Charles and Nancy Wollstonecraft

By Lauren Gilbert

Botanical illustration and description by Nancy Anne Kingsbury

Wollstonecraft of the Cuban Blue Passion Flower, Vol. I, Pl. 25, ca. 1826

In 2019, we learned of an astonishing discovery: the manuscript of a work long thought lost created by American Anne Kingsbury Wollstonecraft titled SPECIMENS OF THE PLANTS AND FRUITS OF THE ISLAND OF CUBA. This remarkable work consists of three volumes, in which Mrs. Wollstonecraft described various specimens. She also illustrated them beautifully in watercolors herself. Although we know little about her, data shows that she was married to Charles Wollstonecraft, the youngest brother of British author Mary Wollstonecraft, who wrote VINDICATION OF THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN, among other works. I was immediately intrigued. How did Charles Wollstonecraft get to America? What is their story?

Mary Wollstonecraft in 1790-91, By John Opie - Tate Britain

In April 1789, Charles went to Cork, Ireland to stay with family, but returned to his father in the spring of 1791. That didn't work out, so he returned to his brother Ned in the fall. (It appears that Charles had difficulty finding himself.) He was supposed to go to America in 1792 with Joel and Ruth Barlow, American acquaintances of sister Mary. Mr. Barlow was a speculator in land. Mary bought Charles clothes and put him on a farm in Leatherhead so he could learn something of agriculture until his departure. However, Mr. Barlow ended up in France and Charles went to America alone, possibly later in 1792 or in 1793.

There are indications that Charles dabbled in land speculation, and he may have purchased land in Ohio. He was in Philadelphia, PA in late 1794, and wrote to his sisters telling them how well he was doing. In 1795, he became involved with a calico mill with Archibald Hamilton Rowan, another acquaintance of Mary's who was also a speculator. Although he continually wrote in optimistic terms, he did not respond to requests for financial assistance from his family in England.

Apparently, Charles' efforts at speculation in land and calico did not pay off, as he enlisted in the U.S. Army in Pennsylvania in 1798. He was a Lieutenant in 2 Artilleries and Engineers June 4, 1798 and went to Artillery April 1, 1802. Charles married Sarah Garrison of New Orleans in 1804, and they had a daughter named Jane Nelson Wollstonecraft about 1806. Data indicates he divorced Sarah for adultery in 1811, and kept their daughter. He was promoted to Captain March 15, 1805. He served as captain of the Regiment of Artillerists (known as Captain Charles Wollstonecraft's Company from 1806 until late 1815). He himself was transferred to Corps Artillery May 12, 1814 and was present in the British bombardment of Fort St. Philip, Lower Mississippi River, Louisiana from Jan 9-18, 1815 (in the aftermath of the Battle of New Orleans).

A general map of the seat of war in Louisiana & west Florida :
shewing all the fortified points and encampments of both
the American and British armies also the march of
Genl. Jackson's army on his expedition against Pensacola. 1814

Charles married Anne Kingsbury in 1813 in New Orleans. (Her name is commonly shown as Nancy or even Nancy Anne.) She was born October 29, 1791 to Benjamin Kingsbury and Abigail Sawin. She had multiple siblings, and her mother died when she was 12 years old. I found no information on her youth, education or when (and why) she came to New Orleans. I also found no information on how Charles and Nancy became acquainted. She would have been approximately 22 years of age, and he would have been about 43 years old when they were wed.

Charles became brevet major on March 15, 1815, as a reward for 10 years' service in one grade. He died in Louisiana, possibly of fever, September 28, 1817. He left his daughter Jane (then age 12) in Nancy's care, with Nancy as her guardian. Nancy placed Jane in other people's custody, the last being Rev. Richard Hall in New Ipswich, NH. Jane's mother Sarah managed to find and take the child to New York. A custody battle ensued, which resulted in Sarah being awarded custody of the child in August 1819, based in part on Jane's expressed desire to stay with her mother.

Nancy apparently remained in New Orleans for a time. She was a benefactor of the Poydras Female Asylum (an orphanage) in 1817. In 1819, she moved to Matanzas, Cuba. The reason for this move is unclear; health seems a likely possibility as Cuba's subtropical climate made it a destination for sufferers of various health problems, including lung complaints, for which warmth and sea air were specifics.

Throughout the 1820s, Nancy worked on SPECIMENS OF THE PLANTS AND FRUITS OF THE ISLAND OF CUBA. She was very knowledgeable in the study of botany, showing familiarity with the work of Carolus Linnaeus (18th century Swedish botanist who pioneered classification and naming of organisms), Olof Swartz (another Swedish botanist, noted for his work with orchids) and other contemporary scientists. At this time, it is unknown where she studied or if she was self-taught. Besides her scientific knowledge, she was also a talented artist as her illustrations show. (The 3 volume manuscript has been digitized and can be viewed here.)

Portrait of Carl von Linne (Carolus Linnaeus), 1774

In 1825, Nancy visited New England. Under the pseudonym, "D'Anville", she began publishing articles about her botanical studies and about women's issues. "The Natural Rights of Women" was published in the Boston Monthly Magazine in August  1825, in which she appeared to echo many of her sister-in-law Mary Wollstonecraft's views, especially on women's education. (It is tempting to imagine that Charles told Nancy about his sister, and that Nancy read her works. It is certainly not impossible.) Nancy's "Letters from Cuba" appeared in the Boston Monthly Magazine in April and May 1826. On June 10, 1827, her father Benjamin Kingsbury died.

At some point around 1827, Nancy sent her manuscript for SPECIMENS OF THE PLANTS AND FRUITS OF THE ISLAND OF CUBA to New York for publication (her manuscript was known to be there in April 1828, even thought it was not published). There are indications that she was still working on notes for her manuscript when she died on May 16, 1828 in Matanzas, Cuba, aged 46 years.

SOURCES INCLUDE:

Todd, Janet. MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT A Revolutionary Life. 2000: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, London.

