Charting Map Making at the Emma Willard School

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.

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.

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.

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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.

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Hadley's Revolution

In celebration of Independence Day, a cursory glance at the Porter Phelps’s (and Hadley’s) involvement in the Revolutionary War certainly seems worthwhile. The family’s participation – and lack thereof – provides valuable insight into the social/political landscape of the Revolution in a small, rural setting in the 18th century. 

Perhaps most illuminating is the story of Caesar Phelps, an enslaved person at the House, and his service at Fort Ticonderoga. Despite being a prominent member of the community and nominated to various Hadley Committees pertaining to the war, Charles Phelps, husband of Elizabeth porter Phelps, never faced any fighting because Caesar served in his place. Caesar is documented as writing to Charles from Fort Ticonderoga in September 1776, a now-celebrated site. Though it is theorized that Caesar might have enlisted so as to earn his freedom through service in the war effort, he signed off his letter from Ticonderoga with, “I remain your ever faithful Slave, Cesar Phelps,” suggesting that he did not consider himself free at the time and did not expect that to change. What happened to Caesar after the war is largely unknown due to a dearth of historical records, underlining further the disparity in opportunity between Caesar and Charles.

The story of Caesar illustrates the power and privilege afforded to the Phelps’s of the time: rather than fight and possibly die in a cause that he was said to support, Charles had the ability to leverage his wealth and status and escape real danger. Serving instead on the Committees of Safety and Communication, Charles could more indirectly support the war effort while retaining his health and position of prominence in Hadley society. His absence is especially noted when the involvement of some of his family members is taken into account: on the 29th of November, 1773, Elizabeth’s diary referred to a ‘General Training’ led by her cousin Elisha Porter, who was a Captain in the Massachusetts Militia. 

Elizabeth’s diary, though it bears no mention of the Fourth of July even after it became a recognized holiday after the War of 1812, still illuminates the early Revolutionary landscape through its inclusions and exclusions, providing insight into the sentiments that spurred rebellion and the significance of now-idolized events to a rural farming community in Western Massachusetts. She does not remark upon the Stamp or Townshend Acts, nor of the Boston Tea Party. She does, however, make note of the Coercive Acts, passed by Parliament in response to the dumping of the tea, that closed Boston's port and outlawed town meetings. On the 19th of June, 1774 Elizabeth wrote “The People of the Land are greatly threatened with Cruelty and oppression from the Parliament of Great Britain – the port of Boston is now and has been ever since the first day of this month shut up and greater calamities are daily expected.” Soon afterwards, Elizabeth would make note of a particularly harrowing evening that would have certainly been considered among the greater calamities of which she was speaking. 

Just two months later, Elizabeth reports a harrowing evening. On the 3rd of September, 1774, Elizabeth writes: 

“Saturday just at night my Husband came home from town with terrible news that the army o forces which are stationed n Boston had begun to fight and were coming out into the country spreading desolation wherever they came. The men rallied from all parts, vast numbers ,then for the first time did I in a good measure realize parting with my dear Husband...Distressing night but the Lord is our trust.” 

Her entry reveals a number of things, perhaps most importantly the looming fear of retribution and palpable tension between the British and Americans. It also marks Elizabeth’s reckoning with the possibility that she might lose her husband in the war – never a small matter, but especially powerful for someone whose father, Moses Phelps, had died fighting at the Battle of Lake George in the Seven Years’ War. As it turns out, there was no fighting between the British and the Americans that night in Boston or elsewhere, which goes to show the atmosphere of heightened tension and rumormongering that was present in the leadup to the Revolution. 

Elizabeth’s diary also reveals her participation in the war effort. She records in her diary a visit to the local tailoress on August 13th, 1775 from whom she learned to make breeches for the military. Equipped with her needle, Elizabeth sewed incessantly to help meet Hadley equipment quotas that clothed the soldiers.

On the 17th of October, 1777, General John Burgoyne of Britain surrendered at Saratoga after having captured Fort Ticonderoga, a major setback for British hopes in the area. Elizabeth writes ecstatically in her diary two days later that “wonderful, wonderful words can’t express our adoration and praise! I desire to fall down in astonishment!” It seems that after this inflection point in the conflict, the war diminishes in Elizabeth’s eyes and does not merit much mention afterwards. 

In sum, the papers at the Porter Phelps Huntington Museum paint a picture of Revolutionary America that is insightful and relevant in a multitude of ways. We can see how the family contributed in their various ways – be it sewing or deliberating on town committees.  We are offered, too, a glimpse of the electrifying buildup to the Revolution that often created an atmosphere of impending doom. Elizabeth’s worries over her husband’s safety after being roused in the night with rumors of violence in the air exemplify such a feeling. Despite the validity of Elizabeth’s worries, the fact that Charles never saw combat must be noted. Not only did they enslave several people, Charles parlayed his ownership of another human being into an abdication of his duty to serve in the fight for Independence. The service of Caesar Phelps in Charles’s place testifies to the position of power and privilege that the Porter Phelps family had in Hadley, and to their full use of it. 

Works Cited:

“Letter from Caesar Phelps to Charles Phelps, Jr,” Revolution Happened Here, accessed July 1, 2021, https://www.revolutionhappenedhere.org/items/show/31. 

Phelps, Elizabeth Porter. The Diary of Elizabeth (Porter) Phelps, edited by Thomas Eliot Andrews with an introduction by James Lincoln Huntington in the New England Historical Genealogical Register. Boston: New England Historic Genealogical Society in Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers. 

Pongratz, Simon. “Hadley’s Struggle for Independence: The Small Farming Town and Its People in the Revolutionary War.”

“In this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” - Benjamin Franklin

A folder entitled, “Financials, Estate of Gladys Huntington,” was recently opened within the collection of papers of Constant and Gladys Huntington, donated to the museum in 2020. The folder is full of correspondence regarding tax bills and other mundane aspects of life, but often these informational documents provide fascinating insight into the personal lives of people no longer with us.

For two and a half years following the suicide of his wife Gladys on May 31, 1959, Constant Huntington corresponded with his legal representation, Dickerman Hollister of the firm Choate, Reynolds, Huntington & Hollister in New York from the Huntington’s residence in London. The purpose of this repetitive correspondence was to settle the Internal Revenue Service tax bills accruing on Constant’s personal income and Gladys’ estate from the previous three years. The continued revenue from Gladys’ book Madame Solario resulted in an increasingly expensive and time-consuming feat for the eighty-four year old widower who had successfully minimized his annual tax bills up until the time of her passing.

Gladys’ book Madame Solario made $3,361.66 in 1957, the year after its initial publication in August of 1956. Adjusted for inflation, that amounts to $32,204.34 - an impressive income for just a year of sales of an anonymously-written novel. While the revenue streamed in, Gladys’ name wasn’t attributed to the authorship of the book until 1986, thirty years after the book’s publication.

Madame Solario, First Edition. 1956.

