The Captain's Widow of Sandwich: Self-Invention and the Life of Hannah Rebecca Burgess, 1834-1917

The Captain’s Widow of Sandwich

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The Captain’s Widow of Sandwich Self-Invention and the Life of Hannah Rebecca Burgess, 1834–1917

Megan Taylor Shockley

 NEW YORK UNIVERSIT Y PRESS New York and London

NEW YORK UNIVERSITY PRESS New York and London www.nyupress.org © 2010 by New York University All rights reserved Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Shockley, Megan Taylor. The captain’s widow of Sandwich : self-invention and the life of Hannah Rebecca Burgess, 1834–1917 / Megan Taylor Shockley. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN-13: 978–0–8147–8319–1 (cloth : alk. paper) ISBN-10: 0–8147–8319–8 (cloth : alk. paper) 1. Burgess, Hannah Rebecca, 1834–1917. 2. Burgess, Hannah Rebecca, 1834–1917— Diaries. 3. Ship captains’ spouses—Massachusetts—Sandwich—Biography. 4. Middle class women—Massachusetts—Sandwich—Biography. 5. Women— Massachusetts—Sandwich—Biography. 6. Sandwich (Mass.)—Biography. 7. Sandwich (Mass.)—Social life and customs—19th century—Sources. 8. Seafaring life—Massachusetts—Sandwich—History—19th century—Sources. 9. Women—Identity—Case studies. 10. Autobiography—Women authors— Case studies. I. Title. F74.S17S55 2010 910.4’5—dc22 [B] 2009042908 New York University Press books are printed on acid-free paper, and their binding materials are chosen for strength and durability. We strive to use environmentally responsible suppliers and materials to the greatest extent possible in publishing our books. Manufactured in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Contents

Acknowledgments

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Author’s Note on the Journals

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Introduction 1

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Rebecca’s World: Developing Character

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2 Becoming the Captain’s Wife: Crafting Personas and Defining Relationships

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3 Rebecca at Sea: Fashioning a New Identity

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4 Challenges and Transitions: Shifting Identities

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5 A New Era, a New Narrative

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6 Visible and Invisible: Rebecca’s Multiple Identities

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7 From Legacy to Legend

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Conclusion

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Appendix

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Notes

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Works Cited

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Index

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About the Author

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Acknowledgments

When my husband and I visited Cape Cod in 2002, little did we know that our vacation would take me to my next research project. A fateful trip to the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society on a rainy day introduced me to Rebecca Burgess through the collection she so carefully crafted before her death. The woman’s story of adventure and tragedy intrigued me, and when I discovered that she had left her journals to the museum, I knew I had to learn more about her. My interest led to this book and many subsequent summers on the Cape. I must credit many people for making this book possible. First, Melissa Walker, Judy Ryan, Jennifer Fish Kashay, and Sarah Deutsch helped me see the “big picture” of change in the little story of Rebecca and her town. They pushed me to find the larger context of Rebecca’s story, and the book is much richer as a result. I am also extremely indebted to Cynthia Kierner, whose thoughtful comments on my first draft of the manuscript helped me rethink chronology and narrative. Joan Druett, Lisa Norling, Elizabeth Varon and an anonymous reader urged me to look beyond the simple story presented by Rebecca, and their insights and critiques greatly strengthened this project. Clemson University has also been extremely supportive of this endeavor. My colleagues, particularly Steve Marks and Stephanie Barczewski, have always listened patiently as I worked through the issues, trials, and challenges associated with writing a narrative historical biography. They read various incarnations of the manuscript and offered valuable advice and guidance. I received travel grants and course releases, which enabled me to complete the book. And other colleagues, Ed Moise and Susanna Ashton, gave invaluable assistance by helping me find sources in a field new and unfamiliar to me. In addition, Zach Howser provided assistance with tracking occupations of immigrants in census data. I could not have done this work without the assistance of the talented archivists, librarians, and curators both at Clemson University and on Cape Cod. Priscilla Munson helped me track down population data and citation |

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information, and she showed me how to navigate and mine the census database at Clemson University. Barbara Gill located numerous genealogical sources and town records for me at the Sandwich Town Archives and Historical Center, and Lauren Robinson of the Sandwich Public Library went to great lengths to assist me with microfilm issues. In addition, Mary Sicchio helped me find information on the Yarmouth Camp Meeting at the Nickerson Room. The people at the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society and the Bourne Historic Center unearthed unmined sources, providing me with valuable information I would not have been able to find on my own, and welcoming me, day after day, into their lives and their archives. Eliane Thomas and Dorothy Schofield of the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society worked tirelessly to help me with my research. They are unfailing in their quest to help researchers, despite constraints of time and money. Not only did they make my work easier, but they made me look forward to driving down the Cape every day to see them. And Jerry and Beth Ellis, descendents of Rebecca’s relatives, invited me into their home, shared stories, and helped me see the connections between kin and family in the area. As the head of the Bourne Historical Commission, Jerry helped me go through Rebecca’s collection at the Jonathan Bourne Historical Center, providing me with insights and a glimpse of Rebecca’s world through the eyes of her family and her artifacts. This project would not have been successful without the help of these wonderful people. The editors at New York University Press, including Deborah Gershenowitz and Gabrielle Begue, and Despina Papazoglou Gimbel and her staff of wonderful copy editors, made me look forward to working on this project every day. Their enthusiasm helped guide me through several incarnations of the manuscript, and I am grateful for their support and careful reading of the manuscript. Working with the wonderful press staff has been extremely rewarding. Finally, I thank my family for making this book possible. In some ways this was a family project! My father, Scott Taylor, read the manuscript with a biography-lover’s eye, pointing out when I had lost key narrative elements. My aunt Kandy and my grandmother Frances (Granny) Andersen provided me with a home in East Orleans while I completed the research. And my husband, Jeff Shockley, has been a model of patience and support. I cannot tell how many times he read the manuscript—more than either of us would care to admit. He provided excellent critiques, advice, and suggestions. During the writing of this book, Jeff and I welcomed a new Cape Cod enthusiast viii

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to the family, our son Scott Andrew. I thank Scott’s wonderful caregivers for enabling me to finish this project, and I hope that Scott reads this book one day and appreciates the Cape even more than his parents do. His headfirst forays into the waves at Nauset Beach these past two summers suggest that he just might. We can certainly say that Scott’s first years make a great beginning for any “Cape Cod tale”; he was attracted to the sea before he could walk. Writing this story entailed spending many summers on Cape Cod. Through this process I have rediscovered my love of the Cape, with its beautiful vistas and fascinating history. I hope that this story will encourage readers to visit the land that Rebecca so loved.

Acknowledgments

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AT L A N T I C OCEAN PROVINCETOWN TRURO

N PLYMOUTH

WELLFLEET CAPE COD B AY EASTHAM

WAREHAM

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BOURNE

ORLEANS SANDWICH BARNSTABLE

BREWSTER

DENNIS

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YARMOUTH

CHATHAM

FALMOUTH MASHPEE BUZZARD’S BAY

VI

Y NE

D AR

SO

UN

D NANTUCKET SOUND

MARTHAS VINEYARD

NANTUCKET

Map 1. Modern map of Cape Cod. Bourne separated from Sandwich during Rebecca’s lifetime, and the canal was built in the early 20th century.

Author’s Note on the Journals

I have chosen not to edit the spelling or grammar in Rebecca’s or William’s entries. All underlining in the quoted text is Rebecca’s. Rebecca kept several journals, and all can be found at the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society or the Jonathan Bourne Historical Center. Abbreviations of the journals in the endnotes are as follows: A: Journal commenced in August 1852 B: Journal given to Hannah Rebecca Burgess, 10 November 1852 C: “Challenger” Journal D: “Challenger” Ship’s Log E: Financial Account Ledger F: Scrapbook commenced in November 1860 G: Journal commenced on 2 May 1862 H: Journal commenced on 29 November 1860

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S.E. Swift and W.R. Gibbs Rebecca Burgess’s House H. Crowell Gibbs F. Gibbs Hiram Crowell Hiram Crowell Hiram Crowell Spring Estate Cemetary H.E. Crowell Crowell W.T. Keith I.N. Keith J.H. Ellis B. Harlow H. Harlow C. Swift B.B. Abbey Keith Manufacturing Co. and Car Shop H.T. Keith Keith Manufacturing Co. School S. Gibbs Methodist Episcopal Church (

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Map 2. Rebecca’s village of West Sandwich in 1880. Credit: Atlas of Barnstable County, Massachusetts. George H. Walker & Co. (Boston, 1880). Courtersy Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society.

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Introduction

In 2007 a visitor to the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society on Cape Cod, Massachusetts, would have seen many exhibits related to the development of the glass industry and the impact it had on the town. As museum goers moved through rooms of beautiful glass bowls, tumblers, plates, and other precious objects, they would have come across an unusual cabinet. This cabinet bore the name “Hannah Rebecca Burgess” in gilt letters and contained artifacts from the woman’s life, including her wedding gown, an ivory pagoda and other curios from her trip to China, and the story of how she navigated her husband’s ship Challenger, in 1856, when William lay ill from dysentery in his stateroom. In 2010 a visitor can see an expanded version of the cabinet in the form of a reconstruction of this woman’s dining room. The new exhibit incorporates her own china with glass made by the Boston and Sandwich glass company, and features a holographic display of the woman, played by the curator, Dorothy Schofield. Why is this exhibit on display in a museum dominated by the story of the Boston and Sandwich Glass Company? Who was this woman, and why is she the only other prominent individual featured in the museum besides Deming Jarvis, the incorporator of the glass company? This book examines the life of Rebecca Burgess both as she presented it in her journals and in other personal documents, which she donated to the Sandwich Historical society, and in the journals she retained but did not explicitly donate to be kept in the public purview. Rebecca may well have been a footnote in history had it not been for the prodigious journals that she kept from the 1840s to 1878 and the way in which she presented herself and her memories to the local public. I explore the ways in which Rebecca defined herself as the captain’s wife, though she had sailed for only two years out of her eighty-three-year life. I also analyze the conditions in which Rebecca lived in to understand how Rebecca viewed the world and her role in it. As a Victorian woman of the provincial middle class in nineteenth-century Massachusetts, she experienced dramatic change in her lifetime, which |

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made her maritime legacy all the more compelling for the collective community’s heritage in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. I also define the ways in which Rebecca actively reconstructed her memories of maritime life through her work in her Sandwich village, as well as the ways in which the community embraced and helped Rebecca’s memories become a local legend. I attempt to present a picture of her village and her maritime world by piecing together contemporary sources, primarily from newspapers and census data,1 and from scholarly monographs that analyze the world in which Rebecca lived. This book essentially has two main objectives: to understand how Rebecca perceived her world and portrayed herself as an actor in it as she wrote in her journals, and to examine how Rebecca’s reproduction of memories as she reflected back on her life at sea helped her shape a legacy that would become a legend in her community.

Authenticity and the Fictive “Self ” in Autobiography Rebecca’s journals describe her experiences, her beliefs, and her relationships with others. Through the art of journal writing, Rebecca defined her core values and her identity for an audience that extended beyond herself and her family. Rebecca’s journal writing falls within the bounds of Victorian practices. Many scholars of women’s autobiography suggest that women often form their self-definitions in relation to others—family and friends— and even portray themselves more passively than men.2 Although Burgess defined her actions as those of a perfect wife and then grieving widow, frequently she used those conventions to justify her extremely independent actions. In journal entries her sense of adventure belied her image as the dependent wife, and her focus on the approximately two years she spent at sea enabled her to cast herself as the heroine of a maritime drama, creating a legacy that would be embraced by her contemporaries and by generations of Cape Codders to come. Like many other women journal writers, Rebecca assumed that she was writing for a public audience, certainly her husband and, as she mentions several times, her good friend and possibly her family.3 However, she made sure to extend that audience when she donated the journals to a public historical center. Through her journals, Rebecca identified herself as the captain’s wife and widow, and ensured that her legacy and her persona would live on in her writings. One important question addressed throughout this book involves the veracity and authenticity of self-presentation in autobiography and journal keeping.4 Can we write our own lives and, in the process, rewrite them? 2

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Burgess’s writing reveals an awareness of her audience and a self-conscious, deliberate manipulation of her image. Literary critics have long questioned the ability of autobiographers to present an objective, or even authentic, “self,” because they are essentially narrators who fashion themselves as the protagonists of stories that have a distinct objective in the telling—basically to explain issues from their own point of view. In essence, autobiographers’ personas are “fictive,” because they define themselves as individuals in a progressing narrative with a stable, and often single, persona throughout, much like a character in a novel. Many critics of autobiography and autobiographical material such as letters question whether one can even know oneself enough to write a narrative memoir. For example, Martha Hodes notes in her biography of Eunice Stone Connolly, manipulating narratives is a way to craft a life story: “The act of recounting always involves the selection of observations, the editing of emotions, even the omissions of entire experiences.”5 The autobiographical self is effectively a representation of the person the autobiographer wants readers to see—often as one persona among multiple identities or one position in a multitude of discourses that sometimes compete with one another.6 Scholars of autobiography often maintain that women’s writing is inherently gendered in a way that makes it distinctive from men’s. They posit that frequently women autobiographers ascribe to prevailing norms for women in their culture in order to justify their behavior or actions. For example, Sidonie Smith argues that the female autobiographer “enacts the roles assigned to her in the fictions of patriarchal culture.”7 Moreover, many scholars contend that women’s autobiographies focus more on the personal and less on heroic acts; more on their relationships with others than as autonomous individuals; more on their multiple identities in connections with others and less on themselves as one-dimensional actors.8 Rebecca’s journals both reflect and challenge these assumptions. Although she often defined herself as bound to her husband, her family, and her community, she usually employed that language to justify what amounted to extremely independent actions. Rebecca developed her persona through her journals, which are different from what many people today would consider private writings. Rebecca’s journals are what Lynn Bloom defines as “public diaries.” Scholars note that many women wrote public diaries in the nineteenth century. These are distinguished from private diaries by their broad form, flashbacks or foreshadows, and theme repetition. These are all stylistic literary devices, and the women who employed them were creating self-contained narratives in which they themselves were the central character. The women who created Introduction

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public diaries transcended family history by leaving both historic and literary legacies.9 In her extensive study of six women’s diaries, Amy Wink concludes that in writing their stories these women declared to future readers that they were important. They constructed their own identities through their works, and they defined their audience as they created themselves for their readers.10 Rebecca used her journals to fashion a persona, create a legacy, and situate herself in the world around her, even as the cultural context of her world changed. No matter the subject, Rebecca exhibited great familiarity and ease in employing certain cultural norms in her writing. Several critics of autobiography assert that all writers must situate themselves within certain cultural standards, whether they defy them or adhere to them. This is essential to the writing process, these critics argue, because individuals construct their identities based on the assumptions and values of the dominant culture in their society. In essence, autobiographers use or challenge the “models of identity” available to them in that “particular historical moment.”11 To understand how Rebecca defined herself, we have to understand the prevailing societal norms of the white middle class in nineteenth-century New England.

The Cult of True Womanhood The existence of the “cult of true womanhood” and its ramifications for women in the nineteenth century has been debated by women’s historians for three decades, almost since the definition of the term by Barbara Welter in the 1960s. According to some scholars, the “cult of true womanhood” emerged in antebellum America just as middle-class men began to move from farms to take jobs working for others and as families started to move from their villages to places as near as a large local industrial region or as far as the West Coast looking for economic opportunity. As defined by these historians, this Victorian ideology deemed the ideal woman to be submissive, subsuming her will and beliefs to her husband’s, and existing solely to sacrifice her own needs for the good of her family. In prevailing Victorian literature and advice books aimed at a white, middle-class, and largely urban female readership, these “angels of the home” represented the domestic, or private, realm in a “separation of spheres” that reflected women’s unsuitability for “public life,” whether in the form of working or voting. Prescriptive literature often pointed to women’s “inherent” gentleness, physical weakness but moral strength, religious faith, and proclivities toward the home, family, and children. This literature depicted this gendered ideal of white middle4

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class womanhood, a model of passivity, self-sacrifice, and motherly love, which historians define as the “cult of true womanhood.” The woman’s role was to maintain a peaceful, moral home as a refuge for her husband who had to go out into the corruptible world of the free market and the political landscape.12 While many women’s historians have convincingly disproved the physical existence of “separate spheres,” public and private spaces inhabited by men and women respectively and exclusively, this does not mean that Victorian society held no gender conventions. These scholars attest to the disjuncture between reality and prescriptive literature found in women’s magazines and nonfiction reading that created false dichotomies between the public and private worlds. In reality, however, middle-class women were neither inclined nor able to shut out the world and inhabit only the small domestic realm. In fact, many women used society’s assumption of their superior morality and virtue to claim space in reform movements, such as temperance and abolitionism.13 Whether one believes in the existence of separate spheres or the cult of true womanhood in Victorian America, Rebecca’s journals attest to her understanding of the concept. In her donated materials, she presented an orchestrated autobiography of a genteel lady, but she left the door ajar to explore her own contradictions of those values. Her written narrative reveals daring choices and extremely independent behavior, but she usually described her actions as entirely consistent with the ideals of the age and focused on her devotion to her husband and family, her duties as a wife and widow to her home and community.14 For example, in order to maintain balance between the construction of Victorian women as passive and domestic, Rebecca justified her love of the sea by defining it within the parameters of a wife’s duties to her husband: “I know that I love the Sea, but more I love to be with my husband. . . . I enjoy going to sea, because I am with my husband. With him any place is home.” This reflects the sentiments of many captains’ wives who chose to go out to sea.15 Rebecca never explained the details behind her short career as a navigator, but even that surprising act can be defined as “wifely duty” to her dying husband. Even in widowhood, Rebecca chose to define herself as the perfect nineteenth-century lady, joining other Victorian women who “raised mourning to an elaborately practiced art form,”16 and choosing community service over remarriage. However, at the same time she perpetuated this image, Rebecca became a businesswoman, investing in stocks, maintaining a diversified financial portfolio, and living off the income of loans she made with her inheritance. Rebecca defined herself as a Introduction

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Victorian woman by remaining closely tied to her husband and by embracing the ideals of domesticity in her journals, even when her actions remained far outside the norm of Victorian womanhood. In this way Rebecca was not unlike many other middle-class women who “crossed boundaries” in the nineteenth century. Her embrace of dominant middle-class values mirrors the behavior of women who traveled to foreign lands as visitors, captains’ or pioneers’ wives, or missionaries. As they moved well beyond the actions of a woman who embraced the cult of domesticity, they used those values to define themselves as ladies, with strong principles that kept them anchored in a familiar theoretical model of womanhood.17 Rebecca used Victorian values as one method to create an unchanging picture of herself. By engaging with the journals Rebecca donated and her other historical writings, I explore the ways in which Rebecca both identified with and contrasted herself against prevailing white, middle-class cultural norms. I also try to discern her motivations behind her identification with the cultural norms of the time.