AtlasObscura. "A Forgotten Botanist's Stunning 19th Century Manuscript Is Now Online" by Jonathon Carey, February 5, 2019. HERE

Cornell University Library. “Rediscovering a pioneering botanical illustrator.” (no author shown) February 1, 2019. HERE

DaphneJohnson.co.uk. “Edward John WOLLSTONECRAFT/Elizabeth DIXON”, Family Tree Maker, 2/19/05. HERE

Feminist History of Philosophy. “An ‘Exciting New Discovery’: Anne Wollstonecraft, Botanist and Woman’s Rights Writer” by Sandrine Berges, April 25, 2019. HERE

GoogleBooks. Davis, Paris M. AN AUTHENTICK HISTORY OF THE LATE WAR BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES AND GREAT BRITAIN with a Full Account of Every Battle. 1829: ATHAEA. HERE ; Hamersly, T.H.S. COMPLETE REGULAR ARMY REGISTER FOR ONE HUNDRED YEARS (1789-1879). 1881: T.H.S Hamersly, Washington D.C. HERE

Hathi Trust Digital Library. “The Natural Rights of Woman” by D’Anville. Boston Monthly Magazine, Vol. 1, No. 1-7 (1825). HERE ; “Letters from Cuba No. 11”. Boston Monthly Magazine, 1825-1826, S.L. Knapp, Boston. HERE ; Wollstonecraft, Anne Kingsbury. SPECIMENS OF THE PLANTS AND FRUITS OF THE ISLAND OF CUBA, 1826? V. 1, 2 and 3. HERE

National Geographic. “.'Lost' Book of exquisite scientific drawings rediscovered after 190 years” by Czerne Reid, April 22, 2019. HERE

Penelope.uchicago.edu “Historical Memoir of the War in West Florida and Louisiana, 1814-1815” by Major A. Lacarriere Latour, translated by H. P. Nugent, Esq., Philadelphia 1816. Bombardment of Fort St. Philip, in Placquemines Parish [reproduction of an item in the Louisiana Historical Quarterly, published by the Louisiana Historical Society] Bill Thayer, no date of post. HERE

University of Florida. “The Cuban Botanical illustrations (1819- 1828) of Nancy Kingsbury Wollstonecraft (1781-1828) at Cornell University Ithaca, New York” by Emilio Cueto, November 8, 2018 (PDF). HERE

U.S. Army Center of Military History. McKenney, Janice E. FIELD ARTILLERY PART 1. 1985: Center of Military History, Washington D.C. p. 311.HERE

Illustrations:

Botanical illustration and description of the Cuban Blue Passion Flower, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain. HERE

Mary Wollstonecraft by John Opie, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain. HERE

A general map of the seat of war in Louisiana & west Florida 1814. Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain. HERE