Seven months prior to Gladys’ death, a sizable amount of money, $53,422.12, was withdrawn when Gladys’ trust at Girard Trust Corn Exchange Bank in Philadelphia was closed. This concerned Constant’s lawyer Mr. Hollister, for fear that taxes plus interest would be accruing on that amount if it had been spent. “This money was paid out in October and November 1958 and it is imperative that we have a fairly detailed accounting of what happened to that money between those dates and Mrs. Huntington’s death. The Girard Trust seems to think it was all given to you. You tell me that that was not so; that some of it was spent, some given to other people and some invested. Please give me the particulars.” Adjusted for inflation, the amount today would be $511,778.21… a sizable amount to be missing.

Constant’s reply to Mr. Hollister’s concern regarding the missing sum was sent on March 14, 1960, in which he details their financial holdings and habits. After explaining that Gladys’ wealth originated from her trust at Girard and the sales / royalties of her book, Constant says that he oversaw her accounts personally. Constant closes his reply by stating that after he has enjoyed such financial comforts because of Gladys’ trust, he “should like to do the same for my grandchildren, and perhaps you can tell me how.” 

Throughout the correspondence between the two men, direct answers are rarely given to Mr. Hollister’s questions asked of transactions, account closings, and previous tax bills. Constant’s advanced age, multinational financial entanglements and declining mental faculties are made evident throughout the correspondence between he and Mr. Dickerman Hollister: the check which Constant forgot to attach to his letter, or the incorrect amount listed once the check was sent. (Instead of $309.09, Constant accidentally sent one for $309.90, which further delayed the settlement of his expanding tax bill.)

Constant’s letter apologizing to Mr. Hollister for his “further manifestation of old age… the worst of it is that this sort of thing happens all the time!” April 26, 1961.

The last correspondence between the two men is dated June 12, 1961 - a year and a half before Constant’s death at his home in London on December 4, 1962, at the age of eighty-six. In his last letter to Constant, Mr. Hollister thanks him for his most recent payment of $121.95 to the IRS, and tells him, “I am glad to note that for 1961 and the future your American tax problems will be taken care of by your English accountants.”

Constant and Gladys’ headstone, St. Michael’s Churchyard, Amberley, Sussex, United Kingdom.

References:

“Gladys Huntington, Madame Solario.” https://persephonebooks.co.uk/products/madame-solario

Constant Huntington papers referenced:

June 11, 1959; December 4, 1959; February 24, 1960; March 14, 1960; April 17, 1961; April 26, 1961; June 12, 1961.

Update From the Archives: Constant Huntington

Constant and his wife, Gladys

For nearly two months, I have been nose-deep in the correspondence of Constant Huntington, the middle son of George Putnam Huntington and Lily St. Agnam Barrett Huntington, graciously donated by Katherine Urquhart Ohno. There is something extraordinarily intimate about reading someone’s letters with their family, friends, and business colleagues. Although I will never meet Constant, I feel that I know him at least a little from reading his letters to his siblings, business requests between his colleagues, travel stories to his friends, and much much more. 

When you spend so much time with a person’s words you are bound to find hidden treasures. One was this photo of Constant and his wife, Gladys, labelled “Tamia’s Wedding”. Constant and Gladys had many friends in many places, they were quite the esteemed pair. I love the sophistication in their clothing and the way that they interact with the camera as if this photograph was taken on their way to somewhere much more important. 

I found a fascinating letter from Hans Fallada to Putnam + Sons written in 1946. Fallada was an author from Germany who in his letter opens up about his isolation in the years after WWII and the aftermath the war had on his family and his career. Hans Fallada was a controversial author in Berlin during WWII due to the Nazi’s politicizing his work, and the allegations against him that he was homosexual. His work was very popular in the mid-1930’s, and one of his novels, Little Man, What Now?, was even filmed by Universal pictures (Wilkes). It was fascinating to find this tidbit of history amongst Constant’s letters especially when this letter was written in the year before Hans Fallada’s death. 

After a fruitful six weeks of reading and studying Constant’s letters, I ended up with six full boxes of archived and organized materials. Countless histories, secrets, and family dramas can be revealed in these pages, and it is exciting to have begun the process of uncovering them!

Sources:

Wilkes, Geoff. Afterword of Every Man Dies Alone (10th Anniversary Edition). Melville House. 2019

A Piece of PPH History

While working through the papers of Constant Huntington this week, the intern team found a fascinating piece of PPH institutional history! Among the assorted documents was found a copy of a quitclaim deed in which Constant granted his portion of the Forty Acres estate to his brother and PPH Museum founder, Dr. James Lincoln Huntington. After the tragic passing of their father and grandfather on the same day in 1904, the grounds around the house were split between James, Constant, and the other Huntington children. When Dr. Huntington set out to turn his beloved family home into a museum, one of the first things he had to do was acquire his siblings’ shares of the property. Though PPH was first and foremost Dr. Huntington’s project, and would not have happened without his intense dedication, it is documents like this that remind us the museum’s founding was made possible by not just one man, but the collective efforts of an entire family.

The Triumph and Tragedy of Frederic Dane Huntington

For much of his life Frederic Huntington seemed to be the model all-American citizen. He was a football player, successful lawyer, and served his country in WWI. The end of his life, however, is marred by mysterious events and tragedy.

Frederic (Freddy) Dane Huntington was born on December 5, 1889 in Ashfield, MA. He was the youngest of six children to George Putnam Huntington and Lilly St. Agnam Barret Huntington. Freddie’s father, George, died in 1904, after which Freddy was supported through school by his mother and four older brothers. From 1904-1906 Freddy attended St. Paul’s School, an elite boarding school in Concord, N.H. He went on to Harvard from 1908-1912 where he was a prominent athlete, playing football, hockey, and other sports. In 1909, his sophomore year, Freddy was 20 years old, 5’8, weighed 166 lbs., and played center position on the football team-- the same position he had played his freshman year. In 1911 newspapers across the U.S. printed articles on Frederic’s incredible strength and athleticism. Articles with titles “New Strong Man at Harvard” and “Harvard Boy Excels Champion Pugilist” had nothing but rave reviews for Freddy, saying he was “nothing but muscle.” That year, Freddy was “first string center” for the varsity football team and was the strongest man in that year’s registration and the lightest man to try out for his position. His astonishing strength was determined by a series of tests under a system devised by Dr. Dudley A Sargent. This method included points for strength of arms, legs, and chest and lungs: weight is also figured into the calculations. With his legs Freddy was reportedly able to lift 1,263 lbs. and with his back 594 lbs.! In 1912, his senior year at Harvard, he was the chosen captain of the All-America Hockey team. Freddy graduated that year with a Bachelor of Arts degree and remained at Harvard to study law. He obtained a Bachelor of Law degree in 1915 and was admitted to the Bar.

Freddy’s gas mask

For a year Frederic practiced law in Boston for Choate, Hall, and Stewart. His time there was cut short by his joining the Massachusetts National Guard in 1916 when he was the Sargent of Artillery in Mexico. From 1917-1919 Freddy was overseas in France as Captain of Battery A 101st Field Artillery, 26th division. Freddy served at Chemin des Dames and Meuse-Argonne, two battles that were crucial in the Allies’ offensive effort during the war. In April 1919 he was detained as Judge Advocate, a lawyer who advises a court-martial on points of law and sums up the case, after the Armistice. Freddy returned to the U.S. August 11 and was discharged August 25, 1919. The war was “a shattering experience for him.” There is no record of Freddy being wounded, but a 1920 diary entry by his older brother Michael Paul St. Agnam Huntington (known as Paul), recorded that Freddy still coughed a lot, saying “the gassing two years ago had left its toll.” His mother said that he was never the same again. Like many other soldiers, Freddy may have suffered from PTSD as result from his service during WWI.