Exploring Memory: Personal and Communal After Rebecca returned home from the sea, she began to recount her maritime tales to the local community and record them in her journals. At this point she often kept her memories of events in a journal that she began while at sea and wrote of her daily activities in a separate journal. By writing down and telling her stories, Rebecca was actively re-creating memories of her life aboard her husband’s ships. In the telling Rebecca displayed her concern for creating a legacy, and her interest in having her story remembered as a maritime drama. Critics of autobiography argue that people do not remember fixed events of the past as much as they re-represent them, assigning them meaning in a way that helps them understand their current context.18 Memory is a function of what James Olney calls external experiences and internal imaginations, and people can alter, invent, and imagine events of their pasts. Remembering past events involves what Sidonie Smith and Julia Watson call “a reinterpretation of the past in the present” and is often conditioned by political contexts.19 Rebecca used her writing as a way not only to construct and reconstruct her own recollections but also, by donating them to the historical society, to transfer those memories to other generations. As historian Robert McGlone suggests, memories must be processed for years to achieve permanence, and Rebecca did this through her writing. McGlone also explains that memo6

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ries of experience are reassembled, rather than re-experienced. People use schemas to assist them in recalling events and experiences, finding patterns in everyday events. In fact, these schemas develop into scripts that provide frameworks for remembering important routines and events, particularly highly emotional events. As he notes, people turn their experiences into stories that they use to create structure and to understand meaning. They incorporate their stories into “higher-level schemas,” which are themes that address different periods in life. This is called “autobiographical memory,” which helps people define themselves.20 It is important to understand why someone remembers certain events and forgets others, why events are remembered in particular ways, and why memories change over time.21 Memory, in effect, is not about how the past is represented but rather why people accept or reject representations of the past. The way in which people remember the past is itself a political act, as individual narratives become part of the collective and communal memory of places or events.22 Rebecca spent sixty years of her life recounting numerous memories of her time at sea but, in particular, one story in which she allegedly displayed a tremendous amount of heroism by nursing her husband through his debilitating illness and saving his ship with her navigational skills. Most important in this story is not whether the event occurred or how it happened, but how Rebecca told and altered the story over the next sixty years, continually adding to and reconstructing the memory, until she finally recounted the tale from start to finish in two accounts she dictated in her last year of life. In the second half of this book I attempt to analyze and explore the reasons behind Rebecca’s repeated recollection of these stories, and what this continuous remembrance and recounting means to her legacy. Rebecca’s story, however, could only become legend with the collusion of the community; otherwise, it would have died with her, as she had no direct heirs, only a sister who lived in California and one brother left in the village. Historians of memory argue that society can take up individual memories and stories and preserve them collectively for many reasons. Rebecca represented herself as a maritime heroine, defined by a two-week experience in her eight decades of life, and the community continues to perpetuate that legacy in museum exhibits and community lore. The community, essentially, reified Rebecca’s legacy through continuous performance of tales, images, and rituals, which many historians claim are necessary for the perpetuation of memory.23 Rebecca’s individual story became part of the history of Cape Cod; her maritime experience lived on as part of the broader social and cultural collective history.24 Introduction

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These theories explain how societies preserve memory, but they do not suggest why Sandwich residents would have chosen to embrace Rebecca as an important part of their legacy. Some historians suggest that many communities use memory and reflections on the past as a way to resist rapid change within a society. Often these visions of the past reflect a common heritage, whether based on racial, class, or regional ties. They also call up a past that is unsullied by strife or corruption.25 Sandwich experienced rapid economic, social, and political change. In the nineteenth century Sandwich moved from an agrarian / maritime economy to one dominated by the industrialized glass factory. With industrialization came Irish immigrants, who fundamentally changed the face of the community. After the Civil War, the maritime industry continued to decline, and the glass industry also faltered. The 1880s saw the rise of a railcar manufactory right down the street from Rebecca’s home. This heavy industry employed hundreds of Italian immigrants in the early twentieth century. Sandwich experienced political change, too, as the town of Bourne, which included Rebecca’s village, broke away in the early 1880s. Rebecca stood as a symbol of maritime heritage. She defined herself as the captain’s widow, and the community accepted her legacy and perpetuated it through newspaper articles about her, oral histories, and physical museum exhibits that continue to this day. Historians have also memorialized Rebecca’s actions, as no fewer than ten have featured her story in their works on the American maritime world or on local Sandwich history.26 Although I focus on Rebecca’s stories and perceptions of society in the text, I also interweave the history of Sandwich and West Sandwich in order to locate Rebecca in a specific local historical context and to explain why the town readily embraced her memories. Rebecca Burgess grew up in a town buffeted by change. She fashioned herself as a legend by being a symbol of continuity, a woman who embraced typical nineteenth-century values of gentility, philanthropy, and religiosity, and through her focus on her maritime activities in which she engaged from 1854 to 1856. She negotiated successfully between her often unconventional life and the contradictory definitions of Victorian womanhood, and ultimately by publicly telling the story of her adventures on the sea to a community needing to hold onto the heritage it was losing; and, by donating artifacts to the local museum, she reinforced her identity as the genteel captain’s widow. Rebecca’s life became a legend because, as the community changed, she provided a living link to the maritime past. She succeeded in becoming part of the community’s collective memory as her story became formalized in museums and history books, and as her story continues to intrigue historians and Cape Cod enthusiasts today. 8

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A Note on Sources and Methodology Writing this book has been a challenge. Although I have the benefit of Rebecca’s extensive journal entries and recollections, I have nothing written by her from her childhood or from the three decades before her death. I do not know if she stopped recording in journals or if she failed or refused to retain those materials. I could not find material written by Rebecca’s friends or family, with the exception of the notes her husband, William, wrote in her journal and one of his letters that she placed at the front of one of her journals. Character sketches of William are colored by her perception of him. What we know of her family’s values reflect her point of view alone. In an effort to provide a clearer picture of Rebecca’s world I have used whatever primary sources I could find as well as the prodigious secondary source literature on Massachusetts and the maritime world in the nineteenth century. The focus of the book, however, remains on her perceptions, necessitated by the available source base. This book has been challenging for another reason: I do not know whether to believe the story of heroism that has made Rebecca legendary. No one has ever questioned the veracity of her tale, but there is no evidence besides her own stories to corroborate her actions, and there is counterevidence to refute her claims that she single-handedly saved the Challenger at a time of great peril to captain, crew, and cargo. I will let the reader decide if her story rings true. However, I do not pretend to be objective—I would have liked Rebecca, and I find her an interesting and admirable character deserving of a book-length study. No matter what she truly did in her lifetime, she exhibited independence and a resilience of spirit that I find extremely remarkable. I use lengthy quotes in each chapter, and, in deference to Laurel Thatcher Ulrich’s excellent study of another resilient New England woman from the colonial era, I begin each chapter with lines from Rebecca’s journals.27 By doing so I hope readers can get a better impression of who Rebecca was—or who she wanted us to believe she was. In the end we will never really know the “real” Rebecca Burgess, because we only have her version of events, her stories, and her musings on society. Getting at the “truthfulness” of her image and her stories, however, is not the aim of this book. Instead, I hope that the book suggests answers to the questions of how and why a woman raised in the strict guidelines of the “Cult of True Womanhood” positioned herself as a maritime heroine and why the community perpetuated that legend. In understanding Rebecca’s story, we can better comprehend how people fashion legacies, present public personas, and try to claim their own “places” in history. Introduction

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1 Rebecca’s World Developing Character

Flowers in Frolic, Selections motto for an album 1 Here friendship’s galaxy shall shine, In tender, pure, unclouded light: A ray each thought, a star each line, Forever fixed, forever bright. to rebecca We do not know how much we love, Until we come to leave, An aged tree, a common flower Are things o’er which we grieve; There is a pleasure in the pain That brings us back the past again. We linger while we turn away, We cling while we depart; And memories unmarked feed thee till then, Come crowding around the heart. Let what will here our onward way; Farewell’s a bitter word to say. Wm. H. Burgess, North Sandwich, March 4, AD 1850 Woman commands with a mild control, She rules by enchantment the realm of the soul; As she glances around in the light of her smile, The war of the passions is hushed for awhile; And Discord, content from his fury to cease, Reposes on the pillow of peace.

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The book is a small, red leather autograph journal, with the title Flowers in Frolic written in gold on the cover. Pages of dedications from friends and family members are interspersed with colored prints of anthropomorphized flowers, given female forms, costumes, and personalities based on each flower’s representation of a virtue or vice. At various points, Rebecca added real flowers to the pages, which remain pressed in them today. The book could have been held in Rebecca’s hand and taken to school, church, and on visits to neighbors. Rebecca’s uncle Calvin Crowell, ten years her senior, gave her the book in 1848 and inscribed the first page with his autograph, possibly before he moved to California as a remembrance of him, or for a birthday gift. It’s just an autograph book, like the thousands of others kept by schoolgirls as a memento of their youth. It was meant to capture the friendships and attachments Rebecca had formed in her teen years. Historian Anya Jabour suggests that autograph albums were the “nineteenth-century equivalent of modern yearbooks,”2 and, indeed, Rebecca’s includes many of her schoolmates and teachers. Similar to other autograph books in the nineteenth century, it is filled with sentimental odes to friendship.3 Like the autograph book, Rebecca’s town was, simply put, not exactly out of the ordinary. When Henry David Thoreau visited Cape Cod in 1849, he was thoroughly unimpressed with the town of Sandwich. He described a village densely populated with comfortably furnished houses located on narrow streets that seemed to go in circles. He concluded: “they were, after all, very much like the rest of the world.”4 Although Thoreau’s statement was meant as an indictment of Sandwich compared to the natural beauty and less polished people of the lower and outer Cape, his description rang true. Rebecca Crowell’s town had more in common with Lynn, Oxford, and New Bedford than it did with Orleans or Provincetown or other towns in the “backwater” of Cape Cod. Like other East Coast towns in Massachusetts, Sandwich experienced tremendous change in the nineteenth century, altering the lives of its residents, including Rebecca’s family, and creating a hybrid industrial / agricultural economy from which Rebecca’s family benefited. This plain autograph book was the property of Rebecca Crowell, a typical girl growing up in a typical eastern Massachusetts town. Why would Rebecca donate this book to the archives, a book that is essentially an album of sayings she recorded and poems from her friends and family? What did she want us to know about her youth that formed what she believed to be a critical part of her identity? It is notable that Rebecca kept this book for decades, rereading it and sometimes commenting in it, as she did when she wrote margin 12

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comments explaining who the authors of several notes were, It is also the first evidence we have of a courtship between Rebecca and William, perhaps started when she was only sixteen years old. Using this book, supported with other evidence about her world in West Sandwich, we can gather that Rebecca donated this album to establish an identity based on a proper Victorian upbringing. Entries show that Rebecca claimed certain Victorian prescriptive values as her own, to reflect her position in society. Her friends wrote about religion, virtue, the beauty of values such as kindness and loyalty trumping “natural” beauty, and the importance of the afterlife. The entries also showed the importance for Rebecca to be surrounded by family and friends who meant a lot to her. This book establishes Rebecca’s world for the reader of her journals: it reveals her gentility with references to religious and ethical tropes in the writing; it introduces her community as a network of friends and relations who cared about her; it reflects her connection with William two years before they married; and it also shows that Rebecca was no stranger to loss at an early age. Evidence that can contextualize this autograph album positions Rebecca as a middleclass woman of moderate privilege, a woman whose community was intrinsically important to her identity and a community whose character was not changing, despite the economic transition of Massachusetts from a rural to an industrial economy.

Family Hannah Rebecca Crowell, nicknamed Rebecca, was born to Paul Crowell Jr. and Lydia Crowell on 4 July 1834. She was the first of six children to be born to this prolific family. The Crowell’s large family ensured that Rebecca would be surrounded by kin in her small village of West Sandwich. Paul Crowell Sr. had moved to the village from Dennis, Cape Cod, in 1815. He and his wife populated the village with eight sons and seven daughters, although he ultimately lost four sons to the sea; Edmund and William, aged twenty-two and sixteen, respectively, in June 1825; and Nathan and Prince, aged twenty-five and twenty-seven, respectively, in March 1840.5 Rebecca’s family was not only large, but it also was tightly-knit. Her autograph album bears many family names; Mercy Ellis, an aunt; Emily Howes, a cousin; Hepsah Harlow, another cousin; Calvin Crowell, an uncle who gave her the diary; Lewis Howes, her uncle; and other relatives recorded verses in this album. An 1880 map of West Sandwich (see Map 2) reflects the fact that not only was the family close in spirit, but they also resided very near one Rebecca’s World

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another, which would have made Rebecca’s youth one constantly filled with family gatherings, whether informal or more organized. Six Crowell families and the Harlows lived within three blocks of one another in this village, and two Ellis families lived among them. Three more Ellis families lived less than a mile away in the village of North Sandwich, where Rebecca attended school and church.6 It is unclear where Paul and Rebecca’s mother, Lydia, met, but Rebecca reported to the Sandwich Historical Society that they married in Plymouth in 1833. Lydia was the daughter of Thomas and Rebecca Burgess Ellis, and it is possible that they met at a Burgess homestead in North Sandwich, three of which still existed in 1880.7 Throughout her life, Rebecca would visit her extended Ellis family in Plymouth and record her experiences in her diaries. Rebecca grew up directly in the midst of this family; her father and mother lived with her grandparents when Rebecca was born and until they purchased their house on the main street of the village, Old King’s Highway. Although there is no formal record of Paul Crowell Jr.’s maritime experience, Rebecca claimed that Paul Crowell was a sea captain who worked in the Mediterranean Sea; at some point he must have made enough money to establish a mercantile business.8 In this album donated by Rebecca, the reader can see the connections of family—of twenty-eight entries, fourteen are written by cousins, aunts, uncles, and other relations with the surnames Burgess, Howes, and Ellis. Two passages are unsigned, most likely recorded by Rebecca, two are anonymous or have only initials as signatures, and the rest are from schoolteachers and friends like Sarah Swift, who would continue to appear in Rebecca’s journals later in Rebecca’s life. Rebecca lived within a mile of most of these relations, and a short train ride from the Plymouth Ellises. In a way, Rebecca’s neighborhood connections reflect a typical youth. Entries in this book suggest that Rebecca socialized with other young people, at church, at school, and on visits to one another’s homes. The diverse autographs and verses penned by friends and relatives speak to the way in which Rebecca, like other young middling women in nineteenth-century Massachusetts, participated in a social whirl that connected and reinforced community bonds. Similar to other antebellum New England villages, Rebecca had outlets where she could meet other young men and women. This autograph book suggests that not only were values of gentility, virtue, and Christianity important to Rebecca but also that friendship was a central feature in her life, one that undergirded her community support network. As historian Karen Hansen notes, friendship was the “linchpin of the culture of mutuality, 14

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neighborliness, and reciprocity within the social sphere”9 in antebellum New England. That this network played a significant role in her life is reinforced by her donation of the journal, as well as the fact that she moved back to her parents’ home after her years on the ocean, remaining there until her death.

Tradition in the Face of Transition Rebecca’s family and friends were important to her as a network of support, as she would later write in her journals, but they were also important for how she identified herself and her social status. While the greater town center which abutted North and West Sandwich changed dramatically, her family and her village retained the traditions of working the farm and the sea. This simple fact would enable Rebecca to later claim her legacy as the captain’s widow, as she stood as a symbol of what the village was fast losing. Although historians disagree over whether the sweeping changes to nineteenth-century Massachusetts were social or economic in their origins, all maintain that by the eve of the Civil War, the state looked far different from the colony that led the revolutionary charge. New England went from being the poorest region prior to the Revolution to having an income 30 percent higher than the South by 1840. The emergence of a new market economy dominated by cash payments fundamentally altered the agricultural structure of Massachusetts, and a new manufacturing-driven sector brought workers to town centers from surrounding family farms and from across the ocean, changing Massachusetts society forever.10 Many scholars argue that these changes created a new middle class. Members of this class turned to the tenets of republicanism, the separation of men and women into public and private spheres, and evangelical religion and reform efforts in order to understand and attempt to maintain control in this new world. Other historians focus on the formation of an industrialized working class that emerged harboring its own ideologies of republicanism, equal and fair treatment, and fair wages and hours on the factory floor. While many people in Massachusetts towns entered new professions, moved to cities, and worked in new industry, the agricultural sector of the economy continued to thrive. Although the agricultural sector failed to see the massive economic gains evinced by new industries, it remained fairly stable in the early nineteenth century. In fact, most people in Massachusetts lived in small towns, and they held onto rural traditions of sociability and kin network support. In addition, the growth of a wide local market network helped create a provincial middle class. Like most of Massachusetts, Sandwich saw Rebecca’s World

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sweeping industrial and market changes. Rebecca lived in a part of the town not yet touched by massive industrialization, but she and her family could clearly see the changes occurring in the town center of Sandwich.11 Sandwich was not unique in the landscape of Massachusetts towns. In fact, it shared more in common with towns on the mainland than its counterparts on the Cape Cod peninsula. It saw the continuation of its traditional agrarian and maritime industries, and it experienced the growth of an industry that ultimately dominated the geography of the downtown area in contrast to the more rural and maritime villages of West, North, and South Sandwich (now known as Bourndale, Bourne, Sagamore, and Pocasset).12 The town’s social, economic, and geographic structures changed drastically when Deming Jarves opened up his glass factory in 1825. Jarves built his factory in Sandwich not because of the sand on the Cape but because of the abundant timber in the area, which provided the fuel for his furnaces.13 Jarves’s factory fundamentally altered the town’s landscape. In the space of thirty years the number of farmers declined dramatically, the number of mariners fell off, and the number of both skilled and unskilled laborers rose astronomically. Sandwich moved from a fairly homogeneous town dominated by farming to a town in which almost one in eight residents were from England or Ireland, and most workers were unskilled. While the proportion of immigrants was lower than that of other industrialized towns in Massachusetts, the increase in a small town like Sandwich must have been dramatic to native-born residents. And although immigrants tended to fill the low-paying labor jobs, the census report shows that the glass factory also employed native-born men, particularly in the skilled labor categories. This suggests a trend similar to other Massachusetts towns in which sons and daughters of farmers migrated to factories as land became scarce.14 The geography of the town changed along with the economy. Whereas mariners and farmers lived mainly in villages west, south, and north of the town center, most of the glass factory workers (particularly the Irish immigrants) lived in a village literally “across the tracks” from the town center. This segregation mirrored the trends found in other neighborhoods across Massachusetts, reflecting the prejudice many native-born Americans harbored against the Irish immigrants who arrived in the 1840s and 1850s. Jarvesville, as Sandwich residents called it, had its own store, school, and Catholic Church. Residence in Jarvesville clearly marked these workers as different from the native-born residents.15 Rebecca lived about three-quarters of a mile from the town center of Sandwich, on the street that served as the dividing line between the immi16

