, Elizabeth Allen’s daughter. Unless a doctor was called in for an emergency operation, birth remained a strictly female affair; with the women attending often astutely aware of the laboring woman’s pain. Betsey’s difficult delivery of her son, Theodore, in February 1813, for instance, required multiple healers, and thus a male physician, Dr. Osborn, was present. Dr. Osborn arrived with “instruments of dissection,” and collaborated with the midwife to ensure the safe delivery of the child. 

Midwifery also held an important societal role as midwives were often expected to uncover the identity of the father-- an answer obtained during the height of labor pains to ensure honesty. This information was vital to determine the child’s future source of financial support, and midwives often testified in court cases. A midwife’s testimony won Hadley resident Mirian Pierce alimony from the alleged father of her child, Samuel Cooke II, despite his vehement denials. Cooke was ordered to provide “35 pounds, 13 shillings, and 6 pence for maintenance of the child to date” and to pay for Mirian’s legal fees. Cooke was also mandated to pay a weekly forty shillings and continued to do so for seven years. 


Most towns, especially rural communities, had at least one midwife. Midwifery afforded a woman a stable income and a decent amount of status in her community and was a tradition typically passed down through generations. In Hampshire County, Elizabeth Allen gave her medical textbooks, sidesaddle, and personal knowledge to her daughter, Eunice. The intergenerational nature of the position partially accounts for the dominance of midwives as opposed to doctors in the field of childbirth, as these women simply had more experience. Prominent Maine midwife Martha Moore Ballard, living in Augusta from 1778-1812, delivered around 1,000 babies and was much esteemed in her community. Ballard did not deliver her first child in Maine until the age of forty-three, but in her hometown of Oxford, Massachusetts Ballard witnessed many births conducted by older women and thus gained vital experience. Ballard also came from a family with a strong medical background-- an uncle was a doctor, and both of her sisters married doctors. In Ballard’s meticulous records she only called for a doctor twice in her career. Male doctors were not necessarily more competent in obstetrics than female midwives. In fact, Ballard noted numerous errors of the celebrated Dr. Benjamin Page, who arrived in Hallowell in 1791-- a testament to her greater knowledge. Ballard described one such incident when an elite family insisted on having a doctor present during their daughter Hannah Sewall’s delivery. 

They were intimidated & Calld Dr. Page who gave my patient 20 drops of Laudanum which put her into such a stupor her pains (which were regular & promising) in a manner stopt till near night when she pukt & they returned & shee delivered at 7 hour Evening of a son her first Born.

Ballard also wrote of another time when one woman giving birth “was delivered of a dead daughter on the morning of the 9th instant, the operation performed by Ben Page. The infants limbs were much dislocated as I am informed." And later described Dr. Page as a “Poor unfortunate man in the practice. Whether male or female, experience was the determining factor in a midwife’s success; even so, Martha Moore Ballard remains largely unknown in the local history books while Dr. Benjamin Page received much acclaim, particularly for his contributions to the field of obstetrics. 

Societal obstacles for male midwifery were also present. Male practitioners of midwifery were met with fierce opposition and suspicion. After attempting to practice midwifery as a man in 1646, Francis Rayus of Massachusetts received a fine of fifty shillings and scorn from his community. The delivery room was not a welcoming realm for men; during the colonial period, midwives were often mandated to swear an oath to keep men out of the “lying-in chamber” unless necessitated by an emergency. Part of this opposition rested in the conservative desire to preserve female purity, “delicacy,” and moral standards. By the late eighteenth century, affluent women were far more likely to employ male doctors, believing modern medical science would lessen the excruciating pain of childbirth, although midwifery still maintained its primacy. These doctors opted towards privatizing the experience of childbirth: conducting deliveries in dark rooms, covering the patient in cloth, and prohibiting female friends and relatives from assisting with the pregnancy. 

“The Man-Midwife, or Female Delicacy after Marriage… 
Addressed to Husbands”A jealous husband looks with disdain at the male midwife tending to his pregnant wife.

The Man-Midwife, or Female Delicacy after Marriage… 
Addressed to Husbands

A jealous husband looks with disdain at the male midwife tending to his pregnant wife.

Male domination of obstetrics, coming to fruition in the twentieth century, was a gradual and hard-fought outcome. The growing influence of European medicine in the late eighteenth century, a result of more Americans studying abroad, resulted in a new interest in male midwifery (to be renamed obstetrics in 1828). William Shippen, an American doctor who studied abroad, returned to America mind-brimming with scientific techniques and modern technologies to aid in childbirth-- including forceps to move the fetus, laudanum to ease pain, and ergot to induce a hasty delivery. Shippen became the first man to teach midwifery in American medical schools in 1762 and thus began his lifelong crusade to legitimize obstetrics. Male obstetricians attempted to recast childbirth as a process requiring highly skilled medical intervention-- care only trained male doctors could provide. The timing coincided with the Victorian era belief that women were incapable of learning complex medical and scientific treatments. In 1848, one doctor and professor of medicine, Charles Meigsm wrote: a woman “has a head almost too small for intellect but just big enough for love.” Unsurprisingly, female midwives were excluded from advanced medical training or could not afford the same expensive new technology male obstetricians owned. In time, the chosen attendant at childbirth became inextricably linked to class. Lower-class women typically employed the cheaper expertise of the midwife, whereas upper- and middle-class women increasingly opted for a more interventionist male physician who provided painkillers as well as a certain amount of social cachet.

From the mid-nineteenth century to the early twentieth century, male obstetricians worked tirelessly to further legitimize their position and turn public favor against midwives, exploiting women’s fears of childbirth and midwives’ often foreign backgrounds. The presence of midwives in medicine posed a problem for male obstetricians: non-traditionally educated immigrants and black women successfully performed many of the same tasks as male obstetricians, suggesting that childbirth did not require some occult medical knowledge to be safe and successful. Prominent obstetrician Joseph B. De Lee even accused midwives of delaying the advance of obstetrics, insisting, “as long as the medical profession tolerates that brand of infamy, the midwife, the public will not be brought to realize that there is high art in obstetrics and that it must pay as well for it as for surgery.” Clearly, De Lee was partially motivated by financial incentives and the boost to his field’s prestige at the fall of midwives.  