Carolus Linnaeus, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain, HERE

An Editor's Choice from the EHFA Archives, originally published May 30, 2019.
~~~~~~~~~~

Lauren Gilbert was introduced to English authors early in life, and the passion has never left. An avid reader, she earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in liberal arts English with a minor in Art History. She is a contributing writer to both volumes of CASTLES, CUSTOMS AND KINGS: True Tales by English Historical Fiction Authors. She has written two novels, including her new release, A RATIONAL ATTACHMENT. She is working on a non-fiction book about powerful women in Regency Europe, and is also researching material for another novel. Visit her website for more information.

The War of 1812: A British-Canadian Victory

by Tom Taylor

Anglo-American War 1812; CC BY-SA 3.0 Wikimedia Commons

This year marks the 205th anniversary of the War of 1812, an extension of the Napoleonic war that many consider Canada’s war of independence, not from Britain but from the United States. Historians often take the beginning of the war to be the Battle of Tippecanoe in November 1811, when General Harrison and the U.S. Fourth Infantry burned Prophet’s Town to the ground. Tecumseh never forgave the Americans for destroying his home and consequently he fought beside the British to the time of his death.

The United States declared war on Great Britain on June 18, 1812 under the guise of an injured party. The royal navy was seizing British deserters off American ships, impinging on newly won American sovereignty. And British orders in council prevented any country trading directly with France. All cargoes had to be approved by England before they could touch a continental port.

In North America, there had been talk of an Indian buffer state between the U.S. and the Canadas which found support in the British foreign office. Also, Canadian fur traders were too successful dealing with the natives in old northwest [now Wisconsin, Indiana, Michigan, and Illinois.] Congressional “war hawks” knew they could solve a lot of problems by what was perceived to be an easy land grab from Britain to the north. Thomas Jefferson declared the acquisition of Canada “will be a mere matter of marching.”

And why wouldn’t he think that? There were eight million Americans against five hundred thousand northern British subjects, many of whom had just arrived from the United States. And to defend an area larger than Britain and France combined, there were 5700 British regular officers and men. Of that number, only 1150 were stationed in all of Upper Canada where 3 out of 5 settlers were newly arrived from the USA. Jefferson and the war hawks looked on British North America as if it was low hanging fruit.

However, at the opening of the war, they hadn’t counted on the unique resistance of Major General Isaac Brock [Guernsey Island man], the cunning of Tecumseh, the determination of Lt. Col. de Salaberry, and the genuine desire of the Canadas to maintain a different way of life.

Sir Issac Brock by John W.L. Forster
[Public Domain] Wikimedia Commons

While much of the land fighting took place in the Niagara Peninsula, there were battles in other key areas. Michilimackinac and Detroit surrendered to the British with few casualties; cargoes were seized on the Great Lakes in the Atlantic Ocean over ship to ship fighting; Queenston Heights was defended at the cost of Brock’s life; Toronto was sacked and burnt; and fought in the pitch dark with bayonets, the battle of Stoney Creek became a turning point for the war in 1813. And all this happened in just the first 12 months.

Some strange events took place during the war. American Lieutenant Porter Hanks, who surrendered Fort Mackinac to the British – Washington had forgot to tell him that war had been declared – was giving his testimony to General Hull in Detroit, when a cannon ball fire from Sandwich [now Windsor], cleared the parapet, bounced in the courtyard, went through an open door, and cut him in half, spewing his innards over the shaken general. Next time you think you are having a bad couple of weeks, think of poor Hanks.

Did you know that Tecumseh, with just twenty-four Shawnee warriors defeated an American force almost ten times his number at the Battle of Brownstown just south of Fort Detroit? His concept of limited siege starved the fort of supplies. It’s said that when Hull surrendered to Brock, he had less than twenty day’s rations remaining.

Tecumseh: attributed to Owen Staples (1866-1949)
Toronto Public Library
[Public Domain] via Wikimedia Commons

Little is known about the “Company of Coloured Men” that fought at the Battle of Queenston Heights. A mixture of ex-slaves and former Butler Rangers, but all Afro-American, fired one or two volleys and charged the American line with bayonets. Think of their fear and courage, knowing that if the Americans won this war, they would be going back to their slave masters.

Southwest of Montreal, in October of 1813, at the Battle of Chateauguay, “the first ever truly all Canadian army” engaged the enemy. Canadian Fencibles and Voltigeurs, 460 of your average French workers so to speak, put to flight 4000 American invaders. The enemy was so sure that Lower Canada would not fight for the British, they sent an emissary on the battle’s eve who shouted from his horse, “Brave Canadians, surrenders yourselves; we wish you no harm.” The Canadian commanding officer, Lt.Col. de Salaberry, grabs a musket himself, and shoots the officer from his horse. A nice French Canadian welcome to Canada.

The next year, we burnt down Washington, and the president’s house! But that story is for another day.

John Donne, the great English writer, in his famous essay/eulogy, The First Anniversary, points out that it is our duty not just to the dead, but to ourselves to remember the spirit those who have past. The notion holds true for individuals and societies. As a nation, we are greater knowing who we are and how we got here.

The War of 1812 isn’t some distant boring history that we can’t understand. Stand in the gates of Fort Malden in Amherstburg, and look out across the river. What did General Brock feel like when he ordered the invasion of the United States against a superior force in a fortified position? Climb the face of the Niagara gorge at Queenston Heights and imagine the American’s fear when they jumped to their deaths rather than face the tomahawk of native warriors. Breathe the fresh water smell of the Niagara River in the early morning. See, feel, touch and smell our history.

The War of 1812 was the last foreign war fought on Canadian soil. As much or perhaps more than any other single war, this war and its myths defined who we are as Canadians and solidified our loyalty to the British crown for generations. We owe it to ourselves to embrace and honour this great British/Canadian achievement. We’re still here. We won.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tom Taylor is the author of Brock’s Agent, and three other award winning novels with the backdrop of the War of 1812. Published by Bonnier Publishing, Zaffra Imprint Division in the UK, and by Hancock and Dean in Canada, the series follows the career of Upper Canada’s first secret agent in the war. For more information about his writing, visit his website www.tomtaylor.ca. 

Louisa Catherine Adams-The Fifth First Lady of the United States (Part III)

by Lauren Gilbert

Louisa Catherine Johnson Adams by Gilbert Stuart 1821-1826

Part I can be found HERE
Part II can be found HERE