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grants and the native-born residents. However, her family and her village could not have been more different. The maritime and agricultural traditions were extremely strong in the village,16 and her family represented those traditions well, with five Crowell sons engaged in the maritime trade and the remainder working mainly in agriculture. The village of West Sandwich was located about a mile from the town center, but its occupational diversity and social homogeneity contrasted with the areas surrounding the glass factory. The census pages located around the Crowell family list a remarkable number of occupations, but shows that the change industrialization caused did not elude the village. Twenty-three sailors, 18 farmers, and 39 laborers made their homes in the neighborhoods surrounding the Crowells. In addition, four butchers, five blacksmiths, two shoemakers, and two wheelwrights lived nearby. The laborers may well have worked for either the ship-building industry or Isaac Keith’s growing car works factory, which made freight cars for the Cape Cod Railroad and other rail lines. Only two skilled glass workers lived in the area in and around the village of West Sandwich. Moreover, of the thirty-five families that reported West Sandwich real estate holdings, fifteen were farmers and seven were sailors. These statistics reveal the picture of a wealthy class of families anchored by the traditional industries of the area, but surrounded by change. The census reveals that sons of farmers became laborers and new families tied to new industries moved in. Other wealthy landowners’ occupations suggest the variety of middle-class pursuits in provincial areas, a trait that historian Catherine Kelly has discovered. West Sandwich’s middle class included four laborers, one peddler, one glass blower, one wheelwright, one watchman, one blacksmith, and one merchant (Paul Crowell Jr.). The remaining families listed either no occupation (retired, given the ages of the respondents) or were women, most likely widows. The wealthiest men in the area, however, were farmers, whose average holdings ranged from $1,500 to $5,000, with most farmers averaging about $3,000. This agrarian wealth suggests that West Sandwich was neither economically tied to the new glass industry, nor did it necessarily need the glass industry for survival. Still, as in other areas of Sandwich, the traditional agrarian and maritime trades experienced decline as the number of laborers rose. The area may have been economically diverse, but the effects of industrialization were clear to residents of the village.17 The neighborhoods in and around West Sandwich may have reflected job diversity, but its ethnic makeup showed that immigration had very little Rebecca’s World

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effect on the immediate area. Of the 380 people living near Rebecca Crowell, 8 were from Ireland and 1 from England. Two were wives of native-born Americans, and the rest were listed as laborers or women living in the houses of native-born Americans. The women ranged in age from twelve to thirty, and labored as servants in the houses of wealthy landowners. The immigration that swept the town center of Sandwich had little effect on the village located less than a mile away, other than to provide cheap labor for some of the families. Although the village of West Sandwich was attached by Old King’s Highway (now Route 6A) directly to the town center, its society looked far different from the neighboring town center. Rebecca’s immediate family had clearly prospered by engaging in the more traditional occupations of West Sandwich. Paul Crowell Jr. quickly established his place among the provincial middle class as a merchant who held farmable land, which was common among village merchants and artisans in the nineteenth century. Tax valuations suggest that Paul Crowell Jr. worked hard to support his growing family. In 1834 he bought a house, a barn, and ten acres of land. He also invested in ten tons of a vessel, diversifying his financial holdings by earning money from the sale of goods transported in that vessel. At the time of Rebecca’s birth, her father was worth $1,200. By 1840 Paul Crowell Jr. had increased his land holdings to wooded and cleared acreage and owned a store, and his property valuation was $2,800. Paul increased his land holdings to include twenty more acres of woodland and, in 1850, tax valuations listed his worth at $3,350, a value of more than $70,000 in 2008. Although this amount would not have placed the Crowell family among even the modest property owners of Boston, who averaged between $5,000 and $7,000, it solidified his standing in his surrounding community. In the pages surrounding the Crowell family in the 1850 Census, of seventy-four families surveyed, only thirty-five listed holding any taxable real estate and the average holding was $2,288.18 A visitor to West Sandwich would definitely have noted the occupational and ethnic differences between the little village and the industrialized town. West Sandwich benefited from the rail line set up mainly for the glass industry, gained cheap domestic laborers for its homes, and found local markets for its goods. Still, it looked far different from the glass-dominated, ethnically diverse downtown area. As the only merchant in the area, Paul Crowell Jr. grew wealthy and prominent, as evinced by his election as “school agent” overseeing the elementary school in his district in 1848.19 By combining the traditional maritime and agricultural traditions of his family with a new commercial venture, he and his family prospered.20 18

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The Crowell family was representative of West Sandwich, which seemed worlds away from the short distance to the town center. Rebecca did not note the changes taking place in her larger community. Her autograph book reflects her geographic location away from the town center. Entries generally list West and North Sandwich as the writers’ location, and all the names in the log (Swift, Spring, Howes, Burgesses of North Sandwich, Ellis, and Crowell) had little to do with the families or the business in the center of town.21 Rebecca’s orientation was extremely localized to her own village and one mile up the road to North Sandwich, where her church and her school were located. Rather than being dominated by the sounds, smells, and sights of the growing glass factory, peopled by immigrants who lived in a neighborhood segregated from the residents of the town center, Rebecca had a more rural, and decidedly more diverse, although less industrial, experience in her village. She would have encountered the farmers who came to her father’s store to trade their goods and purchase items. She would have seen the Swifts driving their pigs to market. She would also have been familiar with the maritime orientation of her little village. One small business that benefited from the maritime boom was the Burgess & Ellis firm, which built vessels in Sandwich through 1864. These vessels were small, built for the packet and fishing industries. Burgess & Ellis built the largest of their ships in Sagamore Hill, in 1844, near Rebecca’s neighborhood. It topped out at four hundred tons, a far cry from the trans-global vessels whose tonnage could top out at well over a thousand. Most of those captains and mariners involved in the global maritime trade hailed from Rebecca’s village, and from other villages outside the Sandwich town center, including North Sandwich, Monument, and Pocasset. She also was not isolated from the greater world, once the Cape Cod Railroad came to her village in 1848. She could have walked to the train stop, and travel to Boston would occupy just a portion of a day.22 And she would have worshiped with many of the families who plied these trades at the North Sandwich Methodist Episcopal Church, which today bears the name Swift Memorial M. E. Church. Is it possible that Rebecca was attempting to re-create her world and establish the continuity of agricultural and maritime cultures in her life by reviewing and commenting in the autograph book from her youth? Was it because Rebecca was doing what many other women autobiographers do— identifying themselves primarily within their relations to others? I believe she was self-consciously setting the scene of her youth and later years, centered in a network of kin who represented a way of life that was slowly losing its dominance in the region. Rebecca’s World

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Victorian Values Part of a middle-class girl’s upbringing in the nineteenth century involved her instruction in the values of the cult of true womanhood, which included focusing on religious education, literacy, domestic skills, and polite manners. Rebecca’s autograph book attests to the ways in which kin and community colluded to instill these values, and Rebecca’s interest in preserving the book suggests that she believed these ideals to be important signifiers of her identity. As scholar Gillian Brown notes, “Domestic femininity served as a fluctuating society’s imagination of itself, its ideal of value and inviolability.”23 Given the economic shifts and reverses that took place in her larger community in the first part of the nineteenth century and the changes to her village in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, it makes sense that Rebecca could have been using the precepts written in her album to portray an unchanging persona of a woman who embraced religion and gentility. The poems and dedications in her autograph book suggest that Rebecca was firmly ensconced in the prescriptive “true womanhood” ideology, which suggested that a woman’s greatest power lay in her superior morality. Her role as a Victorian woman was to promote faith in her family and community. She should also remain true and constant to her friends, and be a bedrock of virtue upon which she could start her own family. Entries written from 1848 to 1852 locate her within an extensive social network that supported her religious journey toward virtue, focused on her relationships with others. For example, an undated and unsigned entry, which I believe is in Rebecca’s own hand, reads: “Woman commands with a mild control, / She rules by enchantment the realm of the soul; / As she glances around in the light of her smile, / The war of the passions is hushed for a while; / And Discord, content from his fury to cease, / Reposes entranced on the pillow of Peace.” If Rebecca had not embraced the cult of true womanhood, she at least was ascribing to it definitions that privileged a woman’s emotional strength and ability to control a situation with her calm and gentle demeanor. Religion was also an important part of Rebecca’s world, as is illustrated in this autograph book. One entry, written by sixteen-year-old Hannah Ellis, a merchant’s daughter and cousin, focused on Rebecca’s relationship with God and with her friends: “Faith, friendship, love surround thee.” In a May 1851 acrostic, the unmarried schoolteacher Emily Spring attested to Rebecca’s strong Methodist faith: “As thou, dear Rebecca, thy heart to God hast given, / Hast sought, and found, that priceless pearl of love; / Retain

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it, as the precious boon of Heaven-- / Each day, through life, its value thou wilt prove.” Rebecca’s cousin Hepsah Harlow wrote that same month: “Let not thy heart seek earthly joys, I tell thee friend these joys are vain.” Instead, Hepsah encouraged Rebecca to seek joy in God and friendships.24 By this time Rebecca had probably experienced her “conversion” to the Methodist Church, based on the entries in her autograph album. Given that religiosity was a sign of middle-class women’s gentility and that the church remained a sustaining institution for her throughout her long life, it is entirely possible that Rebecca meant for a reader of these entries to recognize her early focus on Christianity. The generally strong, if florid, writing in the book also suggests that Rebecca, her family, and her friends had a decent education, another signifier of her elite status. In the nineteenth century the emergence of a strong public system enabled boys and girls in Massachusetts to gain a free education. Under the capable leadership of Horace Mann, noted newspaper editor and social reformer, the state established a Board of Education. In 1838 the board created official school standards to which towns aspired. At this point, local town school committees attempted to implement the statewide standards in local schools.25 The enforcement of these standards, however, could be spotty. Rebecca went to South Scusset School, a village school that provided a oneroom-schoolhouse experience. On April Fool’s Day in 1854, she reminisced about her school days: “I often thought during this day of the interest I took in childhood’s happy days. How pleased we were if by any cunning or artifice, we played the fools on our companions.” Rebecca valued her childhood upbringing, but her school was plagued by problems. When she was thirteen, a three-week epidemic shut down the school, and the school committee reported that grammar and arithmetic skills needed polishing. One year later, in 1848, Paul Crowell Jr. was elected school agent for the district. That year the school committee reported that “it would be well for the inhabitants of this District to prolong their winter’s school by a voluntary contribution, in order that the youth may not lose the habits of study. . . . Were this to be done, the school would take as forward a position as some others.” More than fifty students attended the school, which the committee often criticized for its failure to set up an environment conducive to learning. In 1849 the committee reported that “the progress of this school was fair; yet there was a want of fixedness of attention to the study in review.” One year later, which was probably Rebecca’s last year of school, the committee produced a scathing report of the environment:

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The teacher of this school, Mr. Charles Upham, labored under disadvantages that can be removed only by the prompt action of the people of the District. . . . It may be stated here, that the school-room is most uncomfortable and inconvenient, as to the arrangement of the seats and desks. The teacher and his pupils are never cheered by the friendly visits of those who ought to feel, warmly, interested in the school’s welfare.

The report went on to critique the school’s “uninviting appearance,” “currents of air” that made it challenging to keep a book open, and the impossibility of using the blackboard because of its position in the room. The committee concluded: “The school, as a whole, is backward in scholastic acquirements, considering the ages of its members.” This tremendously negative report caused a student to rebut the claims in a subsequent editorial, claiming that the students would have been happy to recite what they had learned, but that the school committee had failed to ask the students what they wanted to know.26 Rebecca Crowell showed a love of learning and the effects of a good education gleaned from some source throughout her life. Given the tremendous conflict in her school, it is interesting that she remembered her days there so fondly. Rebecca was obviously highly motivated and intelligent, to which her writings in her 1852–1870s journals attest. Like many other Victorian women, she probably learned much on her own by reading books and magazines. Although she never wrote down her reading choices, she made her dislike of novels apparent in her late teens. Most likely she read prescriptive and religious literature.27 A young woman’s education did not just develop through the formal school system, and Rebecca’s book shows that she and her peers were well educated, even if they were primarily self-taught.

Morbidity: Foreshadowing? Many of the entries in Rebecca’s autograph book deal with mortality, some more explicitly than others, as her cousin Emily Howes’s poem about Rebecca’s deceased siblings reflects. There are several reasons for its pervasiveness in her book. First, death was all around Massachusetts villagers in the nineteenth century, and Rebecca was no stranger to family members dying at a young age. In addition to experiencing the at-sea deaths of four uncles, Rebecca had to face the loss of siblings. Rebecca’s brother Nathan, born in 1842, died before his first birthday. Her sister Emily, born in 1846, died when she was three 22

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years old. So death hit Rebecca’s family frequently and often, as Rebecca was only nine when her brother passed away. This high rate of infant / child mortality in Rebecca’s family is not surprising. Around 5 percent of children died before the age of five, and 13 percent died before the age of one in the 1850s and 1860s in Massachusetts. Given that the mortality rate remained fairly stable in antebellum Massachusetts, this statistic likely represents the mortality of the 1830s.28 Considering the mortality rate, and that people died at home surrounded by friends and family, as Gary Laderman argues, “denying or avoiding the certainty of death, on either a personal or societal level, was an unlikely response in this time and place.”29 Rebecca’s personal experiences may have driven her to embrace what was known as “consolation” or “mourning” literature in the nineteenth century. Victorians placed much emphasis on the afterlife, partly because they strongly believed that the dead were connected to the living and continued to influence those they left behind. Literature focused on this tie, and the tropes repeated in this cultural form can be seen in Rebecca’s autograph book. Many entries mention the joys of the afterlife. Walter Badger wrote: “I wish for thee, when life is o’er, / A home where angels live.” Uncle Lewis Howes penned: “A Chart that guides life’s mariners / With earthly toils oppressed, / Into the front that blissful front / Of Heaven’s eternal rest. / Green wave the boughs of friendship o’er / Your pathway to the tomb, / E’er fresh and fragrant till they spring / In never-fading bloom.” While these meditations on death may appear morbid to twenty-first-century readers, especially when the recipient of the poems was in her mid-teens, it reflects the Victorian understanding that the bonds of love were much stronger than earthbound ties. Rebecca would continue to practice her faith and believe strongly that she would reunite with her loved ones in Heaven. In fact, her faith in reunions with family would sustain her through her most trying and desperate years to come, and would help her to identify with those she lost.30 It also added another dimension to her persona as a religious woman who was extremely dedicated to her husband and her family.

Introducing William Burgess Rebecca may also have donated this book because it is the first place in which her husband, William, appears. The facts about William and Rebecca’s courtship and marriage suggest that theirs was a typical Victorian romance and partnership. In 1849 Rebecca traveled to visit her great-uncle Benjamin Burgess in Boston. Burgess was a prosperous merchant with a large wareRebecca’s World

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house on India Wharf and a home in Louisburg Square. Burgess hailed from West Sandwich and retained a summer home there. On this trip to Boston, Rebecca first met William Burgess, a twenty-year-old mariner who had already become a first mate. William was a native of Brewster whose parents had moved to Boston to start a mercantile trade.31 This meeting sparked a three-year courtship that moved from Boston to Sandwich and then overseas. The couple was a good match socially; he was a distant cousin of Rebecca’s and a native of Cape Cod, with good prospects of becoming a captain early in his life. In fact, the maritime trade provided strong possibilities for quick advancement because the industry grew so quickly in the early nineteenth century. Most young men went to sea in their teens or early twenties, and few Cape Codders over thirty were not officers. William had already made five voyages to California and the East Indies by the time he met Rebecca. He would ship out on his next voyage as the first mate, so in his early twenties he was clearly on track to be a captain, which would allow him to earn between $3,000 and $5,000 on a trip to San Francisco.32 Moreover, both sets of parents shared a profession and a strongly middle-class social location, and they were linked through their relationship with Benjamin Burgess. Rebecca and William came of age in an era when concepts of romantic love overtook other obligations in courtship. Their meetings reflected this change. By the mid-nineteenth century love trumped economic and social ties, and mutual affection became the overriding factor in finding a mate. Parents generally had little input in the choice of a spouse, although women would often ask the advice of relatives and friends when courting a man. The process of courtship became more private over the course of the nineteenth century, as the ideology of romantic love necessitated that it be shared only by the two people involved in the courtship. The separation of romantic feelings from the outside world created an intimacy between lovers that they reinforced in letters and private moments with each other.33 Though we do not know many specifics about Rebecca and William’s courtship, a look into her autograph book reveals the nature of their romantic love. William wrote three times in Rebecca’s book, whereas other friends and family wrote only once. William inscribed poetry three times between March 2 and 4, 1850, while visiting Rebecca in West Sandwich. His choice of poems reflects the couple’s growing commitment to each other. On March 2 he wrote to her as a mariner, foreshadowing a possible tragedy: “Oh who that has gazed on the stillness of Eve, / Or the fast fading hues of the west / Has seen not afar on the bosom of heaven / Some bright little mansion of rest; / 24

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And wept that the path to a region so fair / Should be Shrouded with Sadness and fear.” This poem went on to describe the sadness of life, but the ways in which hope could lighten the “dark shadows of the tomb.” The poem’s description of the “bright little mansion of rest” was a message to Rebecca that William was a Christian who believed in the kingdom of heaven, which was very important to her. It also mirrors much of the other poetry in her autograph book that focuses on the trials of the world and the happiness of the afterlife. In this way, it is rather formulaic. As William spent more time with Rebecca, his inscriptions became more personalized. First, he copied a few stanzas from Irish poet Oliver Goldsmith’s “The Traveler, Or, A Prospect of Society.” In this inscription William noted his happiness in staying with the family and also his praise for Rebecca’s hospitality: “Blest be that abode where want and pain retire / And every stranger finds a ready chair.” And on his last day with Rebecca, his poem “Parting Words” described the pain and sadness of having to leave a lover: “We do not know how much we love / Until we come to leave; / A passing flower, an aged tree / Are things o’er which we grieve.” This poem reflected the ideology of romantic love perfectly, in which couples slowly developed a selfconsciousness about themselves and an identity with each other. Although we have no recorded responses left by Rebecca, she probably responded to William’s literary ministrations in kind, probably in the form of letters. Antebellum courting couples often found themselves buffeted by emotions of extreme happiness and sadness, particularly resulting from physical separation. Couples understood this pain to be inevitable and even welcome, as it validated their strong feelings for each other.34 By the time William left Rebecca in Sandwich to return to his family’s home in Boston, the couple’s firm attachment was evident. The pain of being separated by a morning’s train ride would soon become exacerbated, when William shipped out as first mate on the Herbert in September 1851. Rebecca and her mother spent the previous month at William’s family home in Boston, which suggests that the couple already had an “understanding” and were engaged. They would marry shortly after William returned from his voyage to India.