Dr. James Lincoln Huntington, the founder of the Porter-Phelps-Huntington House, was among the most vocal of these male obstetricians. In an essay and speech Huntington co-authored with Dr. Arthur Brester Emmons at the Boston Obstetrical Society meeting in December 1910, “A Review of the Midwife Situation,” the two men condemned midwifery. The doctors suggested policy changes to prosecute midwives more easily in Massachusetts and to strip them of their right to practice. Huntington and Emmons both reiterated De Lee’s assertion of the strictly scientific nature of obstetrics, “Bacteriology, antiseptic and aseptic surgery have put obstetrics on an entirely different basis, raising it to the position, sociologically at least, of the most important branch of surgery.” The men did not veil their contempt for independent female medical care that midwifery entailed, promoting instead “the efficient trained nurse of to-day, acting in harmony with the doctor, who carries the responsibility.” When discussing midwives in Germany, male obstetricians also suggested their hesitancy about trusting women’s ability to safely treat patients: 

In the first place, one observing the work of the midwife in the confinement wards is struck by her lack of what is known as the aseptic conscience; that is, the knowledge that she is or is not surgically clean. After faithfully scrubbing her hands for the allotted fifteen minutes she will unconsciously touch something outside of the sterile field and continue as if surgically clean… But if the midwife makes these breaks in the hospital under the eyes of her instructor, and in ideal surroundings for surgical cleanliness, how much more likely will she be to fall into careless ways when out alone in a peasant’s house?

The men instead hailed Ireland’s system of midwifery, where midwives acted under the close supervision of “medical men,” as a paradigm to be emulated in Massachusetts. The men quoted an anonymous Massachusetts physician who wrote in 1802 as another authority on the matter:

As medical science has im[proved], it seems at last to have been settled that physicians regularly educated could alone be adequate to the exigencies of obstetric practice… Among ourselves, it is scarcely more than half a century since females were almost the only accoucheurs. It was one of the first and happiest fruits of improved medical education in America that they were excluded from the practice.

Xenophobia was perhaps another source of these men’s anxiety towards midwifery, as they specifically blamed the “midwife-habit” on “the mighty river of emigration which has swept into this country within the last half-century.” The two doctors were especially concerned about the lack of collective public disapproval of the practice of midwifery, “What we must first do is to arouse public sentiment, and first of all, we must have the enthusiastic support and united action of the medical fraternity.” In the conclusion of this speech the men verbally attacked the midwife once more, describing her as “ignorant, half-trained, often malicious,” and insisting that, “women and infants pay for this “freedom” in deaths, unnecessary invalidism, and blindness. This reference to deaths is another critical factor in the attack on midwives by male obstetricians. At a time when high infant mortality rates in the United States were being questioned, obstetricians were eager to shift the blame from their still relatively new branch of medicine to midwives who lacked the same ability to defend themselves.

Sources:

Huntington, James Lincoln, and Arthur Brewster Emmons. “A Review of the Midwife Situation.” Boston Medical and Surgical Journal 164, no. 81 (1911).

Miller, Marla R. Entangled Lives: Labor, Livelihood, and Landscapes of Change in Rural Massachusetts. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2019. =

Schrom Dye, Nancy. “History of Childbirth in America.” Women, Sex, and Sexuality, Autumn, 6, no. 1 (1980): 97–108.

Sullivan, Deborah A. “The Decline of Traditional Midwifery in America.” Essay. In Labor Pains: Modern Midwives and Home Birth, edited by Rose Weitz, 1–22. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1988.

Thatcher Ulrich, Laurel. “‘The Living Mother of a Living Child: Midwifery and Mortality in Post-Revolutionary New England.The William and Mary Quarterly 46, no. 1 (January 1989): 27–48.

Schoolgirl Art Needlework Samplers

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From the mid 18th to the mid 19th century, one of the most distinctive milestones in a girl’s education was the creation of a needlework sampler. A sampler - defined as a piece of needlework with various stitches- was part of the learning process for young girls to attain skills in sewing. A young girl would usually begin to sew around the age of six, often taught by her mother or another woman in the family. By the age of eight or nine girls would complete a first sampler; a piece usually composed of the alphabet, numbers, a Bible verse, or a quote about morality. The sampler piece above was created in 1814 by Bethia Huntington at just eight years old and serves as an excellent example to these preliminary works completed at a young age. The bottom line of Bethia’s work reads “Middletown,” a nod to when her father, Dan Huntington, moved the family from Litchfield to Middletown in 1809 for seven years while he was a minister at the First Congregational Church in Middletown. In 1816 they returned to Hadley after the death of the children’s grandfather, Charles Phelps.

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 Another wonderful sampler in the Porter-Phelps-Huntington collection was wrought by Eliza Fitch Lyon at eight years old. Born in 1817, Eliza was the daughter of Maria Warner and Samuel Huntington Lyon. In 1827 she married Theophilus Parsons Huntington in Hadley, where they settled down to raise their three children. Eliza’s piece offers more insight into these initial samplers and is comprised of an alphabet with a supplemental Bible quote and botanical detailing. She takes her work to the next level with the inclusion of intricate floral patterns weaving throughout the piece. If you look closely under the cursive N through X, she experiments with fading blue thread into yellow. The detailing of this piece is quite remarkable regardless of age. Eliza includes numerous fonts and colors and has a keen eye for the details of the flora she includes at the bottom of the piece.