Dress sword presented to Freddy by Members of Battery A 1st F.A., M.N.G. inscribed with his name

In 1923 Freddy became the Assistant Treasurer for Real Silk Hoisery Company in New York City and was living in Bedford Hills, NY. A year later he married Elsie Entress (b. 1899, d. 1948) on February 9th, bringing her down to Norton, Virginia so that his brother Paul, an Episcopal minister, could marry them. Freddy and Elsie had no children.

Elsie Entress Huntington

            Things become alarming for the Huntingtons in 1938. By this time Freddy was the Treasurer for Real Silk Hoisery Company and the Huntingtons were known New York socialites. On December 9th, an anonymous telephone caller demanded $50,000 from Mrs. Huntington. A man with a gruff voice reportedly said:

“Tell your husband to provide $50,000 within the next 48 hours. Otherwise something will happen to you. I will send you further instructions.”

That night police guarded their Katonah home and the 48-hour deadline expired without another word from the would-be extortioner. The Huntingtons were unable to discover an explanation for this threat.

            Tragically, Freddy died just two years later at the age of 50. On January 7, 1940, Frederic drove to Hadley with his German-Shepherd dog, presumably to visit his brother James Lincoln Huntington, who was working on researching and preserving “Forty Acres.” After a prolonged absence, James went looking for him and found Frederic and his dog’s bodies frozen to death in the Old Hadley Cemetery. Frederic had shot his dog with a pistol before turning it upon himself; the death was ruled a suicide. Conflicting news articles stated that the bodies were either found at the cemetery entrance or over the Huntington family plot.

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For more on Frederic’s family click here.

A large thank you to Sheilagh Smigen-Rothkopf who became interested in Freddy Huntington when taking a tour of PPH last summer and delved into many resources including ancestry.com and newspaper archives describing events in Freddy's life and sending the information onto the Museum.

Works Cited:

Caroline Smith, Museum Assistant. “Huntington Family Cross-Stitch.” Sept 1, 2019. Accessed August 2020. Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum. https://www.pphmuseum.org/blogging-through-the-museum/2019/9/1/huntington-family-cross-stitch

D.M.G Hunting. “War Stories.” June 2007. Accessed August 2020.

“Elise Huntington Entress.” Elise Huntington Entress - Ancestry.com, www.ancestry.com/search/?name=Elise+Huntington_%28Entress%29.

Amherst College. “Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers, 1698-1968 (Bulk 1800-1950) Finding Aid.” Five College Archives & Manuscript Collections, http://asteria.fivecolleges.edu/findaids/amherst/ma30_odd.html#odd-gh

The Nebraska State Journal. “New Strong Man at Harvard.” Lincoln, Nebraska. October 22, 1911.

News-Journal. “Harvard Boy Excels Champion Pugilist.” Mansfield, Ohio. October 27, 1911.

The Boston Globe. Boston, Massachusetts. November 20, 1909.

Mildred Hunting Wheeler: A Woman of Will

Mildred and Her Siblings

Mildred Alice Hunting was born in Watertown, NY on January 25th, 1894 to Stanley Hunting and Grace Devendorf. She was the oldest of four children, Frederick (b.1899), Maro (b. 1895), and Dorothy (b. 1904). Mildred attended public school in Watertown and later Maryland College for Women. She graduated on June 7, 1915, having completed her studies in the College in Domestic Science and Arts, where she achieved a Teacher’s Certificate. After graduation, during World War I, she worked with the Red Cross gathering medical supplies, serving as a hospital aide, making home relief calls to the poor, and attending rallies and military drills.

In 1922 Mildred met Edwin (Teddy) Sessions Wheeler, the man who would become her husband, for lunch at a midtown New York tearoom. After their meal, Teddy waved her away as she boarded the Manchurian for a three-month tour of Europe. This European grand tour was an alternative form of education to a degree from a prestigious women’s college. Mildred sailed with a group of friends to explore France, the Swiss Alps, and Italy, taking photos and sending postcards along the way. [1] She spent her time on the ship playing piano and singing hit ragtime music with her friends. 

Mildred’s Diploma

Returning to Rochester, NY after her trip to Europe in 1922, Mildred paid afternoon tea visits to friends and neighbors, and traveled often to see college friends. But she was restless at home and unfulfilled, her solution was to travel. Mildred’s work with the Red Cross during World War I led her to become interested in the Near East Relief, a committee founded in 1915 in response to the massive humanitarian crisis triggered by the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire which displaced millions of Armenians, Assyrians, and Greeks. Mildred worked for Near East Relief [2] in Persia from 1926 to 1928 with friend Marjorie Wilson, spending time in Tabriz, Iran. In Tabriz, she managed the household while Marjorie Wilson managed the process of closing the orphanage for the last group of Armenian children whose parents had been killed by the Turks during WWI. These remaining children were placed into foster care. 

Upon her return home in 1928, Mildred had no thoughts of marriage. In her diary she rarely mentioned men and only once hinted at desire. She comes across as a strong-willed, no-nonsense woman who thought the socially acceptable men around her to be immature. Mildred called receptions “stupid” and rejected the affectations of men who wanted to show off their “manliness.” She wanted a man who was as competent and well-mannered as she was, and she found him in Teddy Wheeler.

Mildred with her two children Richard and Elizabeth.

On December 3, 1929 Mildred married Edwin (Teddy) Sessions Wheeler [3] (1891-1967) at a small ceremony in All Souls Universalist Church in Rochester NY. Teddy was a man of traditional values and had a good job working for the International Nickel Company. For him, Mildred was the ideal woman. Teddy complained about having lived too much and too long among strong women but then he married one. Mildred was as accomplished and independent as Teddy’s sister and mother. Mildred described him to her sister, Dorothy, as “a sympathetic and kindly soul,” “such a quiet soul and conservative.” She wrote, “…he is sweet to me and insists I am quite perfect. When Teddy is about my hair gets in a very untidy state. I have never been so rumpled. But it’s such fun.” They had two children together, Richard, born 1931, and Elizabeth, born 1932. After the birth of their two children, Mildred and Teddy moved out of Brooklyn, NY to Westfield, NJ. Tragically, in December of 1933 Mildred became ill with diaphragmatic pleurisy, and died a week later in her home in Westfield, New Jersey.

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 [1] To learn more about Mildred’s travels click here: https://pphtravelogue.weebly.com/mildred.html

[2]  The Near East Foundation is still in existence, learn more about them here: https://www.neareast.org/who-we-are/

[3]  Edwin Sessions Wheeler is a descendent of Elizabeth Porter Huntington (1803-1864).

Sources: 

Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum. https://pphtravelogue.weebly.com/mildreds-biography.html 

Elizabeth Wheeler. “A HUNTING–McCOY--WHEELER STORY: Circa 1920 to 1950”

Near East Foundation. “History,” https://www.neareast.org/who-we-are/. 