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2 Becoming the Captain’s Wife Crafting Personas and Defining Relationships

november 8, 1852 At half past eight we stepped on board of the Whirlwind and surveyed it to our leisure. W. informed us that in consequence of their going off into the stream to take in powder, and our stay must necessarily be short. I felt very sober and was glad to leave the Ship where preparations seemed being made for departure. It brought to my mind in a clearer state the shortness of my husband’s time on shore and reminded me that I was not to go with him. We left the Ship. We cast one lingering look at the Ship as she lay at the extremity of India Wharf and thus queried, tomorrow morning let the gazer come and look in vain for her. Only an experienced eye will be able to detect the W. from among the other Ships in the distance. William bought Saturday Eve two plain gold rings to have marked a solemn promise on both sides, which was this, “I will never marry again.” At William’s request, I took the rings to get them marked, this morning.1

on board ship whirlwind at sea april 1853 i’m thine alone rebecca I’m thine alone, though other hearts may claim My wandering thoughts, this heart will turn to thee At early morn or evening’s quiet time Its secret beatings thine alone shall be.2

Though Rebecca’s autograph album provides the only information about her youth, her first two donated journals speak volumes about her life and her relationship with William. Rebecca kept two separate journals in the year prior to her going to sea with William; one she began almost immediately after her wedding, and the other she started right before William’s |

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departure as captain of the clipper ship Whirlwind just months after Rebecca and William were married. William returned home from Calcutta in July 1852, bringing with him fabric for Rebecca’s wedding dress. Rebecca and William married on August 5, 1852, in her home in West Sandwich. Most likely it would have been a formal wedding with at least her sister, Lizzie, and her two sisters-in-law, Lydia and Mary, in the bridal party. Ellen Rothman describes weddings of the 1850s as being more elaborate than their eighteenth-century and even early antebellum counterparts, with “costumed attendants dispensing slices of white wedding cake” and printed invitations.3 There would probably not have been time to print wedding invitations, but certainly kin and friends surrounded the couple that day. Eighteen-year-old Rebecca was a very young bride. In the antebellum period before 1850, the average age of brides in New England was twenty-two or twenty-three.4 In fact, as Rebecca recalled in her diary, she was “decidedly too young” for the sensibilities of a single older woman she met just before the wedding.5 After the wedding Rebecca and William took a short honeymoon and then moved into his parents’ home on Fountain Place in Boston. There they awaited the completion of the new clipper ship Whirlwind, which William would captain. Rebecca grew up quickly in the space of several years. Rebecca documented the months after her marriage in her first diary, which William had given to her on their wedding day. The first page reads: “Diary. The Property of Mrs. William H. Burgess, Commencing the fifth of August 1852. Written particularly for the amusement of her husband, who is out on the wide blue sea.”6 This diary signaled the beginning of Rebecca’s adult life, one in which journal-keeping became increasingly important to her. Why did Rebecca decide to write consistently in her diary, when the only written record of her early life comes from an autograph book? Scholars who study nineteenth-century women’s diaries discover that antebellum women wrote often and for many reasons. They wrote to analyze their experiences and define themselves as engaged intellectually with the world around them. Nineteenth-century advice literature suggested keeping a diary for intellectual development, and for growth through introspective self-reflection. In addition, keeping a diary was often a sign of gentility. A woman who kept a diary, particularly if it were filled with long, self-reflective entries, had the education, literacy, and time to write in a journal. Finally, diaries preserved continuity, allowing women to sort out the disparate details of their lives to create a meaningful narrative of their feelings and experiences, especially through changes like marriage and travel, both of which Rebecca Burgess encountered 28

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Eighteen-year-old Rebecca sat for this photograph in 1852 either just before or after her marriage to William. Photograph courtesy of the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society.

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at a young age.7 Rebecca may well have started the diary for all these reasons. However, a reader who opens the journals today finds more than just a narrative of her experiences. Rebecca was writing a story, fleshing out characterizations of herself and her husband, setting scenes of activity and loneliness, and casting herself and her husband as central characters in a romance. In the first journal Rebecca wrote of her experiences with William and reminisced about him immediately after his departure. Rebecca recorded more than forty-one entries in this period,8 and in these entries she described more than forty social visits, several trips to Cape Cod, Dorchester, and Chelsea, and many outings around the city, often to view the Whirlwind as it was under construction. Though Rebecca recorded the particulars of these visits and outings in meticulous detail, most striking about these entries is the way she characterized William, portrayed herself, and described their relationship. Essentially Rebecca was attempting to construct a new identity as a married woman, and, in so doing, she fashioned personas for herself and for William. In the second journal Rebecca wrote mainly from her family home in Sandwich as she waited for William to return. These entries are far more introspective, but they continue to reveal Rebecca’s personality, as well as her hopes and fears for the state of her husband’s physical and moral health. Rebecca did not record nearly as many daily events and visits while her husband was away, and she wrote far less often; only twenty-nine entries in a thirteen-month period. Still, the entries Rebecca did make showed that she continued to reflect on her relationship with her husband and her role as a wife while William was away, as well as her concern that William continue to act as a faithful husband. Throughout these two journals Rebecca established important components of her life narrative. She defined her husband’s personality and character, often using her studies of his behavior to admonish him and encourage him to act in a more Christian manner. She also created her own persona, that of a loving, pious wife who remained true to her husband. Moreover, she located her own position in society—she presented herself as a member of the provincial middle class, responsible, frugal, and hardworking—in contrast to the “big city” values of Boston and New York, which she defined mainly in negative terms. Finally, she illustrated the nature of her relationship with her husband, depicting it as full of humor, spontaneity, sometimes misunderstandings, but always love.

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Character Sketches: William and Rebecca Burgess We have very little information about William’s character from anyone besides Rebecca. Rebecca did, however, donate the log of the Herbert to the Sandwich Historical Society. William’s entries as first mate are meticulous daily accounts of the ship’s position and riggings for the day. He also recorded the number of sick hands daily, which never numbered more than three at one time, and he noted the death of a mariner who fell from the main mast yardarm. William showed promise as a leader aboard the ship. On the way home from Calcutta, Captain Bangs Hallett turned over command of the ship to William. William’s last entry for the Herbert read: “Having been mate of said ship 18 months and master 10, I now risign her to her former and able commander Bangs Hallett Esquiere, wishing her pleasant & successful voyages.”9 Whatever transpired launched William’s career as a captain at the age of twenty-three, and he must have felt confident in his abilities to support a family and to marry Rebecca, despite her youth. Rebecca lived with William for just over three months before he sailed for California as captain of the ship Whirlwind. In that time Rebecca had ample opportunity to observe and get to know her husband, both as a companion and as an individual in the society surrounding them. More than half the entries in the journal that she commenced immediately after her wedding provide glimpses of William’s character. Rebecca continually commented on his behavior and provided a clear picture of her perception of William as a companion and husband. Although it is tempting to think that Rebecca was already writing for a broad audience at this point in her life, we do not know if that is the case. Clearly, however, the inscription on the first page suggests that William was at least one intended reader.10 In this passage, Rebecca foreshadowed William’s upcoming trip. Apparently Rebecca was not only recording her vision of William in her journal but was also pointedly telling William what she thought of him. Rebecca’s journal entries form a clear picture of how she characterized William. In Rebecca’s writings, William seemed always to be on the move, not content to stay in one place for long. Just two days after their wedding and almost immediately upon settling in Boston, William and Rebecca traveled by ferry to Chelsea. Four days later the couple took a ferry across the Cape Cod Bay to Provincetown for a Cape Cod heritage celebration.11 William then decided to take Rebecca on an extended trip through Cape Cod from Boston, just a few days after they returned home from Provincetown. Rebecca noted her exasperation with William’s impetuous behavior, writing: Becoming the Captain’s Wife

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I am to start for home. At noon Wm starts all at once and says Let us go to S. this afternoon. . . . No sooner had we arrived home than Wm must go directly to the village to hire a carriage to go to Brewster.12

The next day she described William’s continued restlessness: At about eight this morning we started out for B. Arrived at Barnstable about eleven A.M. stopped at Aunt Harriet’s nearly an hour. It is quite a little ride to Brewster. We arrived at Grandfather’s by two P.M. Wm could not content himself to stay in the house, so he gets Grandfather Howes to go down in the Meadows and get a load of hay.13

Rebecca’s journal entries depict William as an impetuous, energetic man. Apparently so impatient was William when inactive that she actually wrote: “We all remained in the house this Eve, which is something remarkable for William thinks he must go out somewhere.”14 She noted that many of the trips William took her on were to visit his seafaring friends or the famous ship maker James O. Curtis, builder of the Whirlwind, and his family. William was obviously a social man but seemed most comfortable around those who were familiar with the maritime world in which he lived and worked. Rebecca suggested that sometimes William’s free-spirited restlessness made for poor social etiquette. Discussing a trip to visit Captain Sears and family in Dorchester, she chided William for his unwillingness to follow social conventions: “Well we have had a pleasant visit, and I trust gained a little instruction. I love dearly to visit, but W does not, except where he can say and do just as he pleases.” But she tempered her critique with the equivocation: “But all are not alike. It is well they are not. Thus ends this day’s proceedings. May I profit by it!”15 Rebecca also commented on her husband’s variable moods and temperaments; in her narrative William appears a paradox, a jocular, generous man with a good sense of humor but also prone to dark introspection. His capricious nature kept them on the move and certainly made her life interesting. In these characterizations Rebecca drew on what was a familiar trope in the early nineteenth century—the persona of the sailor. Although we cannot be certain whether Rebecca had read much literature about sailors at this point in her life, she clearly recognized the stereotypes. Richard Henry Dana’s famous Two Years Before the Mast had been published more than ten years prior to her marriage and was widely read by middle-class Americans 32

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at the time. Dana’s book describes sailors as hard-working, rarely idle—and not happy simply to sit without employment. Men who were lazy were not respected in the maritime world. Dana also characterized the life of a sailor as fairly miserable, punctuated by times of happiness. They were prone to dark moods and superstitions. Rebecca had not yet read Dana—she would do so on her first voyage to sea. However, Dana’s stereotype was pervasive enough at this time that she could well have picked up on it. She also may have encountered one of James Fenimore Cooper’s several maritime fictions in school. Cooper characterized sailors as constantly energetic, vigorous, and daring, but dignified.16 By fashioning an identity for her husband that was in keeping with the way that sailors appeared in nineteenth-century literature and culture, Rebecca claimed an identity for William that linked him to the sea. Rebecca wrote about how William enjoyed entertainment and going out on the town. Her first journal describes the couple’s many visits to various restaurants in Boston, and she even remarked on William’s familiarity with one particular dining spot. On a return from a visit to the Curtis family, Rebecca recorded: “Returning to Boston, we stopped at Brigham’s Saloon. This is quite a resort for Wm.”17 Rebecca described William’s enjoyment of providing entertainment for her cousin and friend at Brigham’s Saloon: Seth Sears took tea and spent the eve with us. . . . About nine in the Evening we went out to get a treat. Wm thought he would show his new Cousin all the respect he could. He took him to Brigham’s Saloon, and called for Sardines Six for Seth and the same for himself. Seth did not eat all of his. Well we had a pleasant, jolly time. It seemed like meeting an old friend. But it is past. So, good night.18

Rebecca often broke from the narrative of her story to comment on William’s hospitable gestures. For instance, one night after walking some friends to the ferry to Chelsea, Rebecca wrote: “On our way back to the house we passed an old man, A beggar. Wm gave him some money and I have no doubt he went and spent it for rum. I have had a pleasant days visit and enjoyed myself as well as any day since my marriage.”19 Yet again, Rebecca gently chided William for his action, but mediated it with a positive assessment of the day the couple spent with their friends. A few weeks later Rebecca registered more pleasure with William’s next charitable act. “Father had his store broken open the night of the 14 and $400 worth of goods stolen. He bears it like a Christian. Wm made Father B. a presant of $100 today. William Becoming the Captain’s Wife

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possesses many good qualities and is ever ready to alleviate the wants of the distressed as far as he is able.”20 Again, Rebecca editorialized about her husband’s character, this time in a positive manner. Perhaps Rebecca was trying to encourage William to continue being a generous man; certainly she found it a very admirable attribute in her mate. Rebecca appreciated William’s generosity toward others, but she saved her most praise for when he showed that consideration to her. A reader of Rebecca’s journals can get a sense of the relationship between William and Rebecca when reading her accounts of William’s gestures toward her. Rebecca enjoyed the trip to Provincetown by ferry, but she became violently seasick on the way home. She describes William’s reaction as a mixture of solicitude and humor: Wm laughed about being confined so closely to me. I heard him in a joking way tell how hard it was to stay down there with me, and hear the band playing on deck, and the people all enjoying themselves. He thought this was a specimen of married life. For if he asked me to let him go on deck I said in such a pitiful way “if you want to” he could not find it in his heart to go.21

Was William having a laugh at Rebecca’s expense? The twenty-three-yearold mariner may well have found it funny that his wife had no sea-legs at all, but Rebecca clearly also found something to poke fun at in her narrative, as she described her piteous (but successful) attempts to keep William away from the dancing and revelry that was occurring on the deck above their stateroom. Obviously both Rebecca and William understood that the seasickness was a temporary condition that had a definable end, but when Rebecca did catch ill in the following month, William proved a true and capable husband. Rebecca appreciated his ministrations to her, as she wrote in her journal: My health is now very good. Last Sabbath I was confined to my room. The day previous I took a severe cold, which settled on my lungs. Tonight is the first time I have been out. Wm is complete in sickness. I never saw a man more handy, or willing to do more for those he loves. He went to the Apothecary’s and got physic, gave me a sweat, and would allow no one else to touch me. Monday, he bought me some honey, and tried every way to add to my comfort. He is a kind Husband, no mistake, and I love him most sincerely. May our lives be peaceful, and that cross word which oft sepa34

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rates lovers never be utterred. I will praise thee O! my God for thou art good unto me. May I serve thee faithfully to the end of live, and wilt thou keep my Husband. O! God.22

Rebecca registered her delight in her husband’s care in this passage, but she left many questions unanswered. First of all, why was William taking charge of Rebecca, refusing to allow anyone else to assist him? William’s mother and two sisters resided in the house with them. It was common for women to help other women in their sickness during the Victorian era. Was William possessive of Rebecca? Was he that worried about her health that he wanted no one else to care for her? Was he used to taking care of sick sailors, so he felt more comfortable performing that duty than other men of his era? We cannot know William’s motivations, but Rebecca’s entry makes him seem to be somewhat overly protective of her. In addition, Rebecca inserted commentary following the narrative portion of this entry. Yet again, Rebecca wrote an aside to William. Rebecca mentioned her hope that they never “utter cross words” that would separate them. Had they already had a disagreement? Had she witnessed someone else’s marital dispute? Rebecca must have been trying to send a message to William with this editorial aside, but it is unclear whether she was attempting to negotiate past a prior problem or prevent a problem from occurring. Rebecca also wrote commentary after William made several purchases for her. About a week after she took ill, Rebecca took an evening constitutional around the neighborhood with her husband. She wrote afterward: “Arriving at a store in Hannover St. William stepped in and inquired for some dress goods. Seeing some velvetine, he liked it much, and purchased a dress for me. William wants to see me dress well. He spares no money. He is an obliging Husband. May it ever be thus. May I fulfill my duty, and strive to honour God in all my ways.”23 One month later she described an outing in which William paid for a year’s subscription to a magazine for Rebecca to read during his absence. The nature of Rebecca’s editorials is clear in the passage: “Wm is a kind Husband, he wants me to have every thing and never forgets to get things for me. But to return to Sunday.”24 She knew that inserting these notes about William’s character broke the narrative of her stories, but she must have felt that it was important for William to understand how much she appreciated his generosity. She also registered her interest in having him remain a magnanimous husband. By memorializing his actions in the journal and commenting on them favorably, Rebecca made sure that William could reread it and be sure to continue acting the part of the kindhearted Becoming the Captain’s Wife

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husband. She also could portray him in a way that would provide her with overwhelmingly positive memories when he sailed for San Francisco in the Whirlwind. By discussing William’s purchases for her, Rebecca also linked herself to the prevailing attitudes of the times regarding relations between husband and wife. In the Victorian period, prescriptive and advice literature told husbands and wives that a man’s major responsibility was to provide for and protect his family. This is not surprising, given the few occupations open to women, particularly those in the middle class. Indeed, a sign of gentility was a wife who did not work outside the home. Moreover, a husband’s ability to support his wife was key to her survival, because most states, including Massachusetts, did not have laws that protected a married woman’s property until midcentury. This made the husband’s financial success even more critical to the survival of a family, and it tied the wife’s status directly to her husband’s.25 So, for Rebecca, William’s financial support signified his role as proper head of the household—and her recording of his purchases suggests her familiarity with societal understandings of that role. Rebecca’s journal entries depict William as a restless, generally congenial character tied to the sea through his friendships with fellow sea captains, and as a generous man eager to give money, entertain visitors, and enjoy himself, but several entries also show that William had a temper and could be prone to dark moods. Rebecca was circumspect at first about this aspect of her husband. Just after her illness, when she wrote that she hoped there would be no trouble in their marriage, she again inserted commentary into her narrative of a trip she took with William’s friend, Mr. Dillingham. She described the journey out to Chelsea to meet the Dillingham family: Going to Chelsea by boat, accompanied by Wm’s friend Mr. Dillingham to meet his sister and mother—During our journey Mr. Dillingham introduced me to an acquaintance of his, as his Cousin. He is a jolly fellow, and well calculated to take comfort I think. I could not help thinking how different he was from my Husband! One could take things easy and not borrow trouble for the future, the other, always full of care, and anticipating head winds and storms. But give me William my own dear Husband. I envy no Woman’s Companion.26

Once again Rebecca tempered her assessment of her husband’s behavior with a positive comment about her desire for him. Did she fear William’s reaction to her opinion here? Rebecca did not seem to worry much about 36

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anyone’s opinion, and she was certainly no “shrinking violet.” But she obviously wanted to get a message across to her husband about his care-worn character; did she worry that he would take offense at her assessment of his nature? Regardless, Rebecca provides much insight into her husband’s sometimes negative character with this telling passage. Another time Rebecca noted her husband’s displeasure at her. It is the only time that she recorded anything remotely resembling tension in their relationship in this early period, and she did it in such an offhand manner that it is hard to know whether she was upset or humored by his reaction. She described a shopping excursion with her mother in Boston: Mother liked to have got lost. We were returning and thinking Mother knew the way to Fountain Place, I stopped on the other side of the St. to find some velvet, leaving her to pursue the way alone. Coming out I did not observe her in the St. so I went into a number of stores. . . .On starting to go home, I met W. coming in great haste. He said that he had been looking for me thinking I had lost my way, and scolded well because I had left Mother.27

William’s concern for Rebecca’s mother was apparent, in her estimation. But that she remarked upon how he “scolded well” suggests that he may have been disciplining her as if she were a child who had taken a misstep. Rebecca’s journal entries depict a complex man—loyal and family-oriented but not content to remain in one place for long; congenial but prone to dark moods; and possibly a bit possessive of his wife. Rebecca’s narrative and commentary show appreciation for William’s sense of humor and generosity but also gently point out some of his flaws, namely, his impatience, as detrimental to maintaining genteel practices, like performing social calls. But Rebecca did not only use her journal entries to sketch out her husband’s character; she also shaped her own identity as she wove her editorials through the narrative text of her life story. Throughout the text of her journals, Rebecca positioned herself as a member of what historian Catherine Kelly calls the “provincial middle class”; a group that retained many of the values of the close-knit agricultural community, socialized with agrarians and artisans alike, and was quite numerous in antebellum New England.28 Rebecca’s narratives about city life and her commentaries on her explorations suggest that she wanted to maintain a distance from what she clearly viewed as the negative influence of the urban area to which she had moved. Becoming the Captain’s Wife