As skills in sewing progressed, plants, animals, or other objects copied from a pattern would sometimes supplement the writing. The execution of writing on samplers with increasingly more intricate designs and motifs provided practice for detailed stitching, along with the hope that producing works with such sentiments would foster virtue by publicly exhibiting morality and accomplishment. In the 19th century, the Pioneer Valley was known in the embroidery world for its “White Dove Style.” This style of sewing white doves emerged in the 1790’s and its popularity continued into the following few decades. Although there are no White Dove pieces at the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum, the collection contains several sewing samplers; one created by Bethia Huntington in 1814 (shown above) and another by Mary Huntington in 1826 when she was eleven. These works were displayed in homes with pride and as visual representations of their young daughter’s accomplishments.

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By the time a young woman reached the age of fourteen it could be expected that she would have created several sewing samplers. Next would come a mixed media figurative scene, interchangeably referred to as either a pictorial scene or a silk embroidery. More than not these works incorporated other mediums such as watercolors into the needlework craft. For example, the piece above beautifully incorporates silk, watercolor, and satin. The plethora of mediums not only adds richness in texture but helps guide the eye through the depth of the harbor. Works as such tended to be very expensive to produce because they required several different skilled craftspeople to assist in creating the final product. Pieces as such not only showcased a young woman’s talent, but the aptitude to learn such craft implied the wealthy economic status of someone who could afford that kind of education.


When the Porter family crest was embroidered by Elizabeth Porter Phelps (circa 1760 - 1817), it was compiled from a painting on wood panel acquired by her mother, Elizabeth Pitkin Porter. The crest depicts five wings central to a plethora of vines and beautifully detailed birds of paradise. A coat of arms was a significant symbol for elite families in the Connecticut River Valley. Embroidering such was the height of needlework arts, as it created the “perfect form for displaying needlework, education, leisure, status, and family allegiance.” In this case Elizabeth may have been taught by her mother or other family members. Typically, such wonderfully elaborate embroidery would have been displayed in the parlor of the home for visitors to see. Although we know from the archives of her grandchildren that she likely commenced the project as part of her schooling at a young age, left it unfinished and returned to it in the final years of her life.

 This article is based off previous research done by Mount Holyoke College alum, Ann Hewitt. Her work on needlework is a part of her larger research paper Becoming Accomplished: The Porter Phelps Huntington Daughters. Her preliminary research on needlework was further edited and continued by Museum Assistant Evelyn Foster.

Sources

Alice M. Earl, Childlife in Colonial Days (Norwood, MA: Norwood Press, 1899), 17.

 https://www.pphmuseum.org/epp-needlework.

 “Object of the Month Archive About.” Massachusetts Historical Society. Accessed July 26, 2021. https://www.masshist.org/object-of-the-month/objects/schoolgirl-needlework-2002-08-01. 

 Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers, 1698 - 1968 (Bulk: 1800 - 1950).

 “The ABCs of Schoolgirl SAMPLERS: Girls' Education and Needlework from a Bygone Era.” Milwaukee Public Museum. Accessed July 26, 2021. https://www.mpm.edu/research-collections/history/online-collections-research/schoolgirl-samplers. 

 

Botany and Watercolors

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The Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum has three watercolors noted as “Pictures (3), framed flower, watercolor. Made by Dan and Elizabeth Huntington's daughters at Miss Willard's School in Troy.”While it is uncertain which Huntington daughter can be ascribed as the artist, Elizabeth b. 1803, Bethia b. 1805, Mary b. 1815, and Catherine b. 1817 all attended the Emma Willard School where they had a rich exposure to the art of watercolors. The first watercolor in the collection is painted entirely in neutral hues. This process was typically used in the first quarter of the 19th century for “washing the shaded part of any colored flower or leaf” in shades of blue and black, later to be painted over in full color. These neutral colors served as a base for other pigments to be built on. Upon careful examination it appears that there may be two different plants flourishing from one stem: there are three large white flowers that emerge from extensions of the branch, as well as smaller blue bell-shaped blossoms below. The two flowers could represent two various stages of growth for one flower; however, they lack a similarity in appearance. There is also the question of whether the painting was finished. According to the 19th century guide, A Series of Progressive Lessons, Intended to Elucidate the Art of Flower Painting in Water Colours, the neutral wash was typically applied halfway as an undercoat for the actual color. For example, the next piece, a painting of blue flowers surrounded by lush green leaves, is fully colored, including the stem which is rendered in a dark greenish brown. If you look at the leaves on the left side of the painting, the inner halves are much darker than the outer. This is a perfect example of a student using a neutral tint to shade in the plant, and then painting over it with the intended color.

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 The two paintings mentioned above are likely to have been painted after Elizabeth and Dan Huntington’s daughters gained experience with watercolors. It is also quite clear that they had studied botany, based on the intricate study of veins, stems, and shading. The third watercolor in the collection is quite different: a bouquet of orange and pale purple flowers with thick green leaves. It is worth noting that it seems to have been painted by someone with less experience. The student attempted to capture the orange flowers from different viewpoints as some turn outwards to the viewer and others are seen from the back and profile. The central part of the composition is comprised of a large purple-white flower. It looks like the student tried to portray the flowers tubular center with a dark circle at the core. However, the lack of perspective and bold outlines imply that the student was unfamiliar with conveying depth as well as the anatomy of plants. The stems are shakily painted, and the shading of each petal is somewhat inconsistent with harsher outlines instead of soft shading. Rather than a bouquet employing depth and careful consideration of the plant’s anatomy, it is very two-dimensional.

The ability to paint was considered essential for an established young lady in the early 19th century. It signified that she was educated and refined and was often taught at institutions where middle- and upper-class families sent their daughters. Simultaneously, the 19th century reached a high level of achievement for botanical illustration. The sciences, which were encouraged through exhibitions around the world, utilized the art of botany, which worked in tandem to supplement scientific writing. Painting such an intricate and delicate subject took much practice, and these works showcase the culmination of progress.