As we’ve seen, Louisa Johnson married John Quincy Adams on July 26, 1797, and discovered her father, who went back to America with the rest of her family shortly afterwards, was in debt to the wide and did not pay her dowry of 5000 pounds. According to some sources, John Quincy turned the household accounts, normally handled by a wife, over to his valet and left her feeling  that he included her in his disillusionment with her father and family resulting from his being approached by Joshua Johnson’s creditors. Although they shared some interests, including reading, and were genuinely in love, theirs was a difficult union: two insecure and extremely sensitive people, one of whom considered himself the master, to teach and lead the other (John Quincy) while the other yearned to be a partner with a voice who was not afraid to stand up for herself (Louisa). On top of this, Louisa became pregnant almost immediately. By all accounts, this was a difficult pregnancy; John Quincy’s own diaries make frequent references to Mrs. Adams’ sickness. It is also pertinent to remember that Napoleon was making himself felt on the continent. They finally left for John Quincy’s posting in Berlin on October 18, 1797, requiring a difficult sea crossing and an equally difficult land journey to Berlin which took six days. Shortly after settling into a hotel, Louisa suffered the first of multiple miscarriages almost immediately after their arrival. It was a long-drawn-out and excruciatingly painful ordeal for which the doctors could do little. To his credit, John Quincy was a support and took great care of Louisa during this time, and the situation united them much more closely. They settled into lodgings, and Louisa began her recovery; John Quincy presented his credentials, was presented and immediately began participating in the Prussian court society. 

Louisa, left to herself in the lodgings, became very lonely as she received no visitors and no invitations, while John Quincy made no effort to have her presented at court. Discovering that Queen Louise was starting to think that John Quincy and Louisa were not married, John Quincy escorted Louisa to the theatre one evening when the King and Queen of Prussia were expected to attend, and Louisa drew considerable attention. Subsequently, she was presented to Queen Louise, with whom she became quite friendly. Close in age to Louisa, Queen Louise was renowned for her beauty and charm, and she was also extremely kind. Louisa’s background, between her family’s social activities and her involvement with Anglo-American circles with Mr. and Mrs. Pinckney in London, fitted her to shine in diplomatic society abroad. Her fluent French was also an advantage. Unbeknownst to John Quincy, she became a significant asset to him, especially since diplomacy was (as it still is) conducted in social settings almost as much as in conference rooms. While he was waiting for her to make a mistake and cause him embarrassment, Louisa was busy becoming a success, meeting people and smoothing his way. This would become a recurring theme throughout their marriage. In the meanwhile, John Quincy worried about her acquiring monarchical tendencies, too fond of pomp and circumstances for American tastes (especially his mother’s). Ironically, because John Quincy was the son of the American president as well as an ambassador, they were given a higher place in court protocol than may have been expected. Of course, this meant they had to entertain as well as attend court functions (which meant appropriate apparel for both) on an extremely limited budget and while Louisa continued to experience poor health. She apparently had difficult menstrual cycles and suffered multiple miscarriages which deeply pained her and John Quincy both. It was during this time that she developed the on-going health problems for which she was subsequently know, which included debilitating headaches and fainting spells.  

In February of 1801, they received news of two painful events: John Adams lost the presidency to Thomas Jefferson, and John Quincy’s brother Charles died. The bright spot came on April 12 of 1801, when Louisa delivered a living son whom they named George Washington Adams, after yet another difficult and painful labour. Although she subsequently suffered a high fever and was very ill, she was recovering when John Quincy and his family were ordered to return to the United States. They left Berlin on June 17, 1801. Louisa was on her way to America, a place she had never visited even though she was a citizen. Apparently, during the trip, John Quincy also told her all about Mary Frazier and his failed courtship, which could not have helped her feel more confident. Upon arrival, John Quincy went to Massachusetts to his family home, and she took baby George and went to see her family in Georgetown, near Washington. The visit was not very happy by all accounts: Mr. Johnson’s financial problems were known, he was in poor health, and John Quincy’s absence was noted. In October, John Quincy came to get her and George to bring them home to John and Abigail Adams’ house.

Louisa’s entrance into the Adams’ family was not easy. John and Abigail made no pretence of sincere friendliness; with her foreign upbringing, she felt equally out of place with them. Abigail in particular disapproved of Louisa as a fine lady, and Louisa had no training to be the kind of housewife that Abigail would find suitable. Abigail was also concerned about Louisa’s poor health. Louisa herself was very aware of the differences between her upbringing as an American in England, and felt the differences keenly. Eventually, her intelligence, love of reading and genuine desire for approval won over John Adams and they did develop a close friendship. Her relationship with Abigail was much more difficult, as John Quincy developed a bad habit of discussing his household issues with his mother, then informing his wife of the decisions that he and his mother made. Louisa, of course, would make known her objections, and then ultimately go along. It cannot be a coincidence that her health issues, particularly the headaches and fainting spells continued. They moved into their own home in Boston, but issues did not improve as Louisa did not know how to manage the household, especially as she was expected to participate in the work of the household. Money was, as always , short, and John Quincy kept track of every cent and never hesitated to  show his aggravation. John Quincy was extremely busy with his law practice and in May of 1801 became a representative to the state senate. Louisa was left on her own increasingly. In February of 1803, he was appointed to the United States Senate by the legislature. Louisa, pregnant again, discovered she would be going to Washington just when she was starting to feel settled. Their second child was born July 4, 1803 and named John. The family arrived in Washington on October 20, 1803. This was the beginning of Louisa’s life as a political wife.

Their children were a special bone of contention. In the fall of 1805, John Quincy decided to leave their two sons in Massachusetts, without consulting Louisa and with Abigail’s complicity, while he and Louisa went to Washington.  Louisa was upset but went along. In addition to missing her children, she was experiencing a difficult pregnancy. Because of her pregnancy, John Quincy left her in Washington when he returned to Massachusetts for the summer (now without him AND her children). Sadly, her pregnancy resulted in a still birth.  Louisa finally made it home to Massachusetts in August 1806. The next term of Congress, she and the children stayed in Boston in miserable lodgings, again without consultation with Louisa. Clearly, John Quincy had no intention of allowing Louisa a voice, even though he consulted regularly with his mother. Equally clearly, Louisa made her anger at being so treated known, but went along anyway. During the summer of 1807, Louisa was pregnant again and she gave birth to a third son after yet another excruciating labour (the baby, named Charles Francis, was breech). When John Quincy took his family back to Washington for the 1807-1808 term, she was allowed to take the new baby; the two older children again stayed behind, this time boarding with John Quincy’s aunts (Abigail’s sisters) individually (George with Elizabeth Peabody and John with Mary Cranch). Louisa submitted, but not happily, and she did not agree that child rearing by proxy was good for her children. Given the number of miscarriages she had and the difficult labours she experienced, her attachment to her living children must have been particularly intense.  