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Rebecca was an astute social commentator. She used her journal to narrate the events that took place during her visits in order to define her provincial values against the values of the urban middle class. By doing this, Rebecca also fashioned an identity for herself that made her stand apart from other genteel women. Rebecca perceived herself as different from many of the women she visited. One way that she made this distinction was in how she seemed to embrace ideals she saw as provincial. She defined industriousness as one of these values. On one occasion she remarked that, although she enjoyed her trip to see Mrs. Curtis, the ship maker’s mother, she did not appreciate William and James Curtis going on an excursion to “Spy Pond” and leaving them alone. She noted “I was quite lonely, having no work and how can a country girl amuse herself with out anything to employ her hands.”29 Rebecca’s entry is interesting—never before and never again would she refer to herself as a “country girl.” She was not a farmer’s daughter; her family did not own cows or chickens, and she never would have had to do agricultural chores, for her father owned mainly woodlands. But here she embraced her village origins rather than identifying with her new home in Boston. While she narrated the perils of the city, she also maintained her closeness to her home, not just through relating her visits with family but actually locating her “home” physically and geographically as away from Boston, regardless of where she and William resided. For example, she wrote of a twenty-year-old woman she had met who “thought it was a rare sight to me to see flowers” in the Boston area. According to Rebecca, “She thought the Cape was a barren place, abounding in nothing more beautiful, or luxurious, than ‘Sand.’” Then she clearly juxtaposed her identity with that of her more urbane acquaintance: “City people do have some strange views of the Cape, and its inhabitants.”30 Most intriguing about this entry is that she wrote it from memory—it is the first entry in the journal, and it is undated, for, as she explained, she could not remember the exact date of the encounter. Rebecca inserted an aside into her traditional narrative, meant to rebut views about the Cape. Rebecca’s desire to retell this in her journal suggests two possibilities: that she was attempting to create a persona as a singular woman, one quite different from the ladies she encountered in Boston—or that the meeting with this more urban woman undermined her confidence a bit and she was trying to work through the issues by writing the conversation in her own voice and making it part of her story. Rebecca’s description of her visit to another of William’s sea-captain friends shows just how much she defined herself against urban middle-class 38

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expectations. She wrote of her initial meeting with Mrs. Dillingham in a way that situated Dillingham as an arbiter of fashion: “In upwards of an hour [Mrs. Dillingham] made her appearance, with her hair most fantastically dressed, and I think looking rather better than mine. It is the fashion now to brush the hair all back, and arrange it into puffs. For a person of full face, this is a becoming way.”31 As the narrative continues, Rebecca then claims to have shocked the sensibilities of Mrs. Dillingham by purchasing knitting needles and yarn at a store they visited and commencing to knit: “I suppose I lowered myself in their estimation a great deal by this act. Mrs. Dillingham said she never knit a stitch in her life, but should like to knit one stocking just for the name of it. It is not considered an accomplishment for a city lady to know how to knit.”32 In these commentaries Rebecca positioned herself in what Catherine Kelly calls a middle place between “high fashion . . . [and] plain style.”33 Provincial middle-class people often commented on the differences between themselves and urban dwellers, and one of the most prominent distinctions was in the less formal nature of country visiting. Rebecca’s narratives of encounters with city dwellers fashioned her identity as a provincial girl who was comfortable negotiating the world of the urban middle class. If Rebecca did feel unease about her social status, she reworked it into a story that highlighted her uniqueness. She was able to employ both storytelling and editorial asides to depict herself this way. The narrative suggests that Rebecca had few qualms about trying to fit into the new social scheme; she enjoyed visiting, but she did it on her terms, and at least in her narrative descriptions she refused to change her habits to fit those of her new urban world. Even at this young age Rebecca was positioning herself as a singular woman, at least in her own estimation. Rebecca also analyzed her social location within the city as she recorded details about her excursions. Like many middle-class Victorians, Rebecca perceived the city as a place in which virtuous people had to remain onguard against the insincerity of scam artists and “confidence men.” The genteel in society remained constantly vigilant against the hypocrisy and danger in the cities, where strangers lay in wait to take advantage of unaware innocents.34 Rebecca remarked on the dangers of the city, which included negotiating salespeople pushing overpriced goods. On an excursion with her mother-in-law, she wrote about having to browse three stores before finally finding a velvet visite. This three-quarter length coat was a necessity, for which she had to pay fifteen dollars. “O! How tiresome is shopping in the city!” she remarked. This was not the only time she complained about high Becoming the Captain’s Wife

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prices in the city; she also claimed: “I was obliged to pay dear” for some dress trim.35 On another occasion she defined herself as a savvy shopper who had learned the tricks of the salespeople. While with her aunt Emily Howes, she traversed the city looking for “black Alpacca,” a cloth often used to line coats. She noted with dissatisfaction: The clerk asked us to walk up stars saying he had some superior goods there. We followed him, and observed all of a dozen pieces, which to my eye looked very grey. But no! says the clerk, it is very pretty! What a beautiful luster! We stood and wondered at the absurd ideas of this fellow, but ah! Thought I, it is their trade, and they are all alike. A person must keep a good lookout if he don’t want to get cheated.36

Rebecca presented herself not only as a savvy shopper but also as a frugal person, which was obviously a very important trait to her. After a trip to a saloon, she simply wrote: “Leaving this store we entered Vintor’s Saloon, and were treated to oysters. I pocketed the crackers.”37 Soon after she boasted of her trip window-shopping on a day when very few shoppers ventured out. She noted that she “had the St. almost to myself.” She pointed out the many benefits of this excursion: “It was a source of much amusement to me, as I sauntered leisurely along to observe the curiosities of this St. exhibited in the Shop windows. This sight was entirely gratis.”38 Rebecca’s stories suggest that she wanted William and any other reader to understand that she was not a naïve eighteen year old just off the horse cart, which is ironic, given her insistence on portraying herself as a “country girl.” When perusing the narratives of her city visits and encounters, the reader can get a sense that while Rebecca tried to “write herself ” as an industrious, frugal rural dweller visiting the city, she also characterized herself as a woman who understood that cheats and other unsavory characters resided in the city, and who knew enough to remain on guard against such dangers. She noted that not only did shop owners and clerks price their goods unconscionably high, in her estimation, but also that other men who could not be trusted resided in the city. While out walking, Rebecca and her cousin Fanny Coburn fell behind William and Mr. Coburn, owing to the nature of the “private conversation” in which the ladies engaged. Rebecca noticed a man following her and coming closer, so she quickened her steps to reach the men. At this point, the man took off. Rebecca took this as proof that “this is the City. It is not safe for a woman to walk out alone in the Eve.” And twice, she noted, thieves broke into the Burgess mercantile.39 Rebecca’s tales of cheats, 40

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cons, and thieves in the city suggests that not only did she describe Boston as a city full of danger, a complete juxtaposition against the safe and secure village of West Sandwich, but also that she was both virtuous and savvy in avoiding these dangers.

Defining a Relationship Rebecca not only used her journal to create personas for William and herself; she also described and commented on their marital relationship. Throughout both journals Rebecca kept in the first eighteen months of marriage, she cast the relationship as one of love and companionship but complicated by Rebecca’s concern for William’s physical and spiritual state. Rebecca’s fear understandably grew more intense as William departed for San Francisco, and her journal entries became more introspective, marked by comments about her loneliness and her fear for William’s health and soul. Rebecca’s entries describe herself as a devout Christian who believed strongly in the need for salvation and who wanted her husband to share in her beliefs. Most likely Rebecca used her journal editorials about the state of William’s soul as a tool to instruct him and as a commentary on her concern over his well-being. We cannot know whether Rebecca discussed her concerns with William in person; given her forthrightness about her religious beliefs, it is likely that she did. In that case, she could well have written these entries to reinforce her messages to him. Rebecca’s descriptions of conversion attempts reflect the ways in which she attempted to fulfill the obligations expected of wives in the nineteenth century. Prescriptive literature of the time named husbands as the breadwinners and called wives the hearts of the home. Ladies’ magazines defined a woman’s role as moral guardian, keeping her family virtuous and ready to face the dangers of the outside world.40 Rebecca took her role very seriously, and attempted to instruct William in Christian values through the editorials and asides added into the text of her diary. Through these entries, a reader can gain a deeper understanding of the importance of “Christian values” for Rebecca. Rebecca started in on William’s conversion a mere two days after their marriage. After recounting an amusing night out in a saloon in which William received extremely poor turtle soup, she concluded: Another day is past and gone:—I am happy in the love of my Husband, yet one thing grieves me. He does not carry out those principles he once proBecoming the Captain’s Wife

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fessed to sustain. In his letters written to me at sea, he appeared to enjoy sweet communion with his God. O! that he might again experience this happy feeling. Almighty Father, strengthen me in the performance of my duty. Increase my faith. Bless my husband.41

Though Victorian society commonly assumed that women were morally superior to men and were responsible for persuading their husbands and children to abide by Christian values, this passage is still extraordinary in its bluntness. We cannot know what William did to precipitate this pointed message, but obviously Rebecca was trying to tell William that he either duped her into believing he shared her religious values or that he had backslid since professing his faith to her. This commentary set the tone for Rebecca’s future writings about William. Just two days into the marriage, Rebecca stepped forward and claimed control over William’s spiritual well-being, casting herself as the one responsible for bringing about his conversion. That Rebecca called upon God to reinforce her “wifely duty” is even more significant—it certainly foreshadowed the onslaught of religious instruction that William would face throughout his life with Rebecca. Rebecca’s many religious references in her entries suggest a concerted and ongoing effort to instruct William. After describing her treatment by two women who began conversing with her after they discovered her status as a captain’s wife, she pointed out that it was not surprising, as it was “quite an honor to be a Capt’s wife and that of a clipper ship, too.”42 But she cautioned William about growing too proud of his station in life, editorializing: The world looks at the station of a man, not his real merit, although I do not think my Husband receives any more attention than his due. I feel proud of him as a man. A noble man. It cannot be denied that he has been fortunate, and to his God is he accountable for all these things. But to return.”43 In another entry, after discussing William’s kindness in furnishing her with necessities, she commented: “May I fulfill my duty and strive to honour God in all my ways.”44 Perhaps Rebecca wrote this to let William know that converting him was one of the ways she could “fulfill her duty” and at the same time honor God. Rebecca was also concerned about what William might do when she was not around. She remarked derisively on a parting gift given to William by the ship’s owner: “Mr. Newell furnished him with a library of books, but I am extremely sorry to say they are mostly novels, Waverly, and Bulivers. I hope they may have no pernicious tendency, but that they remain unread.” Rebecca revealed her particular Victorian sensibilities when she noted her displeasure in Mr. Newell’s choice of books. Advice manuals of the time 42

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warned women away from romance novels, which many believed would lead readers to disregard their responsibilities by becoming engrossed in sensual fictional stories. Romance novels were not, according to prevailing prescriptive literature, appropriate reading materials. The act of reading was supposed to be purposeful, and texts were meant to encourage readers to become more pious and pure. Novels meant to be read for pure pleasure encouraged selfcentered indulgence. Many middle-class women avidly read novels, against the advice of moralist literature, but not Rebecca. Rebecca heartily disapproved of such frivolous pastimes, and she made her feelings well known to her husband as she noted her displeasure in her diary.45 In a more pointed message to William, Rebecca acknowledged that gift of the novels and other presents showered upon him before his departure: “I hope he may not think too highly of the things of earth but look beyond this vale of tears, which are treasures which far outshine earth’s productions, and will never fade away. May this be our lot, to live in preparation for death. Yes, William for death!”46 Though Rebecca’s language seems maudlin and overdramatic, it reflected her serious concern about the state of William’s soul, particularly in light of his impending sea voyage. Rebecca lost four uncles to the sea, so she understood that William might not return from his voyage. Seafaring was a dangerous profession, with a high reward for certain risks. Rebecca’s entries suggest that, were William to go to sea unconverted, she believed he might not get to Heaven. In these asides to William, she was defining her most important role as wife; that of moral arbiter in the relationship, responsible for the soul of her mate. Rebecca would continue to embrace her own religiosity in her journal entries for decades to come.

Inscribing the Relationship: Rebecca’s View Rebecca considered her relationship with William a good one; she enjoyed his company, and she noted the many amusing incidents that occurred when they were together. She designated herself as responsible for William’s moral state, which was not an uncommon assumption in Victorian literature. Rebecca also considered William a good husband for the financial and emotional support he provided. We do not know of the physical relationship between the couple. Rebecca cut several pages out of her journal, and there is no indication of whether she did it soon after she wrote them or before she donated them to the historical society. These may have been pages she considered too intimate for public consumption. The only mention of any sexual connection between the couple remains in this single entry: Becoming the Captain’s Wife

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Wm went out with George Curtis, telling me he would return in a short time. But it appeared to me a great while. We waited for tea untill they returned which was not untill six P.M. W. comes in and says are you ready to go [to dine with the Curtis family]? Off I go up stairs to fix, but young Curtis thinking there was a chance for some foul play stepped out to see Mother, who was in another room. 47

This is the only evidence we have of a physical relationship between Rebecca and William, and it comes through her story about someone else’s assumptions. Was she merely relating a humorous tale to fill the pages of her journal, or is there a deeper meaning here? Because Rebecca considered herself a genteel lady, she would not have wanted to address sexual relations in her marriage. But by relating the perceptions of young George Curtis, she is able to affirm that William and Rebecca were at least thought of as having a strong enough sexual attraction for each other that they would ignore a guest downstairs. This adds a deeper dimension to the picture of William and Rebecca’s relationship without Rebecca actually having to mention anything about sexuality directly. However close William and Rebecca were both physically and emotionally, the specter of William’s imminent departure hung over the young couple’s relationship. As the impending day moved closer, Rebecca could not help but acknowledge her ambivalent feelings in her journal. As early as two weeks after her wedding Rebecca fretted about her husband’s journey. She noted in an aside that she had a wonderful day visiting and slept soundly: “I thought not of the time when I should have it to say My Husband is on the rolling deep.”48 She became more concerned for her husband as his departure date drew near, and perhaps she found her journal an excellent way to express her concerns to her husband. In late October, after describing the details of the Whirlwind’s cabins and a visit from her parents, she closed with this aside: “Now I begin to think of the time when Wm will leave us to traverse the trackless deep. It is a thought I dislike to dwell upon, the time when my Husband will be separated from me, and exposed to the dangers of the dark blue sea.”49 Rebecca appeared to struggle with her decision to remain on shore as William departed. She closed another entry by relating the debate she was having with William about traveling: “O! sometimes I think strongly of going to sea. The owners are willing. Wm wishes me to, but I think it is best not to venture this voyage. My mind is made up to go the next voyage if Providence permits but it is a long ways to think of.”50 Perhaps she was trying to reassure herself that she had made the right decision, or maybe 44

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she was attempting to tell William that she had seriously considered the possibility of traveling with him. But she would not change her mind, no matter how upset she became at the prospect of his leaving. Rebecca also used the journal to reconcile herself with William’s departure, and to let William know how worried she was about it. She signed off another night with this message: “O! Is it possible Wm my dear Husband must sail so soon. Yes, it is even so a few more days, and he will leave his native land, for a distant port. God grant him grace to enable him to discharge every duty in thy fear, to love thee through life. I am sorrowful, but I try to stifle my feelings. Let me say, All’s for the best.”51 Ironically Rebecca may well have played the stoic in public, but she made sure to describe her concerns and feelings in a place where William would be likely to read them. This is the first time Rebecca noted her concern for William’s spiritual wellbeing in her absence. Rebecca was probably beginning to fear what might happen while her “unconverted” husband was away. As the crew readied the ship for sail, the couple prepared to part ways. Rebecca’s journals became an artifact of their relationship, concrete evidence of the commitment they made to each other. On November 8 Rebecca marked an event that would become an important component of her life story, an entry with which this chapter began: “William bought Saturday Eve two plain gold rings to have marked a solemn promise on both sides, which was this, ‘I will never marry again.’ At William’s request, I took the rings to get them marked, this morning.”52 In agreeing to keep this promise, Rebecca made a very serious vow, particularly given the dangers he faced at sea, and her young age. Two days later William announced this promise in a will he wrote at the beginning of a new journal he bought for Rebecca: My Dear Parents I am not about to leave you & my dearest & truest Friend my loving wife I beg you once and for all to forgive all my past offences & misconduct and may the blessings of God ever attend you: Dear parents as you are well aware that there is a sacred & solemn promise made by me & Rebecca that we will never marry again let the circumstances be as they may I would therefore say it is my sincere & last wish that my loving & lawfull wife shall have all of my little property as long as she remains my wife which may God grant forever From your loving son William H. Burgess In Love & no ill will53

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This will codified the promise Rebecca and William made by giving Rebecca financial incentive to stay unmarried should anything happen to William. These two entries are extremely significant, as Rebecca would continue to cast her relationship with William as one of pure, true, unadulterated love. It seems, however, that the promise was William’s idea. This was a promise that was a bit unevenly presented, given the high mortality rates of sailors in the nineteenth century. It was likely that if anyone would die, it would be William. William had seemed possessive of Rebecca when she was ill; perhaps this was a facet of his personality that Rebecca wanted memorialized in her journals, but in ways that she herself could mediate and control as the narrator of the story. Prior to composing the will, William had written a letter to Rebecca in the same journal: Rebecca my loving wife I must soon leave you to cross the ocean I trust we may meet again and find each other as loving then as we now part: May the richest & best of heaven’s blessings rest on you, my dearest & truest earthly friend. Forgive & forget all past offences and ever remember that William H. Burgess never did nor never will love any other than his ever manifesting true thince Rebecca.54

The solemnity of these letters reflects William’s character; he wanted to be sure that Rebecca stayed true only to him, and he also acknowledged that his path to San Francisco was fraught with dangers that might result in his death. Rebecca had noted that her husband always expected “head winds and storms”; here William provided evidence of just that facet of his personality. Moreover, William’s letters show that he, too, was actively using Rebecca’s journals to inscribe their relationship, thus creating an artifact that became a physical manifestation of their love. The journals were not only a way for Rebecca and William to convey their feelings in narrative form; Rebecca also used her journals to construct a dramatic story based on the couple’s parting. On November 9 William said good-bye to his parents and sisters, and Rebecca recorded the following: “It was a sober time with us all. I could not weep but the girls shewed their sorrow on parting with their only brother by weeping profusely.” At this point William left home to check on the ship, believing that he would return once again before pushing off. Rebecca was devastated to receive a note from the ship’s keeper saying that William had left. As she wrote: “I then felt bad. We had not even said farewell but he had gone. I took to my room and sitting 46

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by the window reflected on my situation. Ah thought I many are the lonely hours I shall have to pass ere my William’s return, but I will trust in God.” Rebecca was pleased and delighted to receive a note from William asking her to take a steamer out to the ship, which she did immediately. She spent the next two days on board the ship with William, and watched him depart for San Francisco from the deck of the steamship that had come to pick her up. She described their parting in her journal, crafting a dramatic narrative about the sad scene: This morning at eight oclock my Husband sailed for California. . . . It was truly a solemn time to us all. Never did I witness such a scene before, nor wish so much to be with my husband, but it was of no avail, much as I loved him we must part. William stepped on the deck of the boat to bid me farewell, and never shall I forget his countenance. . . . The passengers were straining their eyes to notice how the Captain’s wife appeared, but I think they were disappointed, as she did not manifest her feelings. . . . His last appearance as standing on the deck of the Ship waving his handkerchief I could not forget. It is fixed indelibly on my heart, and I do not wish to efface it.55