 Watercolors were considered an important part of education at the Emma Willard School. In 1823, Almira Phelps, the younger sister of Emma Willard, accepted her sister's invitation to teach at the school where she remained for eight years. While teaching at the Emma Willard School, Almira developed a keen interest in botany. In 1829 she wrote her first and most successful textbook, Familiar Lectures on Botany. Over the course of the next forty plus years, the textbook went through twenty-eight different printings - each illustrated with various woodcuts and engravings. Almira Phelps believed that watercolors were the most appropriate technique to learn, as the “kind of painting most convenient for ladies; it can be performed with neatness, and without the disagreeable smell which attends on oil painting.” Almira also taught a brief history of art that focused on the classical world, and gave summaries of the major schools of art. Her lecture on flower painting touches on how it can assist the study of botany in a similar vein to her introduction on watercolors: “the study of botany seems peculiarly adapted to females; the objects of its investigation are delicate; its pursuits, leading to exercise in the open air, are conductive to health and cheerfulness.” As an accomplished botanist herself, Almira stressed the importance to take time to observe and take note of the “very distinctive characteristics of particular species of plants might be disregarded in [the flowers] delineation” which makes one wonder whether the girls were looking at a real plant, or drawing upon memory, and, if these watercolors were intended as a form of scientific illustration.

 As previously mentioned, these paintings have no exact provenance. It is unclear exactly which Huntington daughter created them. Despite being a family that was so well documented, with extensive letters and diaries, these watercolors may have been lost in translation. A good guess as to who the artist might be is Bethia Huntington. She attended the Emma Willard School (circa 1820). When she returned home, she wrote to her younger sisters Mary and Catherine in the 1830’s who were then at the Emma Willard School with updates about how the plants were doing with concise notes about their growth. In her letters, she writes about her passion for flowers, and cared deeply about the family garden.

 This article is based off previous research done by Mount Holyoke College alum, Ann Hewitt. Her work on watercolors is a part of her larger research paper Becoming Accomplished: The Porter Phelps Huntington Daughters. Her preliminary research on watercolors was further edited and continued by Museum Assistant Evelyn Foster. 

Sources

Anonymous. A Series of Progressive Lessons, Intended to Elucidate the Art of Flower 

Painting in Water Colours (Classic Reprint). 30.

Barryte, Bernard. “Almira Phelps.” History of American Women, May 24, 2020. 

https://www.womenhistoryblog.com/2013/08/almira-phelps.html. 

Eiseman, Alberta. “EDUCATING 19th-CENTURY SCHOOLGIRLS.” The New York 

Times. The New York Times, August 31, 1986. 

https://www.nytimes.com/1986/08/31/nyregion/educating-19thcentury-schoolgirls.

html. 

Huntington, Bethia or Mary. “Blue Flowers with Green Leaves.” Unknown. Watercolors. 

Porter-Phelps-Huntington Foundation.

Huntington, Bethia or Mary. “Bouquet of White and Yellow Flowers.” Unknown. 

Watercolors. Porter-Phelps-Huntington Foundation.

Huntington, Bethia or Mary. “Grey and Black Spray of Flowers.” Unknown. Watercolors. 

Porter-Phelps-Huntington Foundation.

Huntington, Mary. Mary Huntington ‘to’ Bethia Huntington. Letters. Box 20. Amherst 

College Archives & Special Collections. Porter Phelps Huntington Papers.

Phelps, Mrs. Lincoln. The Female Student. Leavitt, Lord & Company, 1836, 385, 371.

Rudolph, E. (1984). Almira Hart Lincoln Phelps (1793 - 1884) and the Spread of Botany 

in Nineteenth Century America. American Journal of Botany, 71(8), 382, 1161 - 

1167.

Schmidt M. Alesandra, Jacoby B. Trudy. “Herbs to Orchards: Botanical Illustration in the 

Nineteenth Century.” Watkinson Publications. 3.

 

 

Charting Map Making at the Emma Willard School

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The Porter-Phelps-Huntington House Museum collection includes an undated, hand drawn map; Map of Europe, wrought by Elizabeth Huntington. The second child of Elizabeth Whiting Phelps and Dan Huntington, Elizabeth was born in 1803 in Litchfield, CT. Elizabeth completed this map at the Emma Willard school, located in Troy, New York, a female seminary founded by Emma Hart Willard with the goal of providing women with equal educational opportunities to their male counterparts. The choice of sending the Huntington daughters to Emma Willard School was most likely because of family relations. Emma Willard’s sister, Almira Hart Lincoln, married John Phelps in 1831. John Phelps was the younger brother of Charles Phelps (b. 1772), Elizabeth’s grandfather. Emma Willard’s son also lived with the Huntington’s at Forty Acres while he attended Hadley’s Hopkins Academy. The Emma Willard School opened its doors in 1821 with 90 students from across the country, one of which was Elizabeth. Their daughters Bethia and Mary also attended the school, and references to their enrollment can be found in family correspondence. Following her graduation from Emma Willard, Elizabeth went on to teach at the school.

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Even though there is no date on the map, we can place it around the time when ‘mappery’, or map making, was beginning to take shape as an integral part of the American educational system. In the late 18th century, schoolgirl maps became increasingly popular. After the revolution, female academies and Quaker religious institutions assured that mappery was for all students, regardless of gender or economic background. Students with less financial means would often use the spare blank pages in the back of books for their map-making studies. In comparison, wealthier students had access to notebooks dedicated to this subject. In the years to follow, the publishing of geography textbooks boomed, thus allowing for the dissemination of geographical information. Two textbooks commonly used in mappery education was Jedidiah Morse’s Geography Made Easy and Joseph Goldsmith’s A View of the Earth, which further encouraged educators in the 18th century to implement uniform standards in map making education. One book in the collection of the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum wonderfully encapsulates these academic visions. Written by Samuel Butler and published in 1826, An Atlas of Ancient Geography consists of “21-colored maps with a complete accentuated index.” These maps are much smaller than the one by Elizabeth (they measure about 9 ¾” by 7 ½”), however they show a similar level of detail as well as intricate labels that guide the reader through the respective region. Dr. Butler is the author of numerous other geography texts including A Sketch of Modern and Ancient Geography, for the Use of Schools.  Emma Willard also wrote one of the most widely printed textbooks and one of the first historical atlases of the United States: Ancient Atlas to Accompany the Universal Geography by William Woodbridge and Emma Willard was first published in 1828 in tandem with Willard’s History of the United States, or Republic of America: Exhibited in Connection with its Chronology and Progressive Geography by Means of a Series of Maps. Together these two works were the first to treat American geography and history as interdependent subjects, employing maps as an essential pedagogical tool. Willard used the spatial dimension of the American past to engage students, integrate history and identity, and – most importantly – to consolidate national identity. At such a prestigious institution, mappery was accepted as one of the first appropriate subject for girls and was frequently used as a path for literacy.