A Huntington Across the Pond

Last Fall, PPH received a substantial collection of artifacts from the collection of Constant Huntington (1876-1962). Through a generous donation by Katharine Ohno, nine boxes were shipped all the way from London! It was only this Summer that the intern team was able to finally investigate the contents. The most immediately striking object among the countless letters and photographs was, of course, this larger than life size bust of Constant himself. The bust, cast in bronze and mounted on a simple wooden pedestal was sculpted by a well known German-Jewish artist named Kurt Harald Isentein. In addition to Constant, Isenstein sculpted many prominent figures of his time, including Albert Einstein and Niels Bohr. 

Though most of the Porter-Phelps-Huntington story takes place in New England, many family members have moved to other parts of the country (and even the world) at some point during their lives. Constant Huntington, older brother of PPH Museum founder James Lincoln Huntington, was one such family member. Though Constant grew up spending his summers at Forty Acres with his family, his adult life would take him far from Hadley.  After graduating Harvard, he moved to London in 1905 to head the British branch of G.P. Putnam’s Sons Publishing. In 1916, he married popular writer and fellow American expat, Gladys Parrish. In 1922, they would have their first and only child, Alfreda Huntington. 

Constant and Gladys

Items in the collection show that Constant and his family lived a life of travel and leisure; photo albums are filled with vacation photos throughout Europe and Gladys’ diaries detail relaxing lunches and teas with her friends several times a week. Also included in the collection are a number of novel and play manuscripts penned by Gladys, testifying to her robust career as a published author. 

Despite living in London, Constant remained involved in the Hadley family home as his brother James worked towards opening the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum in the late 1940s. The family papers held at Amherst College include extensive correspondence between the two brothers regarding the museum. Both Constant and Gladys would remain in London until their deaths in 1959 and 1962, respectively. The Constant Huntington collection is quite large, and our inventory of it has only just started, keep an eye out for more exciting finds in the coming weeks!

Bishop Huntington's Communion Flagon

Resting on a shelf in the Bishop’s study is a small, unassuming silver flagon. It’s baluster form is simple and unadorned; the maker's mark (“Lincoln and Reed”) reveals it was made in Boston. An inscription on its belly simply reads “Frederic Dan Huntington, Jan 1st, 1845”. Flagons like this one were used and continue to be used in Christian churches around the world to distribute the wine consumed during Communion. However, it is difficult to say whether or not this particular flagon was ever actually used for such a purpose.

Shortly after graduating from Amherst College, Frederic Dan Huntington assumed the position of minister at the Unitarian South Congregational Church of Boston in 1842. He served in this role until he left to teach at Harvard as Plummer Professor of Christian Morals in 1855. At some point during his time there, he received this silver flagon. The exact details are unknown, but it is quite likely the flagon was given to Frederic Dan as a gift from the congregation. It was not uncommon for wealthy members of a church to sponsor such a gift, or even for the congregation to purchase one collectively. Huntington was quite well liked by his congregation in Boston, and he seems to have returned the sentiment. He wrote this of them upon his departure from the church in 1855:

“It is not exceeded, I believe, by any in the land… for number, for harmony, for mutual kindness and consideration… and indeed for every attribute and quality which make up good parochial character in the eyes of the minister.”[1]

Bishop Huntington in his later years, 1871

Frederic Dan would teach at Harvard for only five years before his resignation and subsequent conversion to Episcopalianism. Even so, he continued to look back on his time as a Unitarian minister with great fondness. He writes of the “Dear old South Congregational” in this 1878 letter:

“How many honored and dear names I could mention of those who were with me from the beginning! And how much could be said of them! Give my love to all the children and kindred of those who have fallen asleep.”[2]

    Though the Flagon’s origins might not be clear, it is obvious that it represented a very important and memorable time in his life. It eventually came into the hands of his grandson, noted composer Roger Sessions, who in turn passed it onto his grandson, Roger Pease. It was Roger Pease who generously donated the Flagon to the museum in 2019, where it now has a home among countless other objects that serve as a testament to Bishop Huntington’s long and storied life.

Sources:

[1] and [2] Arria Sargent Huntington, Memoir and Letters of Frederic Dan Huntington: First Bishop of Central New York (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and company, 1906), 107, 108.

Epes Sargent V: Sea Captain

Capt. Epes Sargent, Cephas G. Thompson. c 1820, located PPH Front Hall, oil on canvas.

Mary Otis Lincoln, Cephas G Thompson, c 1820, located PPH Front Hall, oil on canvas.

A collection of letters from the Sea Captain Epes Sargent V (1784-1853), were donated to the museum by Elizabeth Dyer Merrill. The majority of them are addressed to Sargent’s third wife, Mary Otis Lincoln Sargent (1795-1870). But there are a couple addressed to some of his children as well as a return letter from Mary to him. 

Most of our knowledge about Epes Sargent V comes from another set of letters already in the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers, that give a first hand account of his life at sea. These new letters give some further insight into his family life. Epes Sargent was the fifth Epes born to the Sargent family originally from Gloucester Mass. He was orphaned at the age of five with his two sisters, Amelia Bernard and Frances, and from there they were raised in their grandfather Foster’s home. Sargent then took after his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather in becoming a ship owner. After suffering some losses in a business venture with his brother in law John Barker in the late 1810’s, Epes took to the sea in his brig ‘Romulus’ and later the ship ‘Volga’.  In the 1820’s he made four trips to St. Petersburg, Russia, most of his letters to Mary were addressed from there or Copenhagen. Mary and Epes married in 1821, having met through his children, as they went to Derby Academy in Hingham where she taught. Her father Abner Lincoln was the first Preceptor of the academy.

(Portrait of Hannah Dane Sargent Huntington, located in Bishop’s Study)

Together Epes and Mary had five more children to add to the first five from Epes’s second marriage. Their daughter Hannah Dane Sargent, named after his second wife, married Frederic Dan Huntington, tying together the Sargent and Huntington families. 

In his letters Sargent comes across as having been a very loving and devoted husband and father. 

“I feel an assurance My Love that you will never have cause to regret your having bestowed your affections on me, mine believe me is not a light and momentary passion but a pure and solid affection- Love founded on the firm basis of regard for your inestimable goodness, in you my Dear Mary I am fully confident I have indeed a bosom friend, and my children the best of mothers- I shall feel anxious for the happy day to arrive when I shall be permitted in deed and in health to call you mine-...”

Epes Sargent V to Mary Otis Lincoln, May 26th 1821

Epes was constantly asking after everyone’s health and remarking how he wished to be home with his family. Considering that both of his previous wives died, it seems he was anxious to spend time with his family just as they wished to have him home. Between his and Mary’s letters it also becomes clear that even though he was at sea on his ship, Mary and the children were able to watch for him with a spyglass, and discern his figure onboard the ship when he was in or close to port. This spyglass was given to the museum by David M.G. Huntington and is still on display as part of the collection today! 

“Will it afford my dear Husband any pleasure to know how narrowly he has been watched this day? Believe me when I say it has to me been a day of trial that I hope not soon to be made sensible of again- the spy-glass has not been taken from my eye but for a short time, and then only that I might see our little ones made comfortable, or to give others an opportunity to catch a glimpse of their Fathers form. Which we could plainly distinguish from all others;...”