While William was at sea, Rebecca continued to write in her new journal. Although she did not compose as regularly as she had before, she averaged a little less than three entries a month. She also did not record as much detail about day-to-day events; instead, her thoughts turned inward to her marriage, her relationship, and the safety of her husband. During the year of his absence, Rebecca continued to visit friends, and she moved from Boston to West Sandwich, where she remained for the majority of his voyage. The themes that run through the journal during William’s absence include continued concern for the state of William’s soul and his safety, and reflections upon her role as a wife. Rebecca’s prayers for William’s salvation and safe return run through the journal entries during his absence. As she wrote just after he left, “My greatest desire is that he may love and serve his creator.” She also hoped that he thought of God as much as he thought of her: “Does he think of his young wife today? I feel that he does. Does he think of the being who made him, and has sustained him unto the present day? I trust he does.”56 Later she anticipated his entry into the port of San Francisco, and worried that he might be pulled astray there. She prayed that God would protect him from the vices of the city: Becoming the Captain’s Wife

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May my husband’s chief aim be to glorify God, and my heavenly father wilt thou lead him into green pastures and beside still waters. Teach him the way, and assist him by the grace to walk therein. O my God, preserve him from the dangers to which he is exposed on the sea, and deliver him from all evil in the port of California. May he resist temptations and not be found in the company of the vicious. Many are led away in that port. My prayers attend thee dearest William, my dearest, truest friend.57

Apparently William’s soul was Rebecca’s chief concern during his absence. When she visited Boston she prayed that William might be “saved at last” by becoming a Christian. She again positioned herself and her country values against the danger of city ways as she walked the streets with her sister: “Temptations beset us on every side. In a country it is strong enough but in a city how few can withstand it. My heart sickens within me as I pass through its streets and witness the vast amount of wickedness in it.”58 This departure from daily narratives of events to musing upon the state of her husband’s soul begs the question of why Rebecca’s style changed so dramatically during William’s absence. We know from her brief reports that she continued to visit family and friends, and that she certainly did not sit by passively awaiting her husband’s return. But the introspective nature of these entries may have had several underlying causes. First, by ruminating on the state of William’s salvation, Rebecca could continue to perform her proper “wifely” duty as moral guardian of her husband. She could also use this journal to prove to William that she continued to think about him, and that she was more concerned about him than with enjoying the company of friends and family. But that might not be the only reason behind this change in tone. Nineteenth-century sailors were notorious for their licentiousness. They often spent much of their money on alcohol and women, and, when they entered ports, they often stayed in boarding houses that were rowdy and thought to be uncontrollable.59 While Rebecca’s journals certainly provide no clues about William’s behavior, we know that Rebecca perceived him as impetuous, restless, and “unsaved,” so it is possible that she feared what he might do while away from her Christian influence. Rebecca may not have detailed these fears directly in her journal, but she clearly alluded to the moral tests William would face when away. And the number and tone of the letters she sent him through the year are also telling. She sent a total of eleven letters to San Francisco and several more to 48

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Chile to await his arrival. We cannot know the contents of those letters, but based on William’s responses, it is possible that in several letters Rebecca wanted William to prove his love and fidelity to her. Even though she kept only one of the three letters William sent to her, the tone of this single letter suggests that she did chide him about his behavior and possibly questioned him about his faithfulness. He started the letter with a poem, titled “I’m Thine Alone Rebecca,” in which he claimed: “I’m thine alone, though other hearts may claim / My wandering thoughts, this heart will turn to thee / At early morn or evening’s quiet time / Its secret beatings thine alone shall be.”60 William firmly placed their relationship within the private realm of romantic love, away from public obligations to others. In the letter following his poem, William all but requested that she accompany him on his subsequent voyages: Oh: if my dearest Rebecca was only with me how happy I should be how many long & now very tedious hours should I pass pleasantly and quickly away yet I am well aware that she would be deprived of many advantages of which she now enjoys yet I well know she would leave them all for the sake of her husband if I did not think she would I should not think she loved me but I know she does.61

William also attempted to make amends with Rebecca over some perceived slight that she obviously had recorded in one of her letters. As he noted in the letter, which Rebecca carefully preserved in her journal, he understood that sometimes he made poor judgments in his dealings with others, and he assured Rebecca that he was at fault in whatever situation she had referenced. William’s letter also suggests that their relationship may well have been more stormy than Rebecca admitted in her journal entries. He apologized for the many times he had been “meaningly unkind” and spoke in haste, and he assured her that he was the one who suffered for it in the end. He ended with the promise that he loved only Rebecca and that if he returned he would never speak in haste or cause her grief over his actions again. Because this letter is the only one Rebecca saved carefully in her journal, we can assume that Rebecca meant it as proof of William’s fidelity and character. The letter provides us with more than William’s reassurances of love, however. Readers can see his impetuous nature, both in the way he admitted to causing strife in their relationship and in his writing style. William writes almost in a stream-of-consciousness way, with very little puncBecoming the Captain’s Wife

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tuation. His “hasty” attitude may have been trying for the more reserved and careful Rebecca, but he tried to make amends in this letter, and it apparently worked, since she carefully preserved it. It is impossible to know what Rebecca thought about William’s charge that he almost thought she didn’t love him because she chose not to go to sea—it seems that William was testing Rebecca’s love, or perhaps he was employing some sort of “emotional blackmail” to ensure that she would venture out with him on his next voyage. This comment, too, although tempered with the next line that reassured Rebecca that he knew she did love him, provides a glimpse of what Rebecca hinted at in her journals—that William may well have been possessive. Rebecca may have intended to keep this letter only for the ways in which it cast William as a continually faithful (if somewhat remorseful) husband, but his letter gives the journal reader far more insight into his character than Rebecca may have intended when she placed it at the front of her diary. Rebecca reserved most of her prayers and thoughts for her husband at sea, but she also took time to reflect upon her own state as a married woman. In so doing, she was able to maintain her persona as a devoted and dedicated wife, though her husband was miles away. Rebecca made one extremely interesting entry, a singular musing among the many commentaries about William’s absence, his moral state, and her concern for his well-being. At the end of July 1853 Rebecca noted that the couple had been married almost a year and yet had seen less of each other than they had been together. She lamented that at this point she had sent thirteen letters and had not received the letters back she expected, which made her extremely down-hearted. Then she commented: O husband in one have you found a wife true to her vows. I defy the world to accuse me of one impure motive or act towards the friend of my bosom. No! William for you alone do I breathe this song of love, for my husband, yes, for him alone. I crave the blessings of this life for you, but better, richer, purer, far are the blessings of divine Grace. Wm O Wm I intreat you to love God. I love your soul, and I will pray for you that it may be well with you now & in Eternity.62

Shortly after she penned this intriguing entry, Rebecca wrote a poem that underscored William’s significance to her, her commitment to him, and her hopes that he would come back and return that commitment to her. 50

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“a wife to her absent husband” Thou art far on the deep my darling Away on the blue bounding wave Away where no loved ones may greet thee And the tempest thou dost brave. I remember the morn when we parted, How the soft zephyrs swept by Ah sadly farewell was spoken Each whispered tone breathed with a sigh. Why dost thou linger so long love, There are hearts beating fondly for thee Come again to the home of thy Childhood, My William come thou to me. The years are stealing on wearily, Stealing hopes light from the soul Return for the dark cloud of sorrow Hovering near would my spirit enfold. What wish of thine own unfulfilled Bids thee tarry so long from my side Art thou rapt up in dreams that are golden Or hast thou forgotten thy bride. Oft for thy weal I have prayed love I have watched for thy coming afar And I know that our Father will bless thee My own one my life’s guiding star. I know we shall meet again dearest Though not we may on life’s troubled sea We shall meet where the weary are resting How blissful for me, love and thee.63

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Though the poem is not beautifully crafted, it reveals the tensions inherent in Rebecca’s position as the captain’s wife. As she sat anxiously awaiting his return, she hoped that he remained faithful to her, and wondered what kept the ship so long at sea. She had no way to contact him or know the weather conditions, so all she could do was hope for the best, trust in his commitment to her, and reiterate the vow they made to each other in the last stanza by assuring them that their relationship would survive earthly bonds. This single entry suggests much about the way that Rebecca wanted others to read her character. William would most likely have been the first to read this poem, and it would have exposed Rebecca’s fears directly to him. She questioned the length of the voyage and wondered what he might be doing so far from home. In this poem Rebecca was able to clearly present all the concerns she had over William’s absence without ever questioning him directly. By couching the stanzas addressing her questions about William’s whereabouts and activities between stanzas reassuring him of her love and fidelity, Rebecca could continue to present herself as a faithful woman, whose fidelity would last beyond death. Rebecca’s identity as a proper Victorian captain’s wife remains intact for the reader, even though she engaged with her fears and concerns in several stanzas. This poem may also have served a purpose for Rebecca. We know that she reread her journal entries, because on one of the first pages in the journal she kept while William was home, she made an entry in October 1853. She noted, “Since the time of my husband’s absence I have seen many a lonely hour. Many a day of deep and heartfelt sorrow, but now the thought cheers me continually, William will soon return. Soon it will be time for my husband to reach his native land and O does it not fill my soul with joy when I meditate upon it.” She wrote that she had taken several trips in the past spring, but she “mourned for her husband. Each familiar haunt revived in my memory scenes of the past.” She also provided a motive for writing in her journals: During my Husband’s absence, I have amused myself much in writing, and it has passed many a long Winter’s Eve quickly away. The pages written in this book have long dwelt upon my mind and the scenes and amusements of my first marriage visit have been so fixed, on the tablet of memory. I have conveyed them to paper, hoping in some future day the receiving of the same may bring sweet reccollections of my happy bridal days. Of the honeymoon.64 52

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So Rebecca noted that by reading what she had previously inscribed she was actively creating memory and reliving her time with William. This could explain why her second journal kept during William’s absence tends toward commentary rather than narrative. It is likely that Rebecca was reading the first journal and trying to re-experience through her own narrated story that connection with her husband, while inscribing her fears and her hopes for the future in the second journal. In this way, she retained somewhat of a parallel story, with one focused on rereading the narrated events of the past and one engaging primarily with her current feelings. The poem she wrote reflected her fears but also conveyed her identity to the reader. The journals she had written during the honeymoon provided her with a very real connection to William. Both journals, then, helped Rebecca cope with the fact that she knew little of William’s activities and whereabouts for more than a year.

Reunion Shortly after Rebecca wrote this poem, she received word that William had arrived in New York. She traveled to the city with Mrs. Newell, the ship owner’s wife, and reunited with William two days later, on November 29, 1853. After being together for five days, she recorded her joy in her diary: “O! It is a sacred tie that of matrimony, and the joy experienced in meeting with a Husband after a separation of a year is better imagined than expressed. . . . I think I can say my anticipations have been more than realized in the enjoyment of my husband’s society.” William also shared his sentiments. He claimed that while he felt sorry for his “brother sailors” for whom he wished fine weather, he was happy that he was not in their place. Instead, he reveled in “the privilege of being with my dearest and best friend my all in this world one who I have certain prove of being my truest and best earthly friend I am now perfectly contented and never enjoyed myself half so well as I now do nor did I anticipate so much injoyment in this world.”65 No matter what may have occurred during their separation the couple was extremely happy in their reunion. Rebecca and William boarded at the U.S. Hotel in New York while they waited for the Whirlwind to be readied for sail again, which would be in early February. They quickly fell into their old routine of sightseeing, attending events, and fulfilling their roles as husband and wife. William and Rebecca went to the World’s Fair, attended the theater—which Rebecca deemed “a foolish place of amusement” and hoped to never attend again—and to difBecoming the Captain’s Wife

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ferent churches every week. William quickly and happily reclaimed his role as provider and, in Rebecca’s opinion, spent too much money. Rebecca once again took on her role as narrator and commentator on William’s behavior. As she recorded in her journal: “William is a correct observer of ladies’ apparel” and insisted on buying her a new cloak. Rebecca again complained about the prices in the “big city” when they visited Stewarts “elegant dry goods store.” She was shocked that the cloak cost $45 and a set of collar, sleeves, and a handkerchief cost another $9. She concluded: “This is our first trade to Stewarts, and I don’t think we made an extra bargain on either of our purchases.”66 In addition to reasserting her own persona as the frugal wife, Rebecca continued to record her efforts to convert William, and her enjoyment in the process. Each week Rebecca and William attended churches in New York. Although she enjoyed her visits to Trinity Episcopal Church, Dr. Spring’s Church at City Hall Square, and the John Street Methodist Episcopal Church, she attended Henry Ward Beecher’s Pilgrim Church in Brooklyn three times. She recounted his sermon, and noted: “The speaker spoke beautifully of the goodness of God. I never listened to a better sermon or heard the truth more forcefully in my life.”67 Rebecca’s attraction to Beecher’s style is not surprising, as she found many of the sentiments from her diary echoed in Beecher’s words. Henry Ward Beecher was “A cross between P. T. Barnum and Ralph Waldo Emerson,”68 a man who commanded the largest church in the country at that time, with a congregation of two thousand and a Sunday attendance of three thousand. Ward’s sermons focused on forging ideological ties over social ones, and he exhorted his listeners to understand that happiness came from developing personal character, rather than the trappings of wealth.69 This message resonated very much with the way that Rebecca perceived herself and her position in society. Rebecca also continued her prayers for William. While he traveled to Boston on a visit to his parents, she wrote: “May God grant you success in all your undertakings, and above all may you receive that Grace to enable you to bear with Christian submission, the changes of this life and be resigned to the providences of God.” Rebecca remained focused on the heavenly rewards for which she constantly prepared. On learning of the death of her cousin, Louisa, she remarked that only two of the five girls in her grade remained alive. She concluded that “the lesson I should learn, is to be in preparation for the solemn hour of death. May I profit by this warning.”70 As William stepped back into his role as financial provider and Rebecca continued to serve as her husband’s spiritual and religious teacher, Rebecca 54

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noted how happy they were. She wrote: “It seems as though I could not content myself to have him leave me again, and it seems too now that the past was all a dream and William had never been to sea a long, long year.”71 Apparently Rebecca and William both felt that the separation was too hard on both of them. Rebecca had struggled with the decision to stay home in many of her journal entries, and she finally determined that he would not travel without her again, as she noted: “It is not pleasing to the wife of a sailor to contemplate the dangers to which he is exposed. How often I have said to myself He shall never leave me again, and were I with him now even at sea, how happy I would be.”72 In February Rebecca joined William on the ship Whirlwind, and, true to her word, she would never leave William again.

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3 Rebecca at Sea Fashioning a New Identity

28 may 1854 Another Sabbath and still on the wide blue Ocean. One hundred and thirteen days at Sea! This sound I hear every day repeated as each successive day adds one to the long list untill I am quite tired of it. I do wish we could be so favored as to have good winds and arrive in San Francisco of a sudden, but it will not be so. . . . The Sundays seem rather long now as William has nothing to occupy his mind and talks more of the long passage we are making. O I shall be glad when we get to California, and hear some other tune from this long one, “Every Ship is going to beat us.” It is trying to the patience of a Ship Master to meet with head winds and calms, and no Ship in sight. It has been a long while since we saw a Sail, and I think it would be quite a treat to all hands, to see one. But after all, there is no use in borrowing trouble, it comes fast enough and after a good cry I always feel better and pursue the same even tenor again.1

at sea august 5th, a.d. 1854 On board Ship Whirlwind From San Francisco Towards Callao . . . Two years ago to day I gave my heart and hand to H. R. Crowell & I can truly say that I have never for a moment regreted dooing so: in my estimation it is needles to comment more William H. Burgess2

When Hannah Rebecca Burgess embarked on the Whirlwind on February 4, 1854 to San Francisco, she joined hundreds of other wives who accompanied captains on whalers, merchants, and naval ships. By the mid-nineteenth century the maritime transport business employed more people than any other |

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industry except agriculture, so the number of women going to sea with their husbands peaked at this time. Though we do not know exactly how many captains’ wives attended their husbands at sea, maritime scholars remark that by the 1840s ship owners expected many women to venture to sea with the captain.3 Rebecca became part of the history of America’s clipper ships, the highly acclaimed, wondrous transports that marked the zenith of the U.S. shipbuilding trade. Maritime historian Margaret Creighton called the ships “whitewinged marvels” and noted that clippers made their money from speed and the competition to get to the port faster than other ships. This made captains and the sailors who worked for them completely focused on moving the ship forward, and caused them to constantly worry about weather and sea conditions.4 Clippers were beautiful, highly trimmed ships that were dominant in the San Francisco trade, where goods could fetch up to ten times their value on the East Coast. In order to take advantage of the price inflation, clippers had to avoid saturating the market with the wares they transported. To run a profitable route, captains had to drive the ships hard, as sailors were paid by the month, so time was money. Speed was of the essence. The average trip from New York to San Francisco was 110 days for a clipper, although one famous clipper, the Flying Cloud, once managed the trip in 89 days. Captains of clippers had a reputation for being tough and relentless, and they drove their ships hard to stay ahead of the competition. Although critics often denounced clippers, because they held far less cargo than a slower East Indiaman and other transport ships, the ships caught the attention of the American public. Newspapers eagerly listed their comings and goings from port, noting the lengths of time it took for clippers to transverse the oceans.5 The clippers became synonymous with trade to California, even though they had been constructed to traverse shipping routes to China. Between 1849 and 1850 fourteen hundred clippers sailed for San Francisco. Most were laden with mining equipment, building supplies, and sundries, including soaps and medicines, because merchants did not know exactly what Californians needed at any one time. These ships were costly to run, as the complex sail and rigging system required a fairly large crew. They cost more to build and they were built lighter, so they had shorter lives than larger transport vessels. But they paid off when weather complied with a speedy trip. In ideal conditions clippers could be twice as fast as steamers, and their freight rates were twice as high as rates in a regular transport ship. Clippers could earn $125,000 in a single voyage, enough to pay off the cost of the ship itself, if weather conditions were good. It is not surprising, given these potential profits, that captains drove their ships hard and worried about other ships reaching port first.6 58