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In school, mappery held a different significance for boys and girls. For the men, it was presented as a way to teach skills of survival and navigation, while for women it was often an exercise in precision, an aid to retain general knowledge, and a way to show off artistic talent, particularly for handwriting and lettering skills. According to the American historian and Professor Susan Schulten, an aim of female education after the American Revolution was to “prepare [young women] for a life of usefulness and social exchange.” Mappery was thought to fulfill those goals and help young women become culturally literate. This is wonderfully evident in Elizabeth’s map with its precise line work and artistic labels. Her map not only demonstrates the high skill level it took to achieve such accuracy, but also the rigorous mappery education allocated to students in the 18th century and onwards, especially at prestigious institutions like Emma Willard.

Other recordings of mappery are present outside of Elizabeth’s work. Martin Brückner, the author of The Geographic Revolution in Early America, discusses the 1800 diary written by 15-year-old Sally Ripley of Greenfield, Massachusetts who noted learning geography several times a week throughout the school year. Equally, Catherine Beecher a student at Litchfield Female Academy “found grammar, arithmetic, geography, history, and the ‘Accomplishments’ of map-drawing, painting, embroidery, and piano available.” An example belonging to Sarah Miller included one page with a hand drawn map of Vermont and Connecticut, with the towns in both states running parallel to each other, indicating an initial attempt at mappery. 

Elizabeth’s map of Europe drawn with black ink on canvas was quite large with a width of 22 ¼” and a height of 18 ¼”. Despite some fading, the careful borders and intricate calligraphy are still visible and showcase immense attention to detail. The art of successful mappery, (as seen by Elizabeth’s map), could be divided into three components: proficiency in map reading, map drawing, and map transfer. Map reading, the most common method in mappery education, is the recollection of place names and their locations. Map transfer was a more tactile approach to mappery, originally a way for younger students to learn about geography in a tangible manner. Educators would ‘transfer’ a map into a different medium, such as a tactile cloth puzzle. Map drawing was a labor-intensive process, and several methods were taught. The first method was to place a grid over both the map, and the drawing paper. The student would look at the gridded map and draw what was in each corresponding square. The lines of latitude and longitude on Elizabeth’s map are warped in similar ways which indicates that Elizabeth may have implemented the Mercator projection method, which was used to accurately represent cylindrical projection on a 2D surface. With the rise of female academies, map transfer evolved into a new medium such as embroidery. Although there are no embroidered maps in the Porter-Phelps-Huntington collection, Elizabeth Huntington’s map is an admirable example of map drawing that provides further insight into mappery education of the 18th century and is on display in the pine room at the museum.

This article is based off of previous research done by Mount Holyoke College alum, Ann Hewitt. Her work on mappery is a part of her larger research paper Becoming Accomplished: The Porter Phelps Huntington Daughters. Her preliminary research on mappery was further edited and continued by Museum Assistant Evelyn Foster.


Sources:

Brückner Martin. The Geographic Revolution in Early America: Maps, Literacy, and National Identity. Williamsburg, VA: University of North Carolina Press, 2006.

Brückner, Martin. The Social Life of Maps in America, 1750-1860. Omohundro Institute of Early American History & Culture and UNCP, 2017.

Buehler, Michael. “A Landmark Historical Atlas by Emma Willard, America's First Female Map Maker.” Boston Rare Maps. Accessed July 7, 2021. https://bostonraremaps.com/inventory/1829-emma-willard-historical-atlas/.

Butler, Samuel. An Atlas of Ancient Geography. London: Longman, Rees, Orme Brown & Green, 1826.

Hewitt, Ann. Interview with Karen Sánchez-Eppler, January 17, 2020.

Huntington, Bethia or Mary. “Watercolors,” n.d. Porter-Phelps-Huntington Foundation. Hadley, MA.

Huntington, Elizabeth. “Map of Europe.” n.d. Porter-Phelps-Huntington Foundation.

Mason, Betsy. “19th-Century Schoolgirls Were Incredibly Good at Drawing Maps.” Culture. National Geographic, May 4, 2021. https://www.nationalgeographic.com/culture/article/schoolgirl-maps-drawings-19th-century.

Morse, Jedidiah. Geography Made Easy. Boston, MA: Published by Thomas & Andrews, 1813.

Schulten, Susan. “Emma Willard and the Graphic Foundations of American History.” Journal of Historical Geography 33, no. 3 (2007): 542–64. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jhg.2006.09.003.


The Women of Phelps Farm: Sarah Phelps and Ruth Huntington Sessions

A portrait Sarah Phelps by her niece Ellen Bullfinch.

“Our glance rests more gladly upon the gentle lady herself, portrayed as we last saw her, with the lace cap on her soft white locks and the bit of black velvet at one side, which brought out the rosy softness of her cheek.”[2]

Sarah Phelps was born in 1805, the third child of Moses “Charles” Porter Phelps or “Porter” and Sarah Parsons Phelps. In 1817, her father made the decision to move his family from Boston to a home he built in 1816 on land he acquired after the death of his father. Phelps Farm was just across the street from his childhood home, Forty Acres. In the process of moving, Sarah’s mother, Sarah Parsons Phelps died of Typhus. Porter, Sarah, and her five siblings moved to Phelps Farm with Charlotte Parsons, her mother’s cousin, who helped care for the family. Charlotte and Porter later married in 1820 and had four surviving children. Charlotte died in 1830. Porter died in 1857, leaving Sarah to care for her brothers Theophilus, Billy, and Charles who remained at home.[1]  

Ruth Huntington Sessions remembers her cousin Sarah Phelps throughout her writing. Ruth grew up spending her summers at Forty Acres. She spent time with her cousins Sarah, Theophilus, Billy, Charles, Caroline, and Ellen. After Sarah died, her sister Charlotte and her daughter Ellen Bulfinch inherited the house. It is unclear where the three brothers lived during this period. In the summer of 1892, Bishop Frederic Dan Huntington, Ruth’s father, rented Phelps Farm from the Bulfinches for Ruth and her husband Archie for the summer. Ruth and Archie lived in Brooklyn where Ruth longed for the countryside where she had spent her childhood summers. The following year, Frederic Dan purchased Phelps Farm from Ellen Bulfinch, making it Ruth’s summer home in 1893.