Increasing political activity stemming from tension with Great Britain took John Quincy away even more and resulted him changing parties from the Federalists to the Republicans in support of Thomas Jefferson and James Madison. This resulted in his resigning his Senate seat and the family returning again to Boston in 1808, only to face social ostracism. Even John and Abigail Adams were upset about his change. He went to Washington to conduct three cases before the Supreme Court, again leaving Louisa and his children behind. She had become  pregnant again but lost the baby early in 1809 while John Quincy was away,  when she slipped and fell on ice. They had argued before he left, and conducted a bitter exchange of letters, even after the miscarriage. In July of 1809, the Madison administration offered John Quincy the position of minister plenipotentiary to Russia, which he accepted. Despite their friction, John Quincy wanted Louisa with him. He made arrangement, again with Abigail, to leave the two older boys with an aunt and uncle, while Louisa and little Charles accompanied him. There is no indication Louisa had any participation in deciding who would go with them and who would stay behind. This time, Louisa’s sister Kitty was among the party to go so at least she had a family member with her when they took ship on August 5, 1809, beginning an eighty-day voyage.  

Their arrival was difficult, as they had only the clothing they stood up in as, after they got off the ship in Kronstadt, it floated back out to sea with all of their belongings. They had to go on to St. Petersburg. The beginning of John Quincy’s mission was not going well: the drinking water had affected everyone (diarrhea), and they discovered that their luggage had been ransacked when it was finally returned. Again, as an ambassador, John Quincy and his wife were expected to be part of the social scene and, again, John Quincy was focused on their lack of money. Even though he was much more than he had been in Prussia (Louisa Thomas indicates only the president was paid more [1]).  Unfortunately, the Russian court was vastly wealthier, the social duties were heavier (almost nightly), and the entire party needed complete new wardrobes-they had to keep up with the Joneses with a vengeance, so to speak.

John Quincy’s assignment included fostering good relations with the Russians and there was no way for him or for Louisa to evade their social responsibilities. The expenses of daily living, combined with the costs of wardrobe suitable for court brought Louisa’s anxiety about her dowry to the forefront again. However, in spite of the financial hemorrhage resulting, Louisa enjoyed parties and dancing. She did not enjoy the high status she had held in Prussia (thanks largely to her friendship with Queen Louise) but did succeed in charming the Russian court and once again being an asset to John Quincy. The high-waisted flowing style we now associate with the Regency era in England was popular in Russia, and Louisa became very creative in stretching her and Kitty’s wardrobe funds as much as possible, not least in sewing their own gowns. Both John Quincy and Louisa bemoaned the exorbitant costs of living in Russia at this time, while carrying out their duties. Louisa suffered another miscarriage in February of 1810, but got back into her routine as quickly as possible. In the spring of 1811, John Quincy was offered a position on the Supreme Court. However, he declined, using the fact that Louisa was pregnant as an excuse. On August 11, after an uneventful pregnancy and labour, she delivered a little girl, who was named after her mother, Louisa Catherine. Louisa and John Quincy were both entranced with their daughter. John Quincy had sent for their sons in March of 1812, but war being declared with Great Britain, their trip was postponed indefinitely. The vast distance delayed news between the United States and Russia, and Louisa was much more experienced with separation from her family and children, so she was able to take comfort of Charles and Louisa Catherine.  Sadly, Louisa Catherine became ill and, after a long illness died September 15, 1812, the same day Napoleon rode through Moscow.

 

Both John Quincy and Louisa were devastated by her death. John Quincy was able to find some comfort in his work, but Louisa’s grief did not abate. John Quincy’s response was to buy her a book by Benjamin Rush, MEDICAL INQUIRIES and OBSERVATIONS, UPON DISEASES of the MIND. Not exactly a sensitive gift. She blamed herself for her child’s death and missed her two sons left behind more than ever; these feelings rekindled her anger with John Quincy. He was relieved when he asked to be part of a peace commission, which resulted in his departure April 28, 1814 and which was to keep him away for several months, leaving Louisa and Charles in St. Petersburg. Her health was never robust. Ironically, during her time in Russia, Louisa and her mother-in-law drew closer than they had ever been by letter. John Quincy’s departure left Louisa in complete charge of the household, while expecting her to maintain her social responsibilities. After years of not being allowed to handle anything, it is not unreasonable to assume that Louisa doubted her own abilities. However, she rose to the occasion and even enjoyed being in charge. Their letters indicate that they seem to have reconciled their differences at least to some extent, and showed a mutual affection. However, the prospect of yet another Russian winter, this time with John Quincy away, put a further strain on her. The peace commission took longer than anyone anticipated, but peace with Great Britain was finally concluded in December 1814. At that point, John Quincy dropped a bombshell on her: he informed her that he would not be returning to Russia and ordered her to sell everything she did not want to keep for the best price possible, and bring their son to join him in Paris as soon as she was able.  This put Louisa in position for a journey that was a defining experience in her life, and an illustration of the strength and character of this fascinating woman.

Part IV will discuss Louisa’s journey from St. Petersburg to Paris, her further career in Washington as the wife of Secretary of State and as First Lady, and our conclusion.

Notes:

[1] Thomas, Louisa.  LOUISA  The Extraordinary Life of Mrs. Adams. P. 172.

Sources include:

See sources listed in Parts I and II and

Caroli, Betty Boyd.  THE FIRST LADIES from Martha Washington to Michelle Obama 4th edition.  New York: Madison Park Press (an imprint of Direct Brands, Inc.), 2009.

Heffron, Margery M. LOUISA CATHERINE The Other Mrs. Adams.  New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014.

Roberts, Cokie.  LADIES OF LIBERTY The Women Who Shaped Our Nation.  New York: HarperCollins, 2008.

Thomas, Louisa.  LOUISA The Extraordinary Life of Mrs. Adams.  New York: Penguin Press, 2016.

Withey, Lynne.  DEAREST FRIEND A Life of Abigail Adams.  New York: Touchstone/Simon & Schuster, 2001 (originally published 1981 by the Free Press).

Image: Wikimedia Commons, HERE

About the author: Lauren Gilbert is the author of HEYERWOOD: A Novel, released in 2011.  A second novel A RATIONAL ATTACHMENT is in process.  She lives in Florida with her husband, with some roses (white ones are blooming) and gardenias, herbs and pineapples.  Please visit her website at www.lauren-gilbert.com for more information.

Samuel Leech's Account of War at Sea

by Wanda Luce