Mary O.L. Sargent to Epes Sargent, June 12th 1823

While the family was living in Boston in the early 1820’s, these letters also include the Sargent’s search for a house elsewhere. Before leaving for St. Petersburg aboard his ship the “Romulus”, Epes spent time engaging with Mr. Hatersons about taking over his home. While in St. Petersburg, he remarked that Mary would have to handle the move by herself as he wouldn’t be home in time to help. Over the years the family moved four more times, they tried living on a farm in Milton Mass. but moved back to Boston after a short time and then to Western Avenue and Roxbury. 

As Epes spent more time abroad he was enjoying it less and less. A common theme in his letters is that the markets often are not good for him, causing a loss of profit, and that he is tired of being away from home for such a large part of the year. He doesn’t go into huge detail about his trips themselves, but rather focuses on sharing his love for his wife, and addressing each of his children with interest in how they are growing and learning. 

Epes Sargent VI, attributed to C. Harding, Date Unknown, located PPH Dining Hall, oil on canvas.

In the summer of 1828, Sargent took his third son, Epes Sargent VI along with him to Russia. In his letter to Mary, he remarks that he wished he had more free time to go about the city with his son, but that his friends there were entertaining the fifteen year old, and would even have Epes leave him there, something he didn’t seem inclined to consider!

The younger Epes did not take to the sea like his father, and instead pursued a career in writing, becoming an Editor of the Boston Evening Transcript and writing plays and poems as well. See this post for more information on Epes VI!

After his fourth trip to St. Petersburg, it seems that Epes finally got to spend more time with his family as he wished. Epes died at his Roxbury home on April 19th 1853. 

Tiny Treasures

Recently, a surprise item was found among donations from Wheeler descendants. Nestled in between various framed photographs and books was a small fabric drawstring bag. It has a quilted appearance, with a pink floral design, and a pale pink interior. Normally, these bags were used as a travelling jewelry box. The bag’s contents were carefully wrapped, concealing a special collection of objects. Loosening the drawstring and unfolding the paper revealed the priceless contents: a black clay dog, a small doll made out of embroidery thread with a tissue veil, two small walnut shells decorated with googly eyes and red felt, and a felt mouse wearing a white and red robe holding a book with a gold cross on the cover. These adorable objects appear handmade and sentimental. Oddities like these are common in most households, especially those with children. These objects were carefully preserved for a lifetime of childhood memories!

Fabric bag

Small black clay dog

Doll made of embroidery thread with a tissue veil

Walnut shells with googly eyes and felt mouths

Small felt mouse holding a red book with a gold cross

Celebrating Independance Day!

 Before Congress passed a law claiming the fourth of July as a national holiday on June 28, 1870, it was a day of spontaneous celebration. It was customary for towns and cities to have bonfires, processions, military displays, and fireworks, much like today! However, fourth of July celebrations did not become such a popular event until after the war of 1812. In a diary entry from Elizabeth Porter Phelps on July 4, 1802, we see that her focus was on family and friends coming and going through the week, with no mention of any festivities! Normally, the museum would offer tours and tea to commemorate, but this year, we hope you enjoy a safe holiday at home with family and friends, just like Elizabeth!
 

“Sun: Mr. Hop 1st Tim. 6&5 — afternoon I stayed with the babe — Mr. Hop: 2nd Chronicles 15&4. Tuesday Mitty & I at Concert of prayer — Mr. John Smith from Matt. 6&6. Wednesday Mrs. Hop & Mrs. Austin of Worcester here. Mr. Huntington & wife & son arrived in safety by the kindness of heaven. Thursday all at brother Warners. Jest at night my son from Boston & his father came and drank tea with us — my son is come to carry home his wife & son — he got here after we went to brothers — came by Brimfield & brought Mrs. Hitchcock thus we are favoured with all our children & grand children meeting here except Mr. Hitchcock & his son Charles. Lord bless us in the redeemer. Fryday Mr. Partons & wife visit here. Satt: Sister Dickinson & Polly visit here, Susan Cutler, Lucy Barron, Sister Warner & her daughter Dickinson. The two sons at Northampton by Hatfield forenoon.” – Elizabeth Porter Phelps, Diary Entry, July 4 1802

Paul Shipman Andrews: A Champion for Peace

On December 15, 1917, Hannah Sargent Sessions (daughter of Ruth Huntington Sessions and favorite granddaughter of Bishop Frederic Dan Huntington) married Syracuse lawyer Paul Shipman Andrews (1887-1967).  In her memoir “Sixty Odd”, Ruth describes her daughter’s marriage in vivid detail:

“The engagement was already a year old, and Paul was expecting to be sent to France in the spring. Roger[1] played the march, and I an accompaniment to a violin obbligato, by a student in the music department, while an old English wedding-hymn was sung and the married pair knelt after the benediction; it was very reverent and lovely. Then, as they rose from their knees came the dramatic feature of the occasion. Roger sounded the strains of The Star- Spangled Banner from the large trumpet, the tones of which filled the hall. The guests were already standing and smiling—bringing the affair to a triumphant climax…” [2]

Paul (third from the right) during his service in France, WW1

With that, Paul became a member of the Huntington family. Paul’s family, the Andrews, had quite a reputation of their own. His mother, Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews, was a popular writer best known for her 1906 short story “The Perfect Tribute”, and both Paul’s father and grandfather were well known lawyers in Syracuse. It was no surprise that he followed in their footsteps. He completed his undergraduate studies at Yale in 1909, and earned his law degree from Columbia University in 1912. After his service as a Captain in France during World War One, he would go on to become dean of the Syracuse University College of Law. His tenure as dean was interrupted by the outbreak of the Second World War; he once again served (this time as a Lieutenant Colonel) in North Africa and Italy from 1943 to 1946. During the war, he was heavily involved in humanitarian efforts to aid people displaced by the fighting in Italy. He received an award from the Italian Red Cross for his efforts. 

Cover page of Paul’s 1953 treatise “Cost of War or Price of Peace” Now a part of the PPH collection

Notes

[1]  Hannah’s brother, American composer Roger Sessions (1896-1985)

[2]  Sessions, Ruth Huntington. Sixty Odd: A Personal History. Brattleboro: Stephen Daye Press, 1936, 393.

[3] Both groups were part of the greater “World Federalist Movement” a popular 20th century political movement bent on creating a new international system that could prevent another global war

After the war, Paul became quite concerned with the growing threat of conflict between the United States and the Soviet Union. In 1952, he retired from his position at Syracuse, and devoted the rest of his life to advocating for global peace. To this end, he spent a year working for the pentagon during which he produced a paper titled “The Cost of War and the Price of Peace”. This extensively researched paper details what steps Paul believed were necessary to achieve peace in an increasingly turbulent world. After his time at the Pentagon, he spent the remainder of his life working in a similar capacity for two organizations dedicated to peace through global disarmament: the United World Federalists (UWF) and the World Association of World Federalists (WAWF) [3]. He spent much of the 1950s and 60s traveling throughout Europe and Africa, sharing his proposals with kings, statesmen, and several popes.