It is clear in Sixty Odd, Ruth’s memoir, and in “A Lady’s Reading Eighty Years Ago,” printed in the October 1899 issue of The New England Magazine, that once Ruth arrived to live at Phelps Farm, she felt a deep connection to Sarah. When Ruth wrote this story, she had been living at Phelps Farm for seven summers and felt a profound connection to her cousins and to the history of the house, as described in Sixty Odd,

As we opened the door and entered in, it was like being suddenly touched with the spirit of the old Phelps ancestors, and finding unseen personalities waiting for us with a welcome. [3]

Upon her initial inspection of the house as described in her memoir, Sixty Odd, Ruth chose Sarah’s bedroom to be her own.

In “A Lady’s Reading Eighty Years Ago,” Ruth illuminates Sarah’s life at Phelps Farm. Ruth also delves into Sarah’s intellectual history by exploring her library. She refers to Sarah as “Miss Lucia” to protect her identity. Ruth remembers Sarah in the beginning of the story,

A glance from her keen, dark eyes, glowing to the last with the last with the fire of appreciation and sparkle of wit, might have convinced once that the young Boston beauty who, in the midst of her girlish conquests and gay companionship, was called to turn her back upon life, as it were, and settle down into monotonous existence for scores of years, did not acquiesce in this without full realization of the joys she was leaving, and did not voluntarily resign the interchange of thought and repartee to which she had long been accustomed.[4]

Ruth believed that Sarah gave up her independence and prospects in life to become the unmarried caretaker of her siblings after her mother’s death and the move to Phelps Farm.

Ruth found hope and hints of agency in Sarah’s life through her library works of various genres: poetry, cooking, education, travel, history, philosophy, biography, French, and  novels. Ruth concludes after reading poetry in Sarah’s library that,

It is pleasant to think that by lines like these an optimism and courage were kept alive which made life bearable even in the seclusion of an Old farm, amid the performance of harsh duties and dreary association with decayed or repressed mental powers.[5]

Sarah’s library, for Ruth, was an important tool in understanding her personality and capabilities; giving the family caretaker a world outside of her life at Phelps Farm.


To continue reading “A Lady’s Reading Eighty Years Ago” click HERE or on the image of the page above. The story is printed on pages 145-153 of the October 1899 issue of The New England Magazine and has been digitized by Google from an original at University of Iowa. It can also be found in Box 126, Folder 43 of the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers on deposit at Amherst College.


Notes

[1] See Ruth Huntington Sessions’ Sixty Odd pages 128-131 for Ruth’s memories of Theophilus, Billy, and Charles.

[2] Ruth Huntington Sessions, A Lady’s Reading Eighty Years Ago, The New England Magazine, October 1899, 153, https://hdl.handle.net/2027/iau.31858019466519?urlappend=%3Bseq=165.

[3] Ruth Huntington Sessions, Sixty Odd: A Personal History, (Brattleboro: Stephen Daye Press: 1936), 298.

[4] Ruth Huntington Sessions, A Lady’s Reading Eighty Years Ago, The New England Magazine, October 1899, 145, https://hdl.handle.net/2027/iau.31858019466519?urlappend=%3Bseq=165.

[5]Ruth Huntington Sessions, A Lady’s Reading Eighty Years Ago, The New England Magazine, October 1899, 151, https://hdl.handle.net/2027/iau.31858019466519?urlappend=%3Bseq=165.

Bibliography 

Amherst College Archives and Special Collections. “Description of the Papers.” Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers. https://asteria.fivecolleges.edu/findaids/ amherst/ma30_odd.html#odd-cpp

Carlisle, Elizabeth Pendergast. Earthbound and Heavenbent: Elizabeth Porter Phelps and Life at Forty Acres, 1747-1817. New York: Scribner, 2004.

Sessions, Ruth Huntington. “A Lady’s Reading Eighty Years Ago.” The New England Magazine, October 1899, HaithiTrust, digitized by Google from an original at University of Iowa. https://hdl.handle.net/2027/iau.31858019466519?urlappend=%3Bseq=159

Sessions, Ruth Huntington. Sixty Odd: A Personal History. Brattleboro: Stephen Daye Press, 1936. https://hdl.handle.net/2027/mdp.39015011951129.

Embroidered Samplers and Women’s Education in 19th Century America

In early 19th Century America, young girls were predominantly educated within the home. Although many girls in prominent, wealthy families could attend dame schools, their education was limited to what would prepare them for their future roles as wives and mothers. Different expectations of the roles of men and women meant vastly different approaches to their educations. In the late 18th Century, embroidered samplers played a crucial role in a young girl’s education. Not only did these samplers teach girls basic embroidery techniques, but they also learned the alphabet, numbers, and sometimes a biblical verse. At the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum, we have on display four samplers embroidered by Mary Dwight Huntington, Bethia Throop Huntington, Catherine Whiting Fisher, and Eliza Fitch Lyon. Growing up just before women’s colleges like Mount Holyoke, founded in 1837, and Smith, founded in, 1871, became a common path for women, Mary, Bethia, Catherine, and Eliza, not only watched their brothers, sons, and nephews attend college, but also some of their daughters and nieces.