Every time I read Jane Austen's famous, historical novel Persuasion, I wonder what life for Captain Wentworth might have been like aboard one of his frigates.  In anticipation of this post, I came across this actual account of one sailor's experience and thought I would share it. I have not posted the entire account due to its length, but I believe you will have a clear sense of what a Georgian or Regency-era wartime sailor might have experienced.

SAMUEL LEECH HMS Macedonian vs. USS United States 1812

 Samuel Leech, R.N., fought in the battle between the 38 gun HMS Macedonian, commanded by Captain John Surman Carden, and the 44 gun USS United States, Commodore Stephen Decatur on October 25th 1812.



 



"At Plymouth we heard some vague rumors of a declaration of war against America. More than this, we could not learn, since the utmost care was taken to prevent our being fully informed. The reason of this secrecy was, probably, because we had several Americans in our crew, most of whom were pressed men, as before stated. These men, had they been certain that war had broken out, would have given themselves up as prisoners of war, and claimed exemption from that unjust service, which compelled them to act with the enemies of their country.

Captain john Surman Carden

This was a privilege which the magnanimity of our officers ought to have offered them. They had already perpetrated a grievous wrong upon them in impressing them; it was adding cruelty to injustice to compel their service in a war against their own nation. But the difficulty with naval officers is, that they do not treat with a sailor as with a man. They know what is fitting between each other as officers; but they treat their crews on another principle; they are apt to look at them as pieces of living mechanism, born to serve, to obey their orders, and administer to their wishes without complaint. This is alike a bad morality and a bad philosophy. 

There is often more real manhood in the forecastle than in the ward-room; and until the common sailor is treated as a man, until every feeling of human nature is conceded to him in naval discipline--perfect, rational subordination will never be attained in ships of war, or in merchant vessels. It is needless to tell of the intellectual degradation of the mass of seamen. "A man's a man for a' that;" and it is this very system of discipline, this treating them as automatons, which keeps them degraded. When will human nature put more confidence in itself?

 Leaving Plymouth, we next anchored, for a brief space, at Torbay, a small port in the British Channel. We were ordered thence to convoy a huge East India merchant vessel, much larger than our frigate and having five hundred troops on board, bound to the East Indies with money to pay the troops stationed there. We set sail in a tremendous gale of wind. Both ships stopped two days at Madeira to take in wine and a few other articles. After leaving this island, we kept her company two days more; and then, according to orders, having wished her success, we left her to pursue her voyage, while we returned to finish our cruise.

 
Though without any positive information, we now felt pretty certain that our government was at war with America. Among other things, our captain appeared more anxious than usual; he was on deck almost all the time; the "look-out" aloft was more rigidly observed; and every little while the cry of "Mast-head there!" arrested our attention.

 
It is customary in men of war to keep men at the fore and main mastheads, whose duty it is to give notice of every new object that may appear. They are stationed in the royal yards, if they are up, but if not, on the top-gallant yards: at night a look-out is kept on the fore yard only.

 

Thus we passed several days; the captain running up and down and constantly hailing the man at the mast-head: early in the morning he began his charge "to keep a good look-out," and continued to repeat it until night.

 

Indeed, he seemed almost crazy with some pressing anxiety. The men felt there was something anticipated, of which they were ignorant; and had the captain heard all their remarks upon his conduct, he would not have felt very highly flattered. Still, everything went on as usual; the day was spent in the ordinary duties of man-of-war life, and the evening in telling stories of things most rare and wonderful; for your genuine old tar is an adept in spinning yarns, and some of them, in respect to variety and length, might safely aspire to a place beside the great magician of the north, Sir Walter Scott, or any of those prolific heads that now bring forth such abundance of fiction to feed a greedy public, who read as eagerly as our men used to listen. 

To this yarn-spinning was added the most humorous singing, sometimes dashed with a streak of the pathetic, which I assure my readers was most touching; especially one very plaintive melody, with a chorus beginning with,  "Now if our ship should be cast away, It would be our lot to see old England no more," which made rather a melancholy impression on my boyish mind, and gave rise to a sort of presentiment that the Macedonian would never return home again; a presentiment which had its fulfilment in a manner totally unexpected to us all. The presence of a shark for several days, with its attendant pilot fish, tended to strengthen this prevalent idea. 

The Sabbath came, and it brought with it a stiff breeze. We usually made a sort of holiday of this sacred day. After breakfast it was common to muster the entire crew on the spar deck, dressed as the fancy of the captain might dictate; sometimes in blue jackets and white trowsers, or blue jackets and blue trowsers; at other times in blue jackets, scarlet vests, and blue or white trowsers with our bright anchor buttons glancing in the sun, and our black, glossy hats, ornamented with black ribbons, and with the name of our ship painted on them. After muster, we frequently had church service read by the captain; the rest of the day was devoted to idleness. But we were destined to spend the Sabbath, just introduced to the reader, in a very different manner.

 
We had scarcely finished breakfast, before the man at the mast-head shouted, "Sail ho!" 
The captain rushed upon deck, exclaiming, "Mast-head there!" 
"Sir!" 
"Where away is the sail?" 
The precise answer to this question I do not recollect, but the captain proceeded to ask, "What does she look like?" 
"A square-rigged vessel, sir," was the reply of the look-out. 
After a few minutes, the captain shouted again, 'Mast-head there!" 
"Sir!" 
"What does she look like?" 
"A large ship, sir, standing toward us!" 
By this time, most of the crew were on deck, eagerly straining their eyes to obtain a glimpse of the approaching ship and murmuring their opinions to each other on her probable character. Then came the voice of the captain, shouting, "Keep silence, fore and aft!" Silence being secured, he hailed the look-out, who, to his question of "What does she look like?" replied, "A large frigate, bearing down upon us, sir!"  

A whisper ran along the crew that the stranger ship was a Yankee frigate. The thought was confirmed by the command of "All hands clear the ship for action, ahoy!" The drum and fife beat to quarters; bulk-heads were knocked away; the guns were released from their confinement; the whole dread paraphernalia of battle was produced; and after the lapse of a few minutes of hurry and confusion, every man and boy was at his post, ready to do his best service for his country, except the band, who, claiming exemption from the affray, safely stowed themselves away in the cable tier. We had only one sick man on the list, and he, at the cry of battle, hurried from his cot, feeble as he was, to take his post of danger. A few of the junior midshipmen were stationed below, on the berth deck, with orders, given in our hearing, to shoot any man who attempted to run from his quarters.

 