Peace remained Paul’s project right up to his death in 1967, at the age of 79. Obituaries were published as far away as Switzerland, and the UWF posthumously declared him their “Man of the Year”; both acts stand as testament to Paul’s reputation among the international community as one of peace’s greatest advocates.

A Swiss obituary for Paul, published 1967. The headline reads “A Champion of Peace”

A Slice of Cottage Life

A recent donation to the museum included a collection of small, wooden-handled knives of varying shapes and styles. These knives came from the Thompson family summer cottage known as the Neudick House in Georgetown, ME. The property was bought by Elizabeth (Bessie) Wheeler Thompson (b.1884)[1] and John (Jack) Fairfield Thompson (b. 1883) in the 1930s. The summer house was complete with a farmer and chauffeur to drive them between their many properties.[2] The couple was known to be a dazzling pair, “eclipsing all others.” On February 14, 1911, Jack proposed to Bessie on the Brooklyn Bridge. Afterwards, their letters to each other are full of love and longing. In a section from Jack’s letter, he wrote:

In my heart, I have been your man for a long time…I will come for you tomorrow and we will walk that blessed Bridge again… I am so happy. I only feel, I cannot think. But last night I left you more truly your husband and you more truly my wife than any human ceremony can make us.

Goodnight from your husband,

Jack

Looking closely at the knives reveals history a bit closer to home. Two of the knives’ handles are marked with a label from their manufacturer, the inscriptions reading “Russell” and “Russell Green River Works.” This company was started in 1834 by John Russell in a water-powered factory on the banks of the Green River in Greenfield, MA making butcher and kitchen knives. Large quantities of their hunting knives were shipped out West to the American frontier. Reproductions of their fur trade era knives are still being sold.

The Russell knife in the top image is a common paring knife, while the Russell knife in the bottom image is a chicken “sticking” knife. Aptly named, this knife would have been used to kill chickens by sticking the blade into their brain and giving a small twist. Both knives are circa 1910.

One of the other knives has also been inscribed with a company name. This watermark is on the blade, rather than on the handle like the Russell knives. The blade of the smooth round handled knife reads “DEXTER PAT 3-7-16.” This cutlery line is linked to the Harrington Cutlery Company, founded in 1818 in Southbridge, MA. In 1884, the Dexter line of kitchen and table cutlery, which this knife is from, was introduced.

It is an oyster knife, designed for strength and durability. The sharp, flat blade with a stop at the end is ideal for splitting the oyster shells and the round grip gives comfortable handling. It likely dates to before 1933.

These two local cutlery manufacturers, The Harrington Cutlery Company and Russell Green River Works, merged in 1933 to become the Russell Harrington Cutlery Company. The company still thrives today in Southbridge, MA.

The Neudick House contained a variety of old utensils, including these knives. While material possessions abounded for Bessie and Jack Thompson, their value paled in comparison to their devotion to each other. In a letter to Bessie, Jack wrote, “All eternal things seem part of me now. There are only two primary facts: you and me.”

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[1] Elizabeth Wheeler Thompson is descended from Elizabeth Huntington Fisher (1803-1864). Our 2016 exhibit on Elizabeth Porter Huntington Fisher imparts details from her life as described in her letters. To explore this exhibit, click here: https://www.pphmuseum.org/news/2016/8/8/the-porter-phelps-huntington-museum-presents-a-life-in-letters-elizabeth-porter-huntington-sessions-by-kristin-malin-a-mixed-media-visual-art-installation

[2] In the 1930s, John (Jack) Fairfield Thompson was the executive vice president of International Nickel Co, eventually becoming President and Chairman of the Board. He was very successful, which allowed for the couple to travel often and purchase many properties.

Sources:

Albert Shane, Museum of Our Industrial Heritage, http://industrialhistory.org/contact-us/.

“About Dexter.” English, www.dexter1818.com/about-dexter.

McCabe, John. Oyster Knives, oysters.us/oyster-knives.html.

Elizabeth Wheeler, “Fisher-Wheeler-Thompson Story”, “A HUNTINGTON-FISHER-SESSIONS STORY “

Charles "Chippy" Phelps Huntington

“Chippy”

The death of a child is a story that loses none of its bite over time. It is hardly an unusual occurrence, but the blow never softens, each consecutive tale of child mortality just as tragic as the first. Nowadays, generally speaking, most healthy children are able to reach adulthood. However, this wasn’t always the case in the past. In the first half of the 20th century, there were innumerable threats looming over children. Between 1900 and 1950, scarlet fever, measles, polio, the Spanish flu epidemic, and the sudden availability of automobiles were all great concerns—and that’s on top of two world wars. The world was, and is, a dangerous place for children, and the particular brand of tragedy that is child death did not pass over the Huntingtons. 

A membership card for the ‘Vacation Reading Club’

Charles Phelps Huntington, nicknamed “Chippy,” was the youngest son of Lona Marie Goode and Michael Paul Huntington. He was born on May 13, 1928, in Delaware. This photograph, along with the treasure trove of Chippy’s childhood scrapbook, is a recent acquisition of the museum. The scrapbook is full of wobbly letters and the sorts of odds and ends that children find important taped into the pages—a ball from a BB gun, a movie theater ticket, a Macy’s advertisement, a valentine. It paints a vivid picture of a sweet and cheerful boy; his scrapbook holds a membership for the ‘Vacation Reading Club’ showing how many books he’d read, perfect attendance certificates, report cards (he had very good grades), a little homemade bicycle license, and all kinds of notes and letters. He exchanged several Valentine’s Day cards with a girl called Georgia Shelley, who wrote him a thank-you note that he taped into his scrapbook. There’s a thank-you card from an aunt to whom he wrote a get-well card while she was hospitalized. His eldest brother also wrote family letters that addressed him directly, and the little personal details are quite charming (‘Chippy, how are the doggies?’). 

Chippy’s homemade bicycle license, signed by his father

About a third of the way into the scrapbook, though, the haphazard, cheerfully misaligned scraps of paper stop very abruptly. There is a report card, with columns for the teacher to fill out every five weeks; it is completed up through week 15, where Chippy’s school absences (the first of his life, if the perfect attendance certificates stuck into earlier pages are to be believed) are marked in the ‘½ days absent’ section. Then, the scrapbook picks up again with pages and pages of lovingly arranged baby photographs, pictures of Chippy as an infant, a toddler, a child. Chippy’s faltering cursive does not reappear. Tragedy had struck: one day in 1937, as Chippy was walking to school, he was hit by an automobile and died. He was nine years old.

A Mother’s Day card

After her son’s death, Chippy’s mother, Marie, took over the scrapbook to memorialize his life. She seems to have kept absolutely everything: old telegrams and greeting cards congratulating Marie on his birth; baby shower notes; cheery birthday cards from Chippy to each of his parents. A personal favorite—a Mother’s Day card on which Chippy wrote a poem: ‘To my mother,’ it says, ‘When you smile, then life is sunny. / When you speak I know good cheer / When you love it is forever / You are treasured Mother dear. From Charles P.H.’ The big green scrapbook is simultaneously the record of a young child’s life as he documented it and the grief of a mother at her young son’s death; both an archive and a memorial. 

