Alcott's Brief, but Impressionistic Stay in Georgetown

"Beds to the front of them,

Beds to the right of them,
Beds to the left of them,

Nobody blundered.

Beamed at by hungry souls,

Screamed at with brimming bowls,

Steamed at by army rolls,

Buttered and sundered.

With coffee not cannon plied,

Each must be satisfied,

Whether they lived or died;

All the men wondered."

It was to this song that matrons and nurses at the Union Hospital in Georgetown (at right) marched to. Among them was Louisa May Alcott, authoress of Little Women. When the hackney coach carrying Alcott to the northeast corner of M and 30th, NW arrived, the driver announced it as the “Hurley-Burley House.” The Union Hospital was a converted hotel, built originally in 1796. A three story building, with two parallel wings running in to the block, with a slave quarter and stable in the rear, the Hotel was one of the larger establishments in Georgetown. The building functioned as a hotel briefly in the Civil War, when nearby battles in Virginia created an influx of wounded soldiers in to Washington.

Arriving December 12, 1863 Louisa saw action a just three days later, when the first casualties from the Battle of Fredericksburg, Virginia arrived by ambulance. Over 40 ambulances arrived and, the Union Hotel had 80 beds made up for the wounded. The worst cases were treated in the hotel ballroom. By Christmas there were over 1,000 wounded Union troops convalescing in Georgetown. Alcott noted that it was not uncommon to see them hobbling on the muddy streets on crutches and peg-legs. At the makeshift hospital Alcott worked as a night nurse, where she cleaned wounds, administered medicine, changed beds, and fed soldiers. The saddest sight she saw “was the spectacle of a grey-haired father, sitting hour after hour by his son, dying from the poison of his wound. The old father, hale and hearty; the young son, past all help…I saw the son's eyes fix upon his face, with a look of mingled resignation and regret, as if endeavoring to teach himself to say cheerfully the long good bye.”

Working as a nurse in the Civil War was arduous work. Apart from long hours, in poorly ventilated conditions, nurses ate the same rations as the soldiers. Alcott dryly noted that the beef at dinner was, “evidently put down for the men of ’76.” When food was scarce, nurses at the Union Hospital often passed their rations on to the wounded men. Louisa May Alcott lasted just six weeks that winter before succumbing to typhoid fever. When she was well enough, he father collected her and brought her back to Massachusetts, her nursing days at an end.

For more on Louisa May Alcott: http://civilwarwomen.blogspot.com/2008/01/louisa-may-alcott.html.

Sources: Louisa May Alcott, Hospital Sketches (1869).

Mary Mitchell, Divided Town: A Study of Georgetown, DC During the Civil War, Massachusetts: Barre Publishers, 1968.

Picture Source: The Whitman Archive.

Jailed for Freedom: Silent Sentinels

Alice Paul grew up in a Quaker and was likely influenced by the early Quaker suffragists including Susan B. Anthony and Lucretia Mott. But it was during her years in England that she learned tactics to draw attention to the Votes for Women cause. At the time, British suffragists had become a militant movement. They organized mass demonstrations, threw rocks at windows, and participated in hunger strikes. Paul took all of this in and took part in these events. In 1912 Paul moved back to the United States, where she was appointed to the position of Chairmen of the Congressional Committee of the National American Woman Suffrage Association (NAWSA). Prior to this time the suffrage movement had been largely based in New York meeting halls, but Paul was a supporter of “Deeds not Words.” The time had come to get Women’s Rights back on the national agenda. To accomplish that she needed to move to Washington.

In 1913, the women of NAWSA organized a mass parade down Pennsylvania Avenue which coincided with Woodrow Wilson’s inauguration. The parade was led by Inez Milholland, a suffragist and labor attorney, dressed a Grecian goddess astride a white horse. It was a grand scene that stole the show from Wilson. Though the parade garnered front page media attention put the movement on the national scene, Paul left the organization to form the National Women’s Party(NWP). While NAWSA was focused on achieving suffrage on a state level, NWP believe change could only come with a constitutional amendment. Paul and her supporters engaged in a series of pickets at the White House, with signs (like the one above, left) calling the president “Kaiser Wilson” among other things. The picketers known as “Silent Sentinels” were frequently arrested and charged with “obstructing traffic.” Sentences varied from 60 days, with Paul herself receiving 7 months in the Occoquan Workhouse.