Our men were all in good spirits; though they did not scruple to express the wish that the coming foe was a Frenchman rather than a Yankee. We had been told, by the Americans on board, that frigates in the American service carried more and heavier metal than ours. This, together with our consciousness of superiority over the French at sea, led us to a preference for a French antagonist.

 
The Americans among our number felt quite disconcerted at the necessity which compelled them to fight against their own countrymen. One of them, named John Card, as brave a seaman as ever trod a plank, ventured to present himself to the captain, as a prisoner, frankly declaring his objections to fight. That officer, very ungenerously, ordered him to his quarters, threatening to shoot him if he made the request again. Poor fellow! He obeyed the unjust command and was killed by a shot from his own countrymen. This fact is more disgraceful to the captain of the Macedonian than even the loss of his ship. It was a gross and a palpable violation of the rights of man.

 
As the approaching ship showed American colors, all doubt of her character was at an end. "We must fight her," was the conviction of every breast. Every possible arrangement that could insure success was accordingly made. The guns were shotted; the matches lighted; for, although our guns were all furnished with first-rate locks they were also provided with matches, attached by lanyards, in case the lock should miss fire. A lieutenant then passed through the ship, directing the marines and boarders, who were furnished with pikes, cutlasses, and pistols, how to proceed if it should be necessary to board the enemy. He was followed by the captain, who exhorted the men to fidelity and courage, urging upon their consideration the well-known motto of the brave Nelson, "England expects every man to do his duty."In addition to all these preparations on deck, some men were stationed in the tops with small-arms, whose duty it was to attend to trimming the sails and to use their muskets, provided we came to close action. There were others one of also below, called sail trimmers, to assist in working the ship should it be necessary to shift her position during the battle.

 
My station was at the fifth gun on the main deck. It was my duty to supply my gun with powder, a boy being appointed to each gun in the ship on the side we engaged, for this purpose. A woollen screen was placed before the entrance to the magazine, with a hole in it, through which the cartridges were passed to the boys; we received them there, and covering them with our jackets, hurried to our respective guns. These precautions are observed to prevent the powder taking fire before it reaches the gun. 
Thus we all stood, awaiting orders, in motionless suspense. At last we fired three guns from the larboard side of the main deck; this was followed by the command, "Cease firing; you are throwing away your shot!"  

Then came the order to "wear ship," and prepare to attack the enemy with our starboard guns. Soon after this I heard a firing from some other quarter, which I at first supposed to be a discharge from our quarter deck guns; though it proved to be the roar of the enemy's cannon.

 
A strange noise, such as I had never heard before, next arrested my attention; it sounded like the tearing of sails, just over our heads. This I soon ascertained to be the wind of the enemy's shot. The firing, after a few minutes' cessation, recommenced. The roaring of cannon could now be heard from all parts of our trembling ship, and, mingling as it did with that of our foes, it made a most hideous noise. By-and-by I heard the shot strike the sides of our ship; the whole scene grew indescribably confused and horrible; it was like some awfully tremendous thunder-storm, whose deafening roar is attended by incessant streaks of lightning, carrying death in every flash and strewing the ground with the victims of its wrath: only, in our case, the scene was rendered more horrible than that, by the presence of torrents of blood which dyed our decks.

 
Though the recital may be painful, yet, as it will reveal the horrors of war and show at what a fearful price a victory is won or lost, I will present the reader with things as they met my eye during the progress of this dreadful fight. I was busily supplying my gun with powder, when I saw blood suddenly fly from the arm of a man stationed at our gun. I saw nothing strike him; the effect alone was visible; in an instant, the third lieutenant tied his handkerchief round the wounded arm, and sent the groaning wretch below to the surgeon.
 
The cries of the wounded now rang through all parts of the ship. These were carried to the cockpit as fast as they fell, while those more fortunate men, who were killed outright, were immediately thrown overboard. As I was stationed but a short distance from the main hatchway, I could catch a glance at all who were carried below. A glance was all I could indulge in, for the boys belonging to the guns next to mine were wounded in the early part of the action, and I had to spring with all my might to keep three or four guns supplied with cartridges. I saw two of these lads fall nearly together. 

 One of them was struck in the leg by a large shot; he had to suffer amputation above the wound. The other had a grape or canister shot sent through his ancle. A stout Yorkshireman lifted him in his arms and hurried him to the cockpit. He had his foot cut off, and was thus made lame for life. Two of the boys stationed on the quarter deck were killed. They were both Portuguese. A man, who saw one of them killed, afterwards told me that his powder caught fire and burnt the flesh almost off his face. In this pitiable situation, the agonized boy lifted up both hands, as if imploring relief, when a passing shot instantly cut him in two.  

I was an eye-witness to a sight equally revolting. A man named Aldrich had his hands cut off by a shot, and almost at the same moment he received another shot, which tore open his bowels in a terrible manner. As he fell, two or three men caught him in their arms, and, as he could not live, threw him overboard. 

One of the officers in my division also fell in my sight. He was a noble-hearted fellow, named Nan Kivell. A grape or canister shot struck him near the heart: exclaiming, "Oh! my God!" he fell, and was carried below, where he shortly after died.

 
Mr. Hope, our first lieutenant, was also slightly wounded by a grummet, or small iron ring, probably torn from a hammock clew by a shot. He went below, shouting to the men to fight on. Having had his wound dressed, he came up again, shouting to us at the top of his voice, and bidding us fight with all our might. There was not a man in the ship but would have rejoiced had he been in the place of our master's mate, the unfortunate Nan Kivell.

 
The battle went on. Our men kept cheering with all their might. I cheered with them, though I confess I scarcely knew for what. Certainly there was nothing very inspiriting in the aspect of things where I was stationed. So terrible had been the work of destruction round us, it was termed the slaughter-house. Not only had we had several boys and men killed or wounded, but several of the guns were disabled. 

The one I belonged to had a piece of the muzzle knocked out; and when the ship rolled, it struck a beam of the upper deck with such force as to become jammed and fixed in that position. A twenty-four-pound shot had also passed through the screen of the magazine, immediately over the orifice through which we passed our powder. The schoolmaster received a death wound. The brave boatswain, who came from the sick bay to the din of battle, was fastening a stopper on a back-stay which had been shot away, when his head was smashed to pieces by a cannon-ball; another man, going to complete the unfinished task, was also struck down. Another of our midshipmen also received a severe wound. 