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However, with these potential rewards came extreme risks. Captains driving their ships had to round Cape Horn to reach San Francisco. Cape Horn was cold, dangerous, and produced squalls and gales regularly. In addition to storms, ships also had to navigate extreme dead-ahead winds that could keep a ship from making much progress at all. These weather conditions were not the only troubles captain and crew faced on long voyages. In addition to the vicissitudes of nature, captain and crew could face diseases like scurvy, cholera, yellow fever, and smallpox, which could cripple a crew, and accidents at sea were common. The high risks involved in transporting goods meant a very high mortality rate among seamen, and gave the maritime transportation business an extreme sense of urgency and danger that other transport systems did not have.7 As historians Daniel Vickers and Vince Walsh noted, “Going to sea had never been for the fainthearted.”8 The seamen who worked the ships were as unique as the ships that crossed the ocean laden with goods for distant ports. Clippers captured the imagination of Americans, and William’s ship certainly enchanted Rebecca. The Whirlwind was an extreme clipper, so named for her size and tonnage. She was built for speed and light cargoes. She was a fairly small clipper, 175 feet in length, registering 925 tons. There were 22 clippers built in 1852; 4 clippers registered over 1,500 tons, and 12 displaced 1,000 or more tons. Only 6 clippers registered tonnage at less than 1,000. The largest ship built that year was 2,421 tons, and the smallest was 475 tons.9 William’s ship might have been smaller than the average clipper built in her year, but she was, in Rebecca’s estimation, a beautiful ship. Most clippers had sumptuously appointed cabins for passengers and officers, and the Whirlwind was no exception to this trend. While observing the construction of the ship in October of 1852, Rebecca noted: The ship is not quite finished, but looks very handsome. The Cabin is divided into two apartments called the forward and after Cabin by sailors, but I should say dining room and parlor. The former is painted with Zinc paint of a cream color, and glossy enough it was, too. It was beautifully ornamented with gilded work, which gave the room a very neat appearance. The next room was altogether different. It consisted of Mahogony, rosewood, and satin wood. On each side of the rooms, are staterooms, containing two berths each, with the Capt’s excepted which is in the after Cabin. The floors of both Cabins, and all the State rooms, are carpeted with nice velvet tapestry, to be taken up after getting to sea, there being cotton carpeting underneath. On the whole the Ship looked beautiful. The Rebecca at Sea

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lamps cost twenty five dollars apiece, there being two one in each Cabin. In the after Cabin there is a sofa, a large stuffed armchair, an ottoman, and a marble topped centre table. Maroon color are the furniture in the rooms, and of red velvet. In the Dining room there is an extension table with long settees on each sides permanent.10

Rebecca’s delight in the cabin was but one of the joys she related while on board the ship. She would claim to love many aspects of maritime life, not the least of which was sitting outside the cabin to observe the activities of the crew and the beauty of the sea. Rebecca entered a new world as she stepped into this maritime setting that had been historically dominated by men. It was on this trip that Rebecca used her journals to cast herself as the proper wife of a sea captain. In this way Rebecca was not unlike the hundreds of captains’ wives who ventured out on voyages aboard clippers and whalers. Though captains’ wives were indeed “intrepid,” they entered this masculine field because they believed that their place was beside their husband. Most maritime scholars concur with this assessment. Most captains’ wives were “ordinary, conservative, middle-class women” who often hailed from towns with maritime traditions, which made the choice to go to sea easier for them. In many ways captains’ wives were the archetypes of the Victorian woman whose lives were dictated by their husbands’ needs and desires.11 These women simply moved the site of their domestic realm to the sea, living in cabins decked out like parlors, and engaging in needlework, reading, and other pastimes of privileged Victorian women. Rebecca was no different from other captains’ wives in her outlook or her social orientation, but her journals are particularly fascinating because they reveal the real transition of her personality from young bride to sea captain’s wife. Rebecca’s entries also illustrate new facets of her relationship with William, which depict his personality aboard ship. Throughout her journey, Rebecca noted both her reliance on and independence from traditional Victorian definitions of womanhood. She also became a social commentator on sailors and their lives, as well as lands she visited, and grew to understand and appreciate the intricacies of maritime life. She revealed her sentiments about life on the sea by using language to justify her position away from the defined domestic sphere of traditional womanhood. She also embraced Christianity for many reasons. She used her faith as a way to posture with strength in a dangerous world; to construct ties to her home on shore; and to continue to instruct her husband, as was expected of proper middle-class wives. But she also cast herself as the protagonist of an adventure story, observing and try60

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Sailing card for the Whirlwind. Shipping companies used sailing cards to attract potential passengers and cargo. They focused on the attributes of the ship, most notably the ship’s swiftness of sail. Photograph courtesy of the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society.

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ing to identify with the sailors, enjoying and writing down in great detail the experiences of maritime life, and learning to love being on the open ocean. Rebecca faced dangerous, often frustrating weather, homesickness, and a frequently imperious husband, but her journals reflect her growing sense of self, as defined by the maritime world of which she had become a part. Rebecca used her journals to “work out” her identity, as well as to chronicle her sea voyage. By narrating her own story, she was also able to retain a sense of control over her world, a world in which she had little responsibility or importance. Her journals stand as artifacts that explain the way in which Rebecca perceived her role on the ship and the way she dealt with the hardships she encountered. Rebecca and William kept a journal together on the trip out to San Francisco. William noted the particulars related to the ship’s operation, including barometric and temperature readings, miles sailed that day, weather patterns, and latitude/longitude readings; and then Rebecca wrote an account underneath William’s ship log. Of course, this means that Rebecca fully intended for William to read each of her entries, which adds another dimension to her sometimes pointed observations of his behavior.

Identity in Flux Rebecca viewed her first sea voyage as a rite of passage, a ritual that permanently tied her fortune to her husband, rather than to her family. Prior to this venture, she had spent more time as a married woman in the company of her family than with her husband. Rebecca continually focused on the theme of settling in as her husband’s companion. Early in the journey Rebecca remarked: “I do not feel as I used to in regard to the ties of home. Once in no other phase but my Native town, could I be happy. No other friends could please me but my Parents and relatives. Now where my Husband is there is my home. May it ever be thus!”12 Although she appeared to miss the society of her friends, she assured the reader of her journal that it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. In her journal entries, she continued to insist that her home was where William ventured: “My mind reverted to all the pleasures of a cherished home, but I felt in truth I could say here is my home also. With my husband I feel contented in any place.”13 Not even a week later, Rebecca reiterated these feelings when she commented: Am I not happy? is a question that often arises in my mind, and I can truly say I am. I have everything that heart can wish, and what is of more 62

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value than all other blessings. I enjoy my Husband’s society. Earth would be naught but dreariness bereft of his companionship. O it is hard to be separated from those we love, and I feel that with my Husband I could be happy in any situation. The human heart seeks sympathy, and let those who find it esteem it highly.”14

Later that month Rebecca again noted her determination to embrace this new situation as her “home” when she stated: “I am one that thinks highly of friends and the endearments of home. I once thought I could never be separated from them, but how true it is, that for love we will make almost any sacrifice. With my husband I can have any danger, submit to any privation.”15 Rebecca recognized that she had made a break with her familiar ties to home as part of her duty to her husband, and as a new chapter in her life. Her editorializing, however, also begs the question of the other options Rebecca might have had. By choosing to set sail with her husband, she left behind her entire support network. She had only William to rely on and essentially had spent no more than a few months with the man to whom she was married at a very young age. Knowing that William would read these entries, might Rebecca have felt that she dare not voice any discomfort with her new situation, especially when William had so desperately wanted her with him, as he had suggested in the letter he wrote to her earlier? Notable, too, is that Rebecca wrote these entries early on in her journey, from February through April. Although she would continue to reminisce about family and friends at home and write of how much she enjoyed being with her husband, she would no longer juxtapose the society of home with her husband’s society after the first few months into the journey. This may suggest that Rebecca was trying to come to terms with her own decision, and to reassure William that she was happier aboard the ship with him than in the relative security of her home. Or perhaps Rebecca actually grew more homesick as the trip went on, so she took care to separate her fond memories of home from her reassurances of happiness to her husband. Rebecca also had to define new values for herself aboard the ship, ones that had nothing to do with contrasting her worldview against that of city dwellers. Seafaring women had no substantial work to do on board the ship, and so Rebecca’s upbringing as a thrifty, busy, provincial middle-class girl did not prepare her for the life of a captain’s wife, in which the steward cooked, the cabin boy cleaned, and the crew managed the daily maintenance of the ship. In addition, the captain’s wife was so elevated that even on board a ship with dozens of crew members she could be very isolated. She could speak Rebecca at Sea

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to only a few people on board—passengers, if there were any, her husband, and a few select officers. In fact, after Rebecca’s female companion, Mary Ann Singleton, departed the ship in San Francisco, she records no companion aboard except William. Being aboard a ship carrying more than twenty seamen and only being able to speak with her husband and a few officers must have created a sense of social isolation for a woman used to being in a close-knit community filled with family and friends.16 She, like most captains’ wives, filled her days with sewing, knitting, reading, and writing, for she had few real responsibilities and little opportunity for socializing in this new world.17 Early on in the voyage Rebecca recognized that her previous life, defined by industry and thrift, no longer applied. Just several weeks into the trip she wrote: “I love to sit in the gang way of the Ship and watch her motion through the water, but the greatest difficulty is that I am generally in the way.”18 She quickly understood just how affected she would be by having no specific tasks to complete. Although she reassured the reader that she was not bored, and that the voyage was not as monotonous as she had anticipated, she also admitted: “I do not feel like doing anything at all, and to be candid I follow out my inclinations pretty well, for I have been very lazy, even writing seems tiresome.”19 She often compared her life of idle pleasure to that of others who had to work while she observed her lot. Describing the men she observed working every day, she wrote: “I should be thankful that I am not obliged to labor, as the poor sailors are. I sit in the doorway sometimes and watch them, and it occurs to me, that well doth man have to ‘earn his bread by the sweat of his brow.’”20 Just days later she inserted an aside between a simple narrative about the weather and her observation of the figurehead: “I enjoy first-rate health and live at my ease. I hope I shall not get too lazy.”21 She reiterated her concern several times over the course of March 1854, and the only real “work” she recorded included “remain[ing] in the Cabin the most of the forenoon, putting up my things and arranging them in order.”22 One comment Rebecca made rather directly pointed out her true uselessness upon the ship, writing: “I generally take for writing my watch below, called the ‘dog watch,’ which is from 4 to 6 P.M. I do not of course imply from this that my duty is ever on deck for I remain an exception to everything in the form of work.”23 Rebecca then compared her experience on board with a steward and cook to her life at home, where Saturday was “baking day” in Sandwich, when her mother could be found “hurrying on with her work.”24 Rebecca continued to praise the crew’s activities in her March 1854 journal entries: “I took a seat on the house in a favorable position and derived much 64

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pleasure in observing the maneuvers of the sailors. I like to see them while engaged in ‘making sail.’” She also noted: “Every morning the decks are washed down and they do look clean and white. I like to see them scrubbing, and swabbing the decks.”25 Rebecca soon stopped writing of her lack of tasks to complete, probably because there was literally nothing she could do about her situation. By June she also stopped recording the sailors’ work activities. But her entries suggest that she was trying to deal with her new position as a woman who, for all practical purposes, did nothing to help with the operations of the ship.

Refashioning Her Identity: Retaining Links to the Past So how did Rebecca refashion her identity? She could no longer claim to be the thrifty and industrious girl surrounding herself with family and friends. She had no city of vice like Boston or New York against which to assess her own values in her prose, as she had done before. Rebecca had to claim a different persona aboard the Whirlwind. This “new” Rebecca retained some of the old characteristics, namely, her religiosity and her desire both to instruct and to be inseparable from her husband. Rebecca considered herself a pious Christian, and perhaps that identity became even more important to her as she left her faith community behind on Cape Cod. She used her journals to introduce several prominent Christian themes: thankfulness and direct prayers to God; using her worship of God on the sea to create ideological bonds to those at home whom she missed; and using faith to instruct herself and others about patience when the voyage dragged on. Rebecca used prayer in her journals to express her happiness, gratefulness, and good fortune, and sometimes her fears and worries. For example, when in early March it was clear that the wind was not favorable for a quick voyage, she remained optimistic and thankful for the good in her life—“I have great reasons to be thankful today for the many mercies and blessings which I receive from the hand of a kind and all wise God. I feel that my lot has ever been one of happiness, and I desire to render to my Heavenly Father, the service of my heart. May I remember from whence cometh every good and perfect gift, and serve God in the beauty of Holiness.”26 The question one may ask is whether she wrote these faith-oriented statements as prayers to God or as missives to her husband, whom she was still trying to convert. Keeping in mind that William read her entries, the question remains whether Rebecca’s assertions of happiness were attempts to convince William of Christianity’s power. In one entry, Rebecca claimed: Rebecca at Sea

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I can say now I am happier than ever in my previous history, and I know that with my trust and confidence in God, all will be well. Give me the love of God shed abroad in the heart. Give me that reliance in the promises of God, that he will do all things well, what is there that can exceed this? I know that the grace of God can keep me in the right path, and that alone. May I seek direction from above, and try to walk before my Creator with a perfect heart.27

Rebecca’s journal contains prayers of faith, prayers of thankfulness for the health and safety of those aboard, and praises to God for the beauty of nature that surrounded her. She often peppered entries with assertions such as “I do love to be on the sea, and I feel thankful to my Creator that we have thus far met with no accident, and that the health of all on board is as good as it is.”28 Thus Rebecca continued a thread of faith that remained a constant focus through her journal entries. This focus on faith enabled her to continue portraying herself as a good Christian, even though she was not physically connected with her Christian community.29 Rebecca also used her faith to tie her emotionally to loved ones at home, extending that part of her identity that located her in the midst of an active network of family and friends. Her introspective commentaries often posited a physical location far from a church but close to the God she shared with her fellow communicants. At one point, she hoped, “May I not lose sight of my faith, although deprived of all religious influence, but ever look above, and keep the prize in view.”30 Rebecca’s homesickness was often most apparent on Sundays, when seafaring women felt bereft of the religious society they enjoyed at home.31 She often reminisced about church services and wondered about what was occurring in the West Sandwich Methodist Episcopal Church: I wish I might enjoy this privilege [of attending prayer meeting] not that I am discontented, far from it, but there will many times the wish arises to my mind that I might hear the word of God, proclaimed, and listen to the testimony of those who are trying to serve God. I love, O I do love, the place of prayer, and in times past I have delighted to be found with those who “neglected not of the assembling themselves together as the manner of some is.”32

In an entry dated more than a month later, Rebecca wondered if her congregation was remembering her in their prayers as she remembered them. 66

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She assured herself that they would not forget her or her strong faith, and she promised to recall them in all her “religious strivings.”33 It must have been hard for Rebecca to be surrounded by sailors, who, by most accounts, were not the most religious of men. She explored her faith through introspection, and she ultimately concluded her question of faith abroad and at home with a reassuring insight: I often contrast the Sabbaths at sea with what they were at home, but it makes no difference whether the land or the sea, be our home, if the heart is right. I feel that God is not confined to time or place, but is ever ready to hear and answer the cry of the needy. I am happy to say, I know this from experience, and it is my delight to have the fear of God before mine eyes continually. May it be my lot ever to feel thus, and O above everything in this vain world let me live the life of the Christian.34

In this passage the twenty-year-old Rebecca used Christianity to tie her to her home, her land-based community, and to the larger world of believers. Christianity provided security for her in the uncertain life she led on the ocean and helped her retain a relational identity to those with whom she shared Sundays at home. In addition to using Christianity to link herself with her world in West Sandwich, Rebecca would continue to claim an identity based on what she perceived to be her absolute and sacred tie with William through the entire voyage. Rebecca took the opportunity to define herself as directly attached to her husband emotionally and physically, something she had not been able to do while she wrote commentary from her family home in Sandwich the previous year. Sometimes Rebecca seemed to write directly to him, reassuring him of her feelings toward him. When the lack of winds started making the passage longer than it would normally have been, she commented, “Well it is really surprising how time passes away on board of the Whirlwind. I feel perfectly at home and enjoy myself first-rate. O I have such a good and kind husband, and every thing goes along so smoothly. Who would not be happy under such circumstances?”35 In one entry she juxtaposed her previous days of contentment in Sandwich with her much happier life with William on the sea. She wrote of her delight at William’s order to the carpenter to make her a suitable writing space aboard the ship, and commented positively on William’s character: William goes on the principle of having things as convenient as possible, and generally carries it into execution. He is one of the kindest, and best of Rebecca at Sea

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Husbands, and does everything in his power to make me happy. I could not enjoy myself better were I at home even in good old Sandwich, than I do in my present situation, and I am confident my pleasure is enhanced, from the consciousness of being with my Husband continually. I would not change my condition for that of the noblest or most affluent person in the world.36

As if to reiterate how much she appreciated being with her husband aboard the Whirlwind, Rebecca sometimes referred to their time apart. Toward the end of their long journey, Rebecca remembered the pain she had felt when William went to sea after their marriage: I have enjoyed being on the water very much particularly that it affords me the pleasure of being in my Husband’s society which is the best of all blessings. It is a source of pleasure to the faithful wife to be with her beloved companion, and to follow him to foreign lands, share with him all the dangers his situation may expose him to. I often think of the long and weary months I passed during my Husband’s absence, on his former voyage to California. He sailed the 11th of Nov 1852 and returned the 27th of November 1853. I hope I may be able to go with him as long as he goes.37

Ultimately Rebecca used her journal to tie herself emotionally to her husband, thereby reifying the ideology of Victorian womanhood in a setting dominated by men and far from the domestic scenes portrayed in women’s magazines. She idenified herself through her relationship to William, a sentiment shared by many other nineteenth-century women diarists. Often women defined themselves exclusively through their relationships with others, as Victorian ideologies dictated that a woman should find satisfaction through her ties with family, not as an individual.38 Although Rebecca failed to keep as detailed a record of her activities after the ship left San Francisco for the East Coast, she did make notations in the ship’s log that she kept but did not donate to the historical society. In one entry she wrote that because of the cold weather she could not go up on deck, and she was lonely. However, she made certain to explain: I do not feel homesick though by any means. Not for all the enjoyments of home, would I forego the pleasure of my Husband’s society. What is there like the Sacred tie that binds a woman to her Husband? Nothing in this world can compare with her affection. I feel that I could go anywhere if only possessing my Husband’s society, and it is my aim to do all that lies 68

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in my power to please him. What is there in this life worth living for? If it were not for my beloved Companion I would not desire to live.39

The entry is enlightening in that it takes a much more serious tone than her previous entries. Because of the sparse entries from this voyage—she made very few narrative entries, as most of the writing notes ship operations in a traditional ship’s log format—it is impossible to know what was happening at this time. The log notes that the ship faced the same adverse conditions as it did on its journey west, so perhaps the couple was becoming downhearted. Maybe William was second-guessing his decision to take Rebecca with him, so this entry was her attempt to reassure him that she was happy. At any rate, its tone is far different from the other reassurances of love that fill her journal on the trip out to San Francisco, which may be why Rebecca did not donate it to the public to peruse.40

Inscribing the Relationship at Sea Rebecca did donate the journal which showed that she had retained an important part of her persona—that of moral guardian to William. She became increasingly concerned with William’s behavior and attitude as the voyage began to face trouble, namely, bad weather that manifested itself with either no wind at all or head winds impeding their progress. Rebecca first mentioned this on March 1 and noted William’s reaction with her usual tempered commentary: I do not like a calm for it makes the Capt. so cross, if for no other reason. You can quickly perceive the influence it has upon him. Everything acts contrary and wo! to the person who crosses him then. Well it is taxing a Ship Masters patience a great deal, to encounter head winds and calms. I don’t see any comfort to be taken by the Capt. for it is fret and I dare not say what when the winds are adverse, and when the wind is fair. I should think he would fret lest it die away.41

Here Rebecca recognized that William had good reason to be in a foul mood, but her ending note suggests that there was more to her editorial than an explanation of William’s behavior. Once again Rebecca commented on William’s tendency toward bleak moods, no matter the situation. Perhaps Rebecca meant to point out William’s behavior to him so as to make him see that his attitude was adversely affecting her. Rebecca at Sea