At the Occoquan Workhouse in Fairfax County, Virginia the detained women engaged in hunger strikes. The strikes led to their mistreatment and in to being force fed three times a day for three weeks. Insubordinate women were beaten by the guards; Lucy Burns, a fellow suffragist and friend of Alice Paul’s, was handcuffed to her bed with her arms above her head for a whole night. Public outrage at the prison conditions and at the treatment of the women grew. It is one thing if poor and impoverished women are imprisoned, but many of the suffragists were educated upper middle-class ladies, who (in some opinions) may have been out of their senses, did not deserve harsh treatment. Across the country women took part in the strike as a show of solidarity. In January 1918, President Wilson finally declared his support for the Right to Vote Amendment. With public support growing, the NWP (with new headquarters at 14 Jackson Place) continued its parades, pickets, and took to starting fires around Washington, DC. Frequently, the women were attacked by suffrage opponents, as well as the police. However, the tide was turning. In August 1920, Tennessee became the 36th and final state needed to ratify the 19th Amendment.

Things quieted after that. The NWP took up residency at the “Old Brick Capitol.” From their they drafted the “Equal Rights Amendment Bill,” which to this day has yet to be ratified. Known as the Sewall-Belmont house (front door at seen right), Alice Paul contintued to live and work there. The house became famous for its tea parties. The house now serves as a museum dedicated to the suffrage movement, and features artifacts from NWP’s campaign for the passage of the 19th Amendment and NWP’s feminist founder Alice Paul.

Sources: Library of Congress, American Memory: Photographs from the Records of the National Women's Party.

Tour of the Sewall-Belmont House on July 2009, http://www.sewallbelmont.org/

Through the years: The Sewall-Belmont House

Tucked away near the Hart Senate Office Building lies a DC gem with significance to both the 19th and 20th centuries. Built by the Sewalls, a prominent Maryland family, in 1799 the Sewall-Belmont house is one of the earliest buildings in the capital. The home’s first resident was Secretary of the Treasury, Albert Gallatin. Secretary Gallatin was the chief negotiator for the Louisiana Purchase as well as the Treaty of Ghent ending the War of 1812. In fact, it was during the War of 1812 that the house was set afire by British troops as they invaded the Capital City in 1814. Story has it that Americans from inside the house shot British General Ross’s horse out from under him as he passed by. The British set fire to the house in retaliation; it was the only private residence burnt in Washington during the invasion. While the Sewall family sought reimbursement from Congress for damages during the battle, no payment was ever granted.

The house, eventually repaired, passed through the rest of the 19th century as a popular residence for Congressman and cabinet members. In 1929 the house came under the ownership of the National Women’s Party, the militant suffragist group. The house now serves as a museum dedicated to the suffrage movement, and features artifacts from NWP’s campaign for the passage of the 19th Amendment and NWP’s feminist founder Alice Paul. More on the suffragists later...

Frank Like Alice

“If you can’t say something good about someone, sit right here by me.” –Alice Roosevelt Longworth, from the sitting room of her Dupont Circle home

In a time when women were just finding their voices, Alice Roosevelt proved to be one outspoken, dashing, limelight-seeking, stubborn woman. (Alice at left in 1902, in one of her signature hats)

Learning of President McKinley’s assassination, Alice and the other Roosevelt children danced a wild jig. The White House was theirs! Alice was at home in Washington right away, taking up a bedroom in the Northwest corner of the White House looking out at the affluent Lafayette Square. She had moved in just as she was about to cast childhood aside and take on her role as a woman in late Victorian society. One of the first big events at for the Roosevelt family was her debutante ball in 1901. Alice was ready for a party, yet was crushed when she realized that being the First Daughter was not all fun and games. Perhaps to assuage a growing temperance movement, Alice’s stepmother Edith chose to serve punch instead champagne at the ball, much to Alice’s mortification. But despite this hurdle for poor Alice, there was plenty of other fun to be had around town.

I confess that when I started reading about Alice, I was hoping to learn about a strong woman ahead of her time, who broke through gender barriers at every turn. In some ways she was just that. She drove around town in a $2500 “red devil” sports car in an age where women were not to be driving. She bet money on horses and played poker, when most women played bridge.

I had hoped that Alice would be a diplomat, working behind the scenes, like her cousin Eleanor Roosevelt. But in fact, she was more concerned about the publicity. When Kaiser Wilhelm II visited DC, she practiced smashing champagne bottles in the backyard of the White House, for she had been invited to christen the Kaiser’s new ship.

Frankly, I find her shallow. She fretted terribly over the parties she would attend and resented the White House secretary for handling her correspondence, a major hindrance to her youthful flirtations. She often stared at herself in the mirror, comparing herself to the Gibson Girl pictures of her in the press. She married Congressman Nick Longworth (for which Longworth HOB is named), publicly criticized him when he supported the Taft presidency, and cheated on him with Senator William Borah’s son (with whom she had a child, Paulina).