The unfortunate wardroom steward, who, the reader will recollect, attempted to cut his throat on a former occasion, was killed. A fellow named John, who, for some petty offence, had been sent on board as a punishment, was carried past me, wounded. I distinctly heard the large blood-drops fall pat, pat, pat, on the deck; his wounds were mortal. Even a poor goat, kept by the officers for her milk, did not escape the general carnage; her hind legs were shot off, and poor Nan was thrown overboard.

Such was the terrible scene, amid which we kept on our shouting and firing. Our men fought like tigers. Some of them pulled off their jackets, others their jackets and vests; while some, still more determined, had taken off their shirts, and, with nothing but a handkerchief tied round the waistbands of their trowsers, fought like heroes. Jack Sadler, whom the reader will recollect, was one of these. I also observed a boy, named Cooper, stationed at a gun some distance from the magazine. He came to and fro on the full run and appeared to be as "merry as a cricket." The third lieutenant cheered him along, occasionally, by saying, "Well done, my boy, you are worth your weight in gold."

 
I have often been asked what were my feelings during this fight. I felt pretty much as I suppose every one does at such a time. That men are without thought when they stand amid the dying and the dead is too absurd an idea to be entertained a moment. We all appeared cheerful, but I know that many a serious thought ran through my mind: still, what could we do but keep up a semblance, at least, of animation? To run from our quarters would have been certain death from the hands of our own officers; to give way to gloom, or to show fear, would do no good, and might brand us with the name of cowards, and ensure certain defeat. 

Our only true philosophy, therefore, was to make the best of our situation by fighting bravely and cheerfully. I thought a great deal, however, of the other world; every groan, every falling man, told me that the next instant I might be before the judge of all the earth. For this, I felt unprepared; but being without any particular knowledge of religious truth, I satisfied myself by repeating again and again the Lord's prayer and promising that if spared I would be more attentive to religious duties than ever before. This promise I had no doubt, at the time, of keeping; but I have learned since that it is easier to make promises amidst the roar of the battle's thunder, or in the horrors of shipwreck, than to keep them when danger is absent and safety smiles upon our path.

 
While these thoughts secretly agitated my bosom, the din of battle continued. Grape and canister shot were pouring through our port-holes like leaden rain, carrying death in their trail. The large shot came against the ship's side like iron hail, shaking her to the very keel, or passing through her timbers and scattering terrific splinters, which did a more appalling work than even their own death-giving blows. The reader may form an idea of the effect of grape and canister, when he is told that grape shot is formed by seven or eight balls confined to an iron and tied in a cloth. These balls are scattered by the explosion of the powder. Canister shot is made by filling a powder canister with balls, each as large as two or three musket balls; these also scatter with direful effect when discharged. What then with splinters, cannon balls, grape and canister poured incessantly upon us, the reader may be assured that the work of death went on in a manner which must have been satisfactory even to the King of Terrors himself.

 
Suddenly, the rattling of the iron hail ceased. We were ordered to cease firing. A profound silence ensued, broken only by the stifled groans of the brave sufferers below. It was soon ascertained that the enemy had shot ahead to repair damages, for she was not so disabled but she could sail without difficulty; while we were so cut up that we lay utterly helpless. Our head braces were shot away; the fore and main top-masts were gone; the mizzen mast hung over the stern, having carried several men over in its fall: we were in the state of a complete wreck.

 
A council was now held among the officers on the quarter deck. Our condition was perilous in the extreme: victory or escape was alike hopeless. Our ship was disabled; many of our men were killed, and many more wounded. The enemy would without doubt bear down upon us in a few moments, and, as she could now choose her own position, would without doubt rake us fore and aft. Any further resistance was therefore folly. 

So, in spite of the hot-brained lieutenant, Mr. Hope, who advised them not to strike, but to sink alongside, it was determined to strike our bunting. This was done by the hands of a brave fellow named Watson, whose saddened brow told how severely it pained his lion heart to do it. To me it was a pleasing sight, for I had seen fighting enough for one Sabbath; more than I wished to see again on a week day. His Britannic Majesty's frigate Macedonian was now the prize of the American frigate United States.

 
I NOW WENT below, to see how matters appeared there. The first object I met was a man bearing a limb, which had just been detached from some suffering wretch. Pursuing my way to the ward-room, I necessarily passed through the steerage, which was strewed with the wounded: it was a sad spectacle, made more appalling by the groans and cries which rent the air. Some were groaning, others were swearing most bitterly, a few were praying, while those last arrived were begging most piteously to have their wounds dressed next. The surgeon and his mate were smeared with blood from head to foot: they looked more like butchers than doctors. Having so many patients, they had once shifted their quarters from the cockpit to the steerage; they now removed to the ward-room, and the long table, round which the officers had sat over many a merry feast, was soon covered with the bleeding forms of maimed and mutilated seamen.

 
While looking round the ward-room, I heard a noise above, occasioned by the arrival of the boats from the conquering frigate. Very soon a lieutenant, I think his name was Nicholson, came into the ward-room and said to the busy surgeon, "How do you do, doctor?"

 
"I have enough to do," replied he, shaking his head thoughtfully; "you have made wretched work for us!" These officers were not strangers to each other, for the reader will recollect that the commanders and officers of these two frigates had exchanged visits when we were lying at Norfolk some months before. 
I now set to work to render all the aid in my power to the sufferers. Our carpenter, named Reed, had his leg cut off. I helped to carry him to the after ward-room; but he soon breathed out his life there, and then I assisted in throwing his mangled remains overboard. We got out the cots as fast as possible; for most of them were stretched out on the gory deck. One poor fellow, who lay with a broken thigh, begged me to give him water. I gave him some. He looked unutterable gratitude, drank, and died. It was with exceeding difficulty I moved through the steerage, it was so covered with mangled men and so slippery with streams of blood."

***

How anyone man could endure so terrible an experience is beyond my understanding.  I stand in awe of anyone who came through so grotesque, so hideous an ordeal and still had their wits about them!  I think I can safely say that Captain Wentworth would have been no pansy.  The hero in my second book--which is not yet in print--was also a captain in the Napoleonic Wars, but he somewhat loses his moral compass as a result of his experiences.  It is, of course, the heroine who inspires him to find it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
www.wandajuneluce.blogspot.com
lucewandarings@gmail.com