There is a poem, printed on a piece of stiff paper, at the end of the scrapbook; Springtide, by Phila Butler Bowman. It is unmarked but for the name of the poet in Marie’s handwriting at the bottom, and one highly significant alteration: in the second to last line, ‘Someday, we shall see her face again,’ Marie has crossed out ‘her’ and written ‘his.’ With this change, the poem reads:

Springtide

I know I shall find my violets

Each year in the same old place,

So I grieve not that snow or a silence fall,

Knowing the hidden grace.

For love strikes down with a deeper root

Than any woodland thing.

Someday we shall see his face again,

And our hearts will say,

                                    “It is Spring!”

Epes Sargent (1690-1762)

Portrait of Epes Sargent (1690-1762) overall: 126.6 x 101.7 cm (49 13/16 x 40 1/16 in.) framed: 144.8 x 118.1 cm (57 x 46 1/2 in.) by John Singleton Copley dated to 1760 (original portrait currently on display at the National Gallery of Art)

Among recent acquisitions to the Foundation from David M. G. Huntington was a ~10x12 inch print of this portrait by John Singleton Copley. Epes Sargent is the Great-Great-Grandfather of Hannah Dane Sargent who married Frederic Dan Huntington in 1843. The Sargent family in this moment ties together two amazing artists in connection with the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family.

Copley was an American artist located in Boston, and well known for his attention to detail, especially in portraits. In looking at Epes’ portrait, one can see powder from his wig settled on his shoulder, the intricate lines on his hand and face, as well as the smooth detailing in the fabric of his clothing. The addition of the marble pedestal Sargent leans on is also an indication of his well-to-do status. Copley eventually moved to England during the Revolutionary War to further pursue his career in the London Academy. 

Epes Sargent was born in Gloucester Mass in 1690- the seventh child to Mary Duncan and William Sargent. A prominent figure in his time, Epes had a wealth of property and a merchant business. He was the principal magistrate for several years, and also acted as representative in Massachusetts’ general court in 1744. During this time he was married to his first wife Esther McCarty. Among their ten children was Epes Sargent II and Winthrop Sargent. 

Capt. Epes Sargent, Cephas G. Thompson. c 1820, located PPH Front Hall, oil on canvas.

Following Epes Sargent II line of descendents leads to Hannah Dane Sargent Huntington (1823-1910). Her husband Frederic Dan Huntington, son of Elizabeth Whiting Phelps and Dan Huntington, was a bishop in Syracuse, New York. After his mother passed in 1855, the family mostly used the Porter-Phelps-Huntington House as a summer vacation home. Not only did Hannah’s lineage track back to Epes Sargent, but her father Capt. Epes Sargent’s wife Mary Otis Lincoln, was a descendent of Major General Benjamin Lincoln. Lincoln worked with George Washington during the Revolutionary War and then rooted out Shay’s Rebellion in 1786 as he remained a prominent figure in Massachusetts. 

Winthrop Sargent on the other hand is the Great-Great-Grandfather of John Singer Sargent (1856-1925), who is known as one of the most successful portrait painters of his era. Famous for showcasing the personality of his sitters, one of his most well-known works is titled Madame X, painted in 1884. 

Frederic Dan Huntington and Hannah Dane Sargent’s marriage brought together this lineage of families, and adds further personal connection and history to the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum today!

Mary Otis Lincoln, Cephas G Thompson, c 1820, located PPH Front Hall, oil on canvas.

Preservation Month this May

Preservation month is something to celebrate across the nation and in our local communities! It is a time to engage in shared histories, promote the benefits of preservation, and take pride in community. Established in 1973, preservation month continues today, and we are thrilled to participate and share our efforts!

Built in 1752 by Moses Porter, the rooms and architecture of the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum remain as they were arranged by members of the family to accommodate the procession of relatives, neighbors, community leaders and workers who crossed the house’s threshold. From farmers and businessmen, to religious leaders and social workers, to servants and enslaved people, the stories of many men, women, and children spanning 250 years of American History are told within the house. The Porter-Phelps-Huntington House is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

After almost three centuries, the house remains in excellent condition due to preservation efforts made by The Porter-Phelps-Huntington Foundation Inc. In order to preserve the integrity of its history, the house regularly requires routine maintenance and repairs, including painting, roofing, and carpentry. This work is made possible through generous grants and donations from members of the public. Over the past forty years, the museum has received grants from the Massachusetts Historical Commission, and the Mass Cultural Facilities Fund, which we are also honored to be a grant recipient from this year.

Your generous donations and interaction with the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum allow for projects that preserve this historic house for community events and engaged learning. Under normal circumstances, we would invite you to take a tour, explore the grounds, and join us for “A Perfect Spot of Tea” or our Wednesday Folk Traditions. This year we encourage you to visit our online resources, check out the musicians that would have been performing this summer, and share a cup of tea from home! 

The Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum is located at 130 River Drive, Hadley MA on Route 47 just two miles north of the junction of Routes 9 and 47 North in Hadley.  For information concerning tours or special events, phone (413) 584-4699 or check the museum website: www.pphmuseum.org .

‘Lord Clermont’s horse, Johnny’

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This lithograph, hung on the north wall of the upstairs guest bedroom, depicts ‘Lord Clermont’s horse, Johnny.’  The Lordship of Clermont was a title created in 1770 in the Peerage of Ireland and bestowed upon William Fortescue, an Irish politician and horseracing enthusiast. This lithograph, gifted to Dr. James Lincoln Huntington by a patient, was etched by Thomas Buford based off of the original 1776 painting by English artist Francis Sartorius. Sartorius, active from the 1750s through his death in 1804, belonged to a family of artists specializing in equestrian scenes including his father, John Sartorius, and son John Nott Sartorius. Francis is best known for his extensive collection of paintings of Eclipse, an 18th-century English racehorse famous for providing the foundation for the modern Thoroughbred horse breed. Although the Lord Clermont William Fortescue’s Johnny never achieved such fame, Sartorius’ original painting and a colored lithograph of the image currently reside in the British Museum archives.

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Huntington Family Cross-Stitch

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Dr. James Lincoln Huntington founded the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum in 1948. This Cross-stitch shows Dr. Huntington as a young boy with his family. Stitched in 1900, the image depicts his family members in age order. Underneath the family reads "E M P to L St A H", meaning the cross-stitch was given to “L St A H”- Lily St. Agnam Huntington, Dr. Huntington’s mother- from someone with the initials ‘E.M.P’. The cross-stitch currently hangs in the second floor South East Bedchamber of the museum where Lily summered after her husband’s death. Following are short bios of this Huntington family who assisted Dr. Huntington in founding the PPH museum.

Click here to view the online finding aid for the PPH collection at the Amherst College Archives.