In her defense, when Senator Joseph McCarthy greeted her in the 1950s with, “How are you, Alice?” she famously looked him dead in the eye and replied, “No, Senator McCarthy, you are not going to call me Alice. The truckman, the trashman, and the policeman on the block may call me Alice but you may not.” Okay, so maybe I admire her a little…

Sources: Stacy A. Cordery, Alice.

Carol Felsenthal, Alice Roosevelt Longworth.

Sisters, Sisters

Though the Pearl Incident is not widely remembered in US History, it had profound consequences for both the slaves involved and for the abolitionist movement. In particular, it influenced the lives of two slaves, a preacher, and one feisty authoress: Mary Edmonson, Emily Edmonson, Henry Ward Beecher, and Harriet Beecher Stowe.

The Edmonson sisters (At Left: Mary and Emily), Mary (1832-1853) and Emily (1835-1895), were 15 and 13 years old when they attempted escape aboard the Pearl with four of their brothers. Born in Maryland, Mary and Emily were both of fair complexion (a very desirable quality for female slaves), and as a consequence they had been hired out as house servants in Washington. Learning of the planned escape on the Pearl by other slaves, the Edmonson siblings decided the time was right to make their escape. As we know (see previous post), the slaves aboard the Pearl were captured and returned to the District. Their fate was to be sold, and live out a grueling life in the disease ridden swamps of the Deep South.

In Alexandria, the Bruin & Hill Company located on 1707 Duke Street, purchased the two sisters and their four brothers for $4500. Paul Edmonson, a freeman and father of the six Edmonsons aboard the Pearl, scrambled to find the money to purchase his children before they left for New Orleans. Joseph Bruin went around town boasting that he would make $1800 a piece for Mary and Emily. It became apparent that Bruin intended to sell the beautiful fair skinned sisters as mistresses or sex slaves in the popular New Orleans “fancy trade.” After all, the value of a young female slave at the time was closer to $600-800, only those in the “fancy trade” would sell for higher. Local abolitionists were appalled; they and along with Paul Edmondson worked to raise $1000 per sister. But Bruin wouldn’t sell; why accept $1000 when you could get $1800?

The money wasn’t raised in time. The brig carrying the Edmonsons arrived in New Orleans on June 14, 1848. They were held at a slave pen, and forced as fancy women to stand in the front windows to attract potential buyers. The sisters were poked and prodded and subjected to lewd comments from buyers. Fortunately, their luck changed as a yellow fever epidemic broke out in New Orleans. Fearing a loss in profit from the wrath of the disease, Bruin & Hill had the sisters shipped back to Baltimore. With assurance from Bruin that he would reduce the price of Mary and Emily’s freedom to $2500, Paul Edmonson went about raising money for their release. Hearing of their plight in Brooklyn, Henry Ward Beecher and his congregation took action to raise funds as well. Beecher spoke out on the horrors of slaves sold into prostitution by “human flesh-dealers of Christian girls.” His blistering sermons had women donating jewelry and men outbidding each other to donate to the increasingly popular abolitionist cause. By November the money had been raised, and the sisters were freed.

Rejoicing in their freedom, Mary and Emily travelled to New York to join a circuit of abolitionist speakers as celebrity guests. At rallies, Beecher spoke on the need for education for African-American and appealed to the audience to donate money to educate the girls. Mary and Emily told their story to large audiences and participated in mock slave auctions in attempt to further stir sympathy from Northerners.

Where is the feisty authoress in all of this? Ms. Stowe was Henry Ward’s sister, and in being so, she was well aware of the plight of the Edmonsons. In her book, Key to Uncle Tom’s Cabin, she cited the Edmonsons and their escape on the Pearl as inspiration for Uncle Tom’s Cabin--a book some credit with sparking the Civil War. Stowe intervened in the lives of the Edmonsons and had the sisters sent to Oberlin College, the first college to accept African-Americans. Sadly, Mary died of tuberculosis not long after her arrival at Oberlin. Distraught, Emily returned to Washington to be closer to her family and continued her studies at the Normal School for Colored Girls near Dupont Circle. She remained active in the abolitionist cause.

Sources: Josephine F. Pacheco, The Pearl: A Failed Escape on the Potomac.

Mary Kay Ricks, Escape on the "Pearl".

Treasury Courtesans and Postmistresses

Above: A Womens lunchroom at the Bureau of Printing and Engraving, 1913.