Mary, Bethia, Catherine, and Eliza, as they relate to each other

Mary D. & Bethia T. Huntington

Mary Dwight Huntington’s Sampler

Bethia Throop Huntington’s Sampler

Born in 1815 as the ninth of Dan and Elizabeth Whiting Phelps Huntington’s eleven children, Mary D. Huntington made this sampler at the age of 10, on February 14th, 1826. Mary’s older sister, Bethia T. Huntington, the fourth of the eleven, made her sampler at eight years old in 1814. Until her death in 1839 at the young age of 24, Mary wrote to and received many letters from her older brother, William Pitkin Huntington. In 1826, William writes to Mary admiring how fast she was able to make sheets and pillows. In addition to this, it seems that Mary’s, as well as Bethia’s, education went beyond these household skills. In 1831 and 1832, William wrote his sisters numerous letters in French. William writes, “mais ce que je regarde avec le plus l’intérêt c’est vos études francais,” which roughly translates to, ‘but what I find the most interesting is your French studies.’ He continues in his letter to explain various grammar rules of the French language to Mary. This raises the question of whether the sisters were formally studying French in any capacity, or whether it was just William who thought they should be proficient in a foreign language. In fact, Mary, Bethia, and their two sisters were students at the Troy Female Seminary, founded in 1814 by Emma Hart Willard. Subsequently called the Emma Willard School, the school provided young women with an education comparable to that of young men at a time when women were barred from colleges. Mary and Bethia’s education was reaching beyond the sewing, alphabet, and numbers they were taught through their samplers. With institutions like the Emma Willard School, the focus of women’s education was beginning to shift from household tasks to a curriculum which included mathematics, science, history, foreign language, and literature.

Catherine Whiting Fisher

Catherine Whiting Fisher’s Sampler

Catherine Whiting Fisher, Granddaughter of Elizabeth Whiting Phelps and Dan Huntington, and niece of Mary and Bethia, was eight years old when she made this sampler. Similar to Mary and Bethia, Catherine frequently corresponded with her brother, Edward Fisher, while he was away at college and she remained at home. Interestingly, on September 24, 1859, Catherine receives a letter from an S. Dilloway that reads, “I am glad you propose to be a teacher.” As women’s education was becoming more mainstream during Catherine’s childhood with institutions like the Emma Willard School, teaching was becoming an acceptable and achievable career path for women. Women’s education continued to grow during Catherine’s lifetime as women’s colleges were founded. One of Catherine’s nieces, Eleanor (Fisher) Grose, attended Smith College. So, through the three generations of Bethia and Mary, Catherine, and Eleanor, women’s education was transitioning from preparing women for motherhood, to opportunities in teaching, and eventually to higher education.

Eliza Fitch Lyon

Eliza Fitch Lyon’s Sampler

Eliza, aged eight when she made this sampler, was the daughter of Samuel Huntington and Mary Warner. Dan Huntington was Eliza’s great uncle, making Mary and Bethia her first-cousins-once-removed and Catherine her second cousin. Eliza married Theophilus Parsons Huntington, also her second cousin, making Eliza and Catherine sisters-in-law as well. Eliza and Theophilus had three children: Walter Elliot, who served in the civil war, Maria Whiting, and Edward Dwight. Unlike her relatives Mary, Bethia, and Catherine, it seems that Eliza’s formal education did not expand beyond this sampler. She married Theophilus in 1837 at the age of 19 and had her first child in 1842 at the age of 24. In contrast to this, Mary, Bethia, and Catherine, never married but each received a more formal education than Eliza.



Click here to read more about how marriage, or the choice to remain unmarried, affected the lives of women in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

 

SOURCES:

Finding Aid, Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers. 1987-88.

Peck, Amelia. “American Needlework in the Eighteenth Century.” Metmuseum.org.

Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers, on deposit at Amherst College Archives and Special Collections, Amherst College Library.

 

Ruth Huntington Sessions' Reflections on the Third Women's Congress

Ruth Gregson Huntington Sessions was born on November 3, 1859, the sixth birth, but fourth surviving child of Frederic Dan Huntington and Hannah Dane Sargent. Like her older brother and sister, James and Arria, Ruth was also drawn to social justice causes until her death in 1946. Ruth’s lifetime covered the end of the Civil War and emancipation, women’s suffrage, and other Progressive Era Reform movements. Her sister, Arria, was elected to the New York State Board of Education before women in the United States had the right to vote. Her brother James, founded the Monastic Order of the Holy Cross on the Lower East Side of Manhattan and was involved with the Knights of Labor and with other radicals. Ruth’s 1936 memoir which she wrote at 72 years old, Sixty Odd, reflects on her childhood summers at “Forty Acres,” family, coming of age, and her rising consciousness.

When Ruth was sixteen years old, the Third Congress of the Association for the Advancement of Women was held in Syracuse New York. The Association for the Advancement of Women was founded in 1873. Their mission according to their constitution was, "to receive and present practical methods for securing to Women higher intellectual, moral, and physical conditions."[1] Among guests that year was Louisa May Alcott, author of Little Women. Ruth reflects on Alcott’s presence in Syracuse for the conference when she stayed with the Mills family, who were friends of Ruth’s, “To see its [Little Women’s] author in person and hear her talk was a prospect which enlisted feminine interest, old and young, in the Congress itself.”[2] Ruth attended the Congress on its opening day. She notes seeing Mary A Livermore, Maria Mitchell, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton there. Maria Mitchell, one of the cofounders of the group, served as its president from 1875-1876, when the congress came to Syracuse. Mitchell was also the first woman to be a professional astronomer in the United States and taught at Vassar College.[3] Mary A Livermore, who Ruth notes as a friend of her mother’s, was an outspoken activist for the end of enslavement, women’s suffrage, and other Progressive-Era reform movements.[4] Livermore was a writer and involved with many groups, serving as the president of the Association for the Advancement of Women in 1873.[5] Despite Ruth’s awareness of these women and close proximity to the conference, she admits that at sixteen years old, she was ignorant of the growing women’s rights movement and as she puts it, “of the heroism which characterized those early days of woman's struggle for independence.”[6] Ruth remembers, as was typical for the time, believing “that the destiny of woman was to rule over a domestic kingdom as queen and mistress; man's guiding star, a beneficent influence, a wise mother, a gifted teacher or writer or musician if possible, but at least, failing more striking attainments, a contented housewife.”[7] Ruth does not credit her parents the beliefs she held surrounding women’s roles.[8]

The speeches delivered at the Third Women’s Congress turned Ruth “head over heels, for the Cause of Woman,” with big hopes and dreams for her future inspired by women like Mary A Livermore.[9] Ruth later became a writer, a founding member of the Consumer’s League, an outspoken proponent for women’s rights, and a house mother at Smith College, where today, Sessions House still stands in honor of her.