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George Putnam Huntington

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George Putnam Huntington, born in 1844, was the first of Frederic Dan and Hannah Dane Sargent Huntington’s seven children. George, like his father, became an Episcopal minister and was ordained Deacon in 1868. In 1869, George became the first rector of St. Paul’s Church in Malden, Massachusetts, where he met his wife, Lily St. Agnam Barrett. Upon his retirement from St. Paul’s, the women of the parish made him a quilt which is now on display at the PPH museum. Lily and George married in 1874 and had six children: Henry “Barrett”, Constant, James, Michael “Paul”, Catharine, and Frederic (Freddie); each depicted in the cross-stitch. In 1904, just 15 years after Freddie was born, George died, possibly from typhoid fever. And just four hours prior to George’s death, his father Frederic Dan passed away. On July 11th, 1904, Barrett, Constant, James, Paul, Catharine, and Freddie, lost both their grandfather and father in a matter of hours.

Lily St. Agnam Barrett Huntington

Born in 1848 in Malden, Massachusetts, to Henry and Lucy Theodora Gellineau Steams Barrett, Lily St. Agnam was raised Unitarian but baptized and confirmed in the Episcopal faith in 1874 and married the rector of her parish, George Putnam Huntington. The couple lived and raised their first four children in Malden until 1884 when, due to George’s failing health, they moved to Ashfield, Massachusetts, where they had two more children. Now closer to the family home in Hadley, “Forty Acres”,Lily, George, and their six children often summered there. At 56 years old, Lily became a widow while still taking care of her youngest three children. In the fall of 1904, a few months after her husband’s death, Lily bought a house in Leicester, Massachusetts, where she lived with Paul, Catharine, and Freddie, until each went off to college. A few years later, in 1908 or 1909, Lily moved to Lexington, Massachusetts where she lived until 1920. By this point, her children had modernized the family home at “Forty Acres,” where Lily summered until her death in 1926.

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Lily with Barrett, James, and Constant

Henry Barrett Huntington

Henry Barrett Huntington, known as Barrett, was the first child of George and Lily. Barrett was born in 1875 in Malden, Massachusetts. In 1893, he attended Harvard and later taught English Composition and Literature at Harvard, Dartmouth, and Brown University. After the death of Hannah Dane Sargent, his grandmother, in 1910, Barrett tried to run “Forty Acres” as a dairy. However, as Barrett lived in Providence, Rhode Island, and didn’t commute to Hadley often, his dairy was not successful. In 1905, Barrett married Alice Howland Mason. Alice and Barrett had four children: Elizabeth, born in 1906, twins Arria Sargent and George Putnam, born in 1909, and Mary Hopkins, born in 1915. Alice died in 1946 at the age of 65, Barrett died 19 years later in 1965.

Constant Davis Huntington

In 1876, George and Lily’s second son, Constant Davis Huntington, was born. Following in his brother’s footsteps, Constant attended Harvard in 1895. In 1902, Constant became the head of G.P. Putnam’s Sons Publishers, first in New York and then in 1905, in London. Constant and his wife Gladys Theodora Parrish had one daughter: Georgiana Mary Alfreda, born in 1922. Until his death in 1962, despite living far away in London, Constant remained involved in the Hadley family home as his brother James worked towards opening the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum in the late 1940s.

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James Lincoln Huntington

The third son of George and Lily, James Lincoln Huntington was born in 1880. Although James was born in Malden, his family moved to Ashfield in 1884, when James was four. In 1902, James graduated from Dartmouth College and attended Harvard Medical School five years later. As an obstetrician and gynecologist, James studied in Germany and later practiced in Boston. In 1911, James married Sarah Higginson Pierce and together they had two sons: Benjamin Lincoln, born in 1912, and John Higginson, born in 1916. James and Sarah divorced in June of 1944 and in December of the same year, James married his second wife: Agnes Genevieve Keefe. In 1948, James founded the Porter-Phelps-Huntington Museum where he gave tours until his death in 1968.

Michael Paul St. Agnam Huntington

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Known as Paul, Michael Paul St. Agnam Huntington was born in 1882 in Malden as the fourth son of George and Lily. While his brothers all went away to boarding school, Paul was chronically ill as a child and remained home. In 1902 Paul attended Harvard University, then Worcester Polytechnic Institute in 1906, and Cambridge Theological Seminary in 1914. Three years later, in 1917, Paul was ordained Deacon and served as Priest at Emmanuel Church in Boston. In 1922, Paul married Lona Marie Goode. Lona died in 1956, at just 59 years old after they had been married for 34 years. During those years, Paul and Lona had three children: William Paul, born in 1923, David Mack Goode, born in 1926, and Charles Phelps, born in 1928. In 1937, at 9 years old, Charles was killed in an automobile accident. Paul not only outlived his wife by 11 years, but also his youngest son by 30. Paul died in 1967.

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Catharine Sargent Huntington

The only daughter of George and Lily, Catharine Sargent Huntington was born in 1887 and was the fifth of six children. In 1911, Catharine graduated from Radcliffe College which had been founded just 32 years prior. When it was founded, Radcliffe was nicknamed the “Harvard Annex” as it provided women education and instruction from Harvard faculty. After she graduated, Catharine taught English at a boarding school in Connecticut and later worked with the YMCA in France. In 1927, Catharine was arrested at a demonstration against Sacco and Vanzetti’s execution. Along with her activism, Catharine was largely involved in American theatre. In 1940 she founded the Provincetown Playhouse, in 1938 founded the New England Repertory Theatre in Boston, and in 1965 Catharine won the Rodgers and Hammerstein award for “having done the most in the Boston area for the American theatre.” Further, on her 97th birthday, Catharine was recognized by Governor Michael Dukakis and the Massachusetts Legislature for her contributions to American theater. Catharine died in 1987 at the age of 99. Click HERE to learn more about Catharine Sargent Huntington.

Frederic Dane Huntington

Freddie Huntington, the sixth and youngest child of George and Lily, was born in 1889. When Freddie was just 14 years old, his father and grandfather died on the same day. Freddie was therefore supported through school by his mother and five older siblings. In 1912, Freddie attended Harvard and was admitted to the Bar in 1915. However, Freddie wasn’t able to practice law for very long before he became Sargent of Artillery of the Massachusetts National Guard in Mexico in 1916 and was sent overseas the next year as a captain in World War I. Before returning to the United States in 1919 after the war had ended, Freddie served at Chemin des Dames and Meuse-Argonne, two battles that were crucial in the Allies’ offensive effort during the war. After the armistice of November 11th, 1918, which ended the fighting of World War I, Freddie was detailed as Judge Advocate. In 1924, Freddie married Elsie Entress. There is evidence that Freddie may have suffered from PTSD after his return from World War I. Soon after his 49th birthday in 1940, Freddie committed suicide after killing his dog in the Old Hadley Cemetery. His wife, Elsie, died eight years later.

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SOURCES:

Family, Porter-Phelps-Huntington. “Porter-Phelps-Huntington Family Papers, 1698-1968 (Bulk 1800-1950) Finding Aid.” Text. Accessed August 21, 2019. http://asteria.fivecolleges.edu/findaids/amherst/ma30_main.html.

Huntington Family Genealogical Memoir — Supplement 1915 to 1962. Norwich, CT: The Huntington Family Association, 1962.

Huntington Genealogical Memoir — 1633 to 1916. Hartford, CT: Huntington Family Association, 1915.

 
“Our History.” Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study at Harvard University. Accessed August 21, 2019. https://www.radcliffe.harvard.edu/about-us/our-history.

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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.