We might be in an “Information Revolution” today, but let’s not forget that the latter half of the 19th century saw a boom in information technology as well. The development of telegraphs, typewriters, and improved mail service (by use of rail) all contributed to stacks upon stacks of paper piling up in the government agencies across Washington. An efficient and cheap source of labor was sorely needed to keep up with demand. The government needed women!

Finding himself with a shortage of men due to the Civil War, US Postmaster Montgomery Blair was the first to hire women in traditionally white collar jobs by placing them as clerks in the Dead Letter Office at the Postal headquarters. By 1865, women outnumbered men in that office 38 to 7.

Soon women were filling clerical positions across departments—handling mail, keeping financial records, and typing correspondence. In 1870 the number of women employed as clerks was in the low hundreds, but within twenty years their numbers surpassed 4,000. By 1910 women filled 8,443 clerical positions in the federal government. When we look at the statistics nationally, 16% of women in DC were employed in white collar jobs, compared with 7% across the country.

While the Federal City led the country in employing women, we should note that these white collar jobs were for white women only. Most African-American women living in DC continued to be employed in domestic service positions, with many DC-born blacks working in the housekeeping departments of the governmental agencies.

White women employed by the government found themselves not without a glass ceiling. Employed as clerks, women rarely if ever rose in the ranks of management. In fact, the US Postal Laws and Regulations of 1866 forbade women from holding the position of postmaster (this was amended 7 years later so that married women could become postmasters). Women received 35% less pay than their male peers. Further, by breaking traditional roles women had to endure the whispers and criticisms of others. Those in the treasury department were referred to as “Treasury Courtesans,” sent there to seduce their male counterparts!

Despite the hardships of the working world, women remained in government offices and proved to be an efficient and educated source of labor. Postmaster Blair later admitted that women handled the mail with “fidelity and care” and with faithfulness greater than the men.

Sources: Carl Abbott, Political Terrain.

Smithsonian U.S. Postal Museum, Women in the U.S. Postal System.

Picture Source: Shorpy, http://www.shorpy.com/node/5724.

Every Rose has its Thorn

At Right: Rose Greenhow and her daughter "Little Rose" at the Old Capitol Prison.

From her home on 16th Street near St. John’s Episcopal Church, Rose O’Neale Greenhow was perfectly situated as a spy for the Confederacy. Known as the Wild Rose, the widow was both socialite and seductress, playing host to a variety of politicians including President James Buchanan and William Seward.

After South Carolina’s succession in 1861 Greenhow was contacted by a U.S. Army captain who intended to switch sides and fight for his native Virginia. Realizing what great influence Rose Greenhow held in Washington society, the captain taught her simple code and established a means of communicating with her through a network of Southern sympathizers.

The Wild Rose found an informative paramour in abolitionist Henry D. Wilson*, a Senator from Massachusetts and Chairman of the Military Affairs Committee. A married man, Senator Wilson would sign his love letters to Greenhow as “H” (the letters would say such scandalous things as, “If fate is not against you, I will be with you this night…My love is all”). Through “H” Greenhow gleaned intelligence on Union troop movements.

As Union and Confederate troops prepared for war, Greenhow sent a message to Confederate General P.G.T. Beauregard, in which she passed along Union battle plans for the First Battle of Bull Run on July 21, 1861. The message was delivered just days before the battle on July 9th, via another female spy who tucked the message into the bun of her hair and warned Beauregard that “McDowell has certainly been ordered to advance on the sixteenth. ROG.” For her service, Confederate President Jefferson Davis credited Greenhow with the victory at Bull Run.

Greenhow continued to send coded messages, but unfortunately the downside of being well-known is being well-known. She was soon suspected of espionage and was arrested by the Secret Service in August 1831. Ever determined, Greenhow continued to send her messages from the Old Capitol Prison (at the site of the present day Supreme Court) and later in her home under house arrest, through candles in the windows.

In May 1862, the Federals released Greenhow and deported her to Richmond, Virginia, where she was hailed as a heroine. Jefferson Davis soon dispatched Greenhow to Britain to drum up support for the Southern Cause. Returning to North Carolina in 1864, Rose Greenhow met a tragic end. The ship she had been travelling on had run aground near Cape Fear during a storm. Despite the raging storm, Greenhow demanded to be taken ashore in a rowboat. The boat capsized, and Greenhow drowned. Upon her body, recovered having been washed ashore, was a cipher used for one of her many correspondences. Wow, she was persistent!

*Some historians debate whether or not “H” stood for Henry Wilson or his secretary Horace White.

Sources: Ann Blackman, Wild Rose.

Ishbel Ross, Rebel Rose.