You can read more about Ruth Huntington Sessions on our website and on the finding aid for the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers at Amherst College. And as always, we recommend touring the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum to learn more about the six generations of the family.


Sources

[1] “Maria Mitchell and Women’s Rights,” Vassar Encyclopedia, accessed July 16, 2019, http://vcencyclopedia.vassar.edu/faculty/original-faculty/maria-mitchell/maria-mitchell-and-womens-rights.html.

[2] Ruth Huntington Sessions, Sixty Odd: A Personal History, (Brattleboro: Stephen Daye Press: 1936), 99.

[3]Britannica Academic, s.v. "Maria Mitchell," accessed July 16, 2019, https://academic-eb-com.libproxy.smith.edu/levels/collegiate/article/Maria-Mitchell/53020.

[4] Britannica Academic, s.v. “Mary Ashton Rive Livermore,” accessed July 16, 2019, https://academic-eb-com.libproxy.smith.edu/levels/collegiate/article/Mary-Ashton-Rice-Livermore/125840#.

[5]Britannica Academic, s.v. “Mary Ashton Rive Livermore,” accessed July 16, 2019, https://academic-eb-com.libproxy.smith.edu/levels/collegiate/article/Mary-Ashton-Rice-Livermore/125840#.

[6] Ruth Huntington Sessions, Sixty Odd: A Personal History, (Brattleboro: Stephen Daye Press: 1936), 99.

[7] Huntington Sessions, Sixty Odd, 99.

[8] Huntington Sessions, Sixty Odd, 99.

[9] Huntington Sessions, Sixty Odd, 104.

Association for the Advancement of Women. Souvenir Nineteenth Annual Congress of the Association for the Advancement of Women Invited & Entertained by the Ladies’ Literary Club. 1877. 128. https://books.google.com/books?id=Z-4EAAAAMAAJ&source=gbs_navlinks_s.

Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers, on deposit at Amherst College Archives and Special Collections, Amherst College Library.

Women’s Suffrage and How it Affected the Lives of Unmarried Women in the 18th and 19th Centuries

Born in 1848 to Hannah Dane Sargent and Bishop Frederic Dan Huntington, Arria Sargent Huntington was the eldest of her five siblings. As a member of the fifth generation of the Porter-Phelps-Huntington family, Arria would have spent her summers at “Forty Acres” when she was growing up in Syracuse. As an adult, Arria devoted much of her time to philanthropy, she founded The Shelter for Homeless Women and Girls, the Working Girls Club, and was involved in many other organizations. Arria was the first woman elected to public office in Syracuse where she would serve on the New York State Board of Education from 1897 to 1903 (two decades before women even had the vote). Despite having numerous suitors, Arria would never marry. While uncommon at the time for a woman to choose to remain unmarried, Marla R. Miller writes about a woman from the late eighteenth-century, Rebecca Dickinson, who also chose to remain unmarried despite being proposed to. In her book, Rebecca Dickinson: Independence for a New England Woman, Miller writes,

“In late eighteenth-century New England being unmarried did not necessarily mean having liberty or feeling free. On the contrary, women without husbands were dependent on others—usually fathers, brother, or nephews—who would decide their fate.”

In addition to the lack of independence Dickinson would have experienced, she also writes in her journal about feeling lonely: “…this lonely habitation where there is no voice nor nothing but one old odd being.” (August 20, 1787) She later writes about “those lonesome death-like thoughts” and describes her house as “a tomb.” Although Dickinson had a successful career as a skilled craftswoman and at times writes about the joys of remaining unmarried, these quotes from her journal paint her as the stereotypical lonely ‘old maid’ that Miller discusses in her work. However, when we look at Arria’s life, the image we see is one of success and independence.

While Dickinson lived during the late eighteenth-century, Arria wasn’t born until the mid-nineteenth-century, so what was happening at this time to enable an unmarried woman like Arria to be so successful and independent while just half a century earlier, women like Dickinson didn’t have control over their own lives? The answer lies in the 1840s when women’s suffrage began to gather support. While Dickinson died in 1815 and would not have been around to experience the growth of women’s suffrage, Arria was born in 1848 and would have grown up in the middle of this blossoming social movement. 54 years after Dickinson’s death, and just 21 years after Arria’s birth, the first national suffrage organization was established in 1869; the National American Woman Suffrage Association (NAWSA). Arria died in 1921 and just barely saw the 19th Amendment ratified, but she lived at a time when women’s independence and equality was the focus of the American public. Therefore, while remaining unmarried for Dickinson meant she didn’t have control over her own fate, as Miller argues, Arria was able to succeed in a society where women were able to make such choices and still maintain their independence. 

           


SOURCES:

Baratta, R Catherine. Arria Sargent Huntington's curriculum vitae (created by Dr. Baratta as a class handout). 1999 

Miller, Marla R. Rebecca Dickinson: Independence for a New England Woman (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 2014).

Huntington, Arria S. Under a Colonial Roof-Tree: Fireside Chronicles of Early New England. Syracuse: Woolcott’s Bookshop, 1905.

“Obituary of Arria S. Huntington” from the Provincetown Journal. Sunday, June 9th, 1996.