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Rebecca also took the opportunity to note William’s imperious behavior in her journal: W. has smoked up all his cigars, and he has now resorted to pipes as a substitute. The most ludicrous part of the scene is to hear him calling every half hour for his pipe, or hailing some one of the crew for tobacco. Even while I am writing I hear the well known sound “Where is my pipe?” Thus far everyone in the Ship has been at the Capt’s service. He is very fond of planning out work for others to do. . . .Well it wants some one to plan, and others to execute those plans.42

Did Rebecca feel that William was changing his character aboard the ship? Was she trying to tell him that she did not recognize this man who doled out orders? She tempered this message by constructing a narrative laced with humor. But her message to William is quite clear: she did not appreciate this part of his nature. But whether she expected him to change his attitude is unclear from this passage. Nor did William’s mood improve as the weather continued to worsen. To be fair, William had reason for concern. The economic success of the voyage depended on swift travel to California, and the Burgess family could have been ruined if the ship failed to arrive at the port quickly enough. Time was particularly of the essence, since fifteen clippers had left Boston and New York between October 11 and November 17, 1852. Maritime historian Carl Cutler termed this voyage “the great sea derby.”43 Historian Edward Snow described this voyage as the “Golden Gate classic clipper ship derby.”44 But it was William’s moods, more than the weather, that concerned Rebecca. She continued to entreat him to be patient in several ways. First, she wrote continually about their inability to change the situation. In midMarch, she mused, This day closes with a calm at twelve oclock. I am in a great hurry for this state of things to end, and hope we shall be blessed with more wind, and that from a right direction. I should be perfectly happy at sea, if the winds were favorable, and a plenty of it, but we must not expect everything to go along smoothly. I try to be reconciled to all the afflictions which I cannot prevent, and this alone will bring peace to the mind.45

Many times in the journal Rebecca attempted to persuade William to accept the trials of the sea, and to instruct him in patience and acceptance, 70

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particularly when calm winds threatened the success of the voyage. She often mentioned that the wind situation was in God’s hands: “How wise it is then to submit our all into the hands of God, who alone ruleth the winds and waves, and leads us in the way we know not of.” It may have been very frustrating for William to read Rebecca’s entries accepting the fate of the weather, such as the following: “It is God who disposes, and Man who proposes. It is all for the best, and if it does not appear so at the present let us trust in Providence.”46 Rebecca continued this trope of accepting “God’s will” for months, and there is evidence that William altered his behavior somewhat, at least when he was with his wife. Rebecca’s donated journal records his journey toward acceptance, or at least his decision to finally stop complaining and worrying in front of his wife. At the same time she began writing about the weather conditions, she also started recording incidents that revealed William’s nature or wrote commentaries on his behavior. On March 16 Rebecca noted: “I never desire to be happier than at the present. But one thing I would like to make me perfectly happy, that thing is to see my Husband in deed and in truth a Christian. I feel daily that this is my prayer, and may God grant to answer it for his Holy Name. And Mercy.”47 We cannot know what prompted this aside; she broke from a narrative describing the carpenter’s work in her cabin to insert this comment. She must have assumed that William would have known what he had done to elicit this remark. Rebecca wrote of William’s restlessness and the way that the weather affected his behavior: “O it is unpleasant enough to see a state of things. When it is pleasant and we are favored with a good breeze W. seems like another person.”48 She described William’s behavior as almost manic, refusing to sleep when enjoying a strong wind because he so feared losing it, and not being able to sleep when the wind left because he was concerned about the length of the trip. This behavior must have been trying to Rebecca, and her description of it in her journal may well have been an attempt to let William know how he was acting so that he could change his behavior. She noted with satisfaction several days later that he had finally taken up making a mat for Rebecca’s mother, of which she approved heartily: “I think it a good idea to have such a thing under contemplation, especially for him considering his temperament &c. for it takes up his mind and diverts his thoughts from the wind . . . and nothing irritates a Captain more than adverse winds.”49 She also secured quite a moral victory, as she described it in her journal: Rebecca at Sea

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It is all very well going to sea in fine weather and with a good breeze, but when you have “head winds and calms” it is ”awful papers” William says. But I think he bears these trials very well for him considering his disposition. One good thing is that he has left off using profane language, a habit to which most sea faring persons are addicted. If there is anything I dislike it is to hear the Holy name of God lightly used. It is from want of proper caution that persons indulge in this degrading and sinful practice. I hope I may never hear my Husband use another profane word in my life.50

Rebecca seemed proud of the progress she had made in educating her husband to do what she perceived as morally correct, but she continued to note that William was upset and concerned over the length of the trip, even recording that she felt better after having had a good cry over being at sea for 113 days.51 Perhaps Rebecca was trying to sympathize with William’s position—or maybe she was continuing to send him messages that his reaction to the weather was continuing to upset her, despite his efforts to keep himself in check when in her presence. But perhaps Rebecca actually needed William to continue reacting adversely to the weather. Many evangelical Victorians viewed sailors as prime targets for “salvation.” Not only did they stand out in their behavior and their profane speech, as Rebecca herself noted, but they were also perceived as being sincere and open to conversion, as they were men moved by emotion. Rebecca could not have been unfamiliar with the New York Bible Society or the numerous “temperance ships” and sailors’ churches that cropped up around northeastern ports.52 By writing of William’s emotional reactions to the weather, as well as her successes and setbacks in attempting to persuade William to change his behavior and attitude, Rebecca could set herself firmly in a land-based evangelical movement, claim her own Christian identity, and fulfill that ever important “wifely duty” of serving as the moral guardian of her husband. Indeed, aboard the ship, that was probably the only power Rebecca could claim over her husband. So what exactly was the nature of their relationship? William seemed to take Rebecca’s attempts at moral instruction in stride. Rebecca’s commentary, though negative at times, was always tempered with understanding for his situation, which shows either a great penchant for diplomacy on her part or a tendency to sympathize with her husband’s plight. William and Rebecca communicated in the journal directly at some points, as when William joked about her irritation at him “dirtying her book” with his chronometer figuring. On another occasion, Rebecca criticized Wil72

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liam’s method of notations in her journal. As he figured the chronometer time quickly at the top of the page, he wrote to her, “Chronometer time in a hurry. Excuse the figures.” Rebecca retorted: “William has had the kindness to write the chronometer time in my Journal but as he often does he must needs spoil the looks of it by his after flourishes or finishing strokes, which look to me very much like a child’s scribbling but all I get from him is clear gain, so I don’t fret if he does suit himself.”53 These short passages reflect that no matter how upset Rebecca and William may have been at the weather conditions, or even with each other, they were still communicating and in a self-depreciating way that reflected their sense of humor.

Making a New Way: Rebecca and the Sea Rebecca and William also recorded a dispute early in the trip. In March Rebecca wrote: “William made a mistake in the date of this day as yesterday was the 10th but it don’t make much of a differrence. The days seem a great deal alike to me.” Several weeks later William wrote in another date that Rebecca claimed to be incorrect, and Rebecca responded, “William made a mistake in the day in writing the above, and it is not the first error I have in my Journal.” William retorted: “Oh Rebecca made a slight mistake a few days previous to this date which you will notice makes William right as he always is Therefore this day and date is Tuesday I mean Monday 27th.”54 This dispute is more important than might appear on the surface. Nautical time is kept from noon to noon, and thus the calendar is different from the one used on land. Rebecca was wrong, technically, because William was using the nautical calendar in his more formalized ship’s log. At this point Rebecca was learning to use the chronometer to take the ship’s calculations. She knew that she was following a different calendar and intentionally confusing the nautical date with the land date. In fact, a few weeks earlier she made this notation: “From this date I intend to keep Nautical time, instead of Civil computation, which commences at twelve oclock at noon of one day, and ends at twelve oclock, the next day, as we reckon time.”55 Is it possible that early in the trip Rebecca was trying desperately to maintain an identity and a life based on what she had left behind on shore? Was this her way of resisting William’s total command over the world of the ship, crew, and passengers, as captains were expected to have? Rebecca may well have been attempting to understand her own situation and retain some control over her life. Throughout the journal, Rebecca made comments that reflected her desire to do as she wished, with varying Rebecca at Sea

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results. For example, Rebecca was very pleased to have a female passenger along for the trip to San Francisco. She wrote: “I have a first rate companion. Miss Mary Ann Singleton, and we get along finely together. We have not quarreled even once. . . . We call her Jane. It seems to be a familiar name, and I tell her she had better adopt it altogether.”56 Why did Rebecca feel the need for a nickname? Was she attempting to construct familiarity with the woman to whom she had just formed an acquaintance? Both Rebecca and her sister, Lizzie, were known by their nicknames—was Rebecca trying to craft a close bond quickly? Though we cannot know her motivation, it speaks to the issue of control—Rebecca appeared to be “in charge” of this situation, as she never asked, and didn’t seem to care, if this nickname was acceptable to Mary Ann. Rebecca’s need to control also asserted itself when she finally was able to write of her first two weeks aboard the ship. At the start of her journal Rebecca claimed that she had never been seasick but had been ill on land before she left. Here she may have been eliding the truth in order to create good memories to look back on? In fact, she discussed her “lack of seasickness” in her very first entry in this particular journal, so it was early on in the voyage. Several weeks later, however, Rebecca noted that both she and Mary Ann Singleton were indeed violently ill, and she even said: “I did not think I should ever like going to sea.” She could not sit up for two weeks, and the ship’s pitching drew water into the cabin. But, as she said, she got over it—“I looked into the water and it gave me pleasure to think I had so far recovered from the effects of seasickness.”57 Directly after she recovered from seasickness, she did not dwell on the problem, but once she had sailed for several weeks, perhaps she felt that she could “own up” to her earlier problems. This suggests that Rebecca was essentially controlling her own memories.58 Rebecca also behaved in ways that a captain’s wife should not—not only did she refuse to keep the correct nautical time for a long while, but she also visited areas on the ship where she was strictly forbidden. In both geographic and cultural terms, the foremast area belonged strictly to the sailors. Their sleeping and recreational quarters were located “before the mast,” and even the captain was not truly welcome there. Ladies aboard the ship were relegated to the stern of the ship, and they spent much time in and on top of their cabins there. But not Rebecca. Shortly after the dispute over the date, she recorded another event that must have tried William’s patience to the extreme. Her version of the story tells the tale of two women, Rebecca and Mary Ann, who decided to go forward into the ship and sit near the anchor. 74

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The seas were quite rough, and William must have been extremely displeased when he or one of the sailors aboard spotted the two ladies sitting in the bow. As Rebecca reported: I moved about rather incautiously while in this part of the ship, I suppose, at least I was not permitted to remain there long. All of a sudden William appeared, beside us. And requested me to go Aft, as he did not want to stop the ship to send out a boat. I reluctantly left my seat, beside the Anchor, and obeyed his injunctions, all the time wondering why it was, I wanted to go where I could not.59

This entry reveals that Rebecca knew the area was off-limits; even she did not know why she had gone there. Earlier she had remarked that she did not venture into the bow of the ship for almost a month, and then William had to accompany her.60 In conjunction with the previous stories, it appears that perhaps Rebecca was trying to retain some semblance of control over her life and her decisions. In this early part of the voyage, these entries depict a woman who was trying to come to terms with her new situation. Apparently, however, as Rebecca started complying with the rules and regulations aboard the ship and began to work out her new position, she embraced the life of the captain’s wife at sea and depicted herself as a woman who enjoyed the maritime world. She had begun early on to “learn the ropes” of the ship, and she related the names of the masts and sails in her journal, apologizing for any mistake she might have made because of inexperience, shortly before the incident at the bow of the ship. She recognized her lack of knowledge, but she commented on the fact that she was trying hard to learn her way around her new world when she said: “I should rather say I am not enough skilled in Navigation to relate them [calculations] directly. I like to examine a Ship’s log book, and to hear persons talk of the sea and ships. I try often to learn the meaning of the many sea terms I hear used, and I have studied Bowditch’s Navigation, which is a full and complete guide to the beginner.”61 By the time the ship reached San Francisco, Rebecca had learned to navigate successfully: “I have learnt to work Chronometer time, and think the remainder of our passage I shall work up my own Latitude & Longitude. I like to know about anything that concerns a Ship.”62 In this achievement, Rebecca was not unlike many other captains’ wives. Some women even taught junior officers how to navigate, and others would keep the logbook for their husbands.63 At this point, Rebecca was identifying more Rebecca at Sea

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as a maritime figure, although she continued to write about her faith and of her attempts to mediate William’s behavior, thus retaining the aspects of her “former self ” that were most important to her. Rebecca’s journal entries suggest that she was becoming more comfortable with this facet of her new identity, and as Rebecca learned more about her new world, she recorded more of her enjoyment with maritime life. Her comments about seafaring life suggest her joy in the freedom she experienced at sea, and a growing sense of herself as the protagonist in an adventure story. Many captains’ wives experienced similar feelings, as their developed sense of self was necessary for survival on long sea voyages, and, like these wives, Rebecca tried to capture some of the excitement, joy, and even fear that was ever present at sea. Rebecca, like other seafaring women, could modify and transform her experiences by writing them down and, as a result, could claim power in a world dominated by men—a world that captains’ wives chose to enter.64 Rebecca became intensely interested in observing the activities of the crew, and while her journal passages often define herself against the crew, they also note her pride in the sailors’ work and her attempt to understand their world. In her second on-board journal entry, Rebecca remarked that women on ships often signified trouble: “I hope we shall have a short passage and meet with no disaster, particularly as the Capt has his Wife with him, and I have often heard it remarked that they bring bad luck. For my part I see no reason for this saying.” This entry marked her intellectual distance from the crew.65 Even though she was separated from the twenty-four crew members by her social position as the captain’s wife, she tried hard to empathize with them, which she did by relating the sailors’ activities in her journals. On the day the crew crossed the equator, Rebecca noted, with satisfaction: “Neither was the old custom of initiating sailors performed on board of our good Ship. I think this is about abolished.” Traditionally crossing the equator signified an important rite of passage for young seamen, who engaged in rituals that included heavy drinking and often ended with the neophyte sailors getting tossed in the water.66 One could see Rebecca heartily disapproving of such nonsense. Rebecca also found the sailors’ personalities and pastimes entertaining. She transcribed the sea shanties “Ben Bolt” and “Handy Andy” into one of her journals, with the notation on one thanking the captain of the ship Argonaut for supplying the words.67 In March she noted with enthusiasm,

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At 6:30 P.M. I went on deck, and saw them double reef, the topsails. After the men came down from the yards, and while hoisting the yards aloft they sang the song, Bony was a warior. Chorus way, hey, hey, John frame war. I do like to hear them sing, and I think we have as good a crew as can be scared up. I took particular notice of them, and they made quite an appearance, 24 in number. They are a good looking crew.68

For a provincial middle-class woman accustomed to working in her village, Rebecca was now a woman of leisure. Her descriptions of the sailors’ occupations were perhaps an attempt to relate to them on a level understandable to her, as the sailors she described were hard-working and respectable. Rebecca also used her narrative to illustrate in great detail what she found interesting and amusing about sailors. In one entry she related the story of a particularly good-natured sailor. “One of the sailors, whose name is Smith, and a very good humored fellow, was leaning on the gang-way, looking into the water, when a very heavy sea struck the side of the ship, and completely submerged him. For a few moments he stood rubbing his eyes, which were filled with salt water, and then turning to his laughing companions he joined in their merriment right lustily.”69 Rebecca was quite amused by his nonchalance about getting drenched, and she commented that she felt sorry for the sailors who had to live with getting “dashed with salt water” and not wash it off as she could. Rebecca also wrote about the sailors’ attempts to catch and kill sharks. As she explained, “Sailors have a great antipathy to sharks, and I should judge so from the manner that Wm treated him. They are an ugly-looking set of fish, and I don’t like them either.” She understood well why sailors did not like sharks, as she noted on a later attempt to catch them: “A mariner has a great dislike to a Shark and delights in cruelizing them, for they are his certain foes, if he chances to be in their reach.”70 In these and various other entries, Rebecca tried to describe the activities of the crew in a sympathetic manner. She respected the sailors in the crew, and she delighted in observing their music, humor, and recreational activities. Perhaps Rebecca wrote so much about sailors because in her provincial middle-class world at home, villagers of all classes mingled in church and at the markets. Unlike in large urban cities, small-town bourgeoisie did not have the ability to segregate themselves from less elite classes, and Rebecca’s schooling and church activities included all the residents of West Sandwich, who, although similar in ethnicity, were diverse in occupation and income levels.71 Rebecca’s experience growing up in a provincial village might have

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made her less concerned about segregating herself from the crew. Moreover, as Rebecca detailed the sailors’ activities, she signified her growing identification with maritime life and labor. Although she was not to speak to the sailors directly in this strange new maritime world, she could at least try to find commonalities with them and record those in her journals.72 Rebecca also used illustrations of ocean wonders to explain her delight in experiencing this exciting new world. It is in these passages that Rebecca truly understood herself as “the captain’s wife.” She noted her enjoyment in viewing many shipboard activities throughout her journey. She described the wonderful fish the sailors caught for her to eat, including flying fish, albacore, bonita, and dolphin (mahimahi). Although she grew up on Cape Cod Bay, these fish would have been exotic to her, and she probably learned their names from William or other officers on board the ship. She saw a whale, and recorded the attributes of marine birds she saw for the first time, including albatross and marlinspike. She enjoyed the food and thought that the steward was extremely competent. She also loved singing hymns with Mary Ann Singleton up on deck, and she even took the rats in stride. In one entry she laughed when the rats frightened Mary Ann, and she mentioned that the dog was absolutely useless in catching them. This entry was a bit meanspirited; Mary Ann actually fell flat on her face from the scare, and it concerned Rebecca, according to her entry, but she thought it amusing afterward because Mary Ann escaped without being seriously hurt.73 Rebecca may well have dwelt upon this incident because it showed the distance she had come in constructing her identity as a woman of the sea—after all, for Mary Ann, the trip was merely a way to get to San Francisco. For Rebecca, it signified her new life with her husband. All in all Rebecca seemed to have a great time just being on the sea, even through the “head winds and calms,” for her journal continued to include happy scenes of maritime life. Rebecca reported that her favorite moments were sunsets and moonlight evenings that she could observe on deck. In one entry, after watching a particularly beautiful sunset, she wrote: “last night it was truly worth the risk of going to sea to enjoy such a scene as I did.” She was amazed one evening when she could stay out until midnight reading by the light of the moon, which she never thought possible before. She also wondered at the luminescent phosphorus that lit up the surface of the water like silver as the ship cut through the water.74 Rebecca’s journals reveal a woman entranced by the romance of sailing in the open ocean under a beautiful moonlit sky. She mentioned the poetic nature of the sunset: “Sunset at sea, is often sung by the poet, and the pen of 78

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the ready writer has feebly tried to portray to the imagination its beauties but it can only be seen to be felt. There is nothing in Nature more pleasing to the eye, or gratifying to the imagination than this scene.”75 But all the while she was crafting these beautiful pictures for the reader she continued to write of the adverse weather conditions. It seems as though Rebecca was attempting to mediate the realities of the voyage with her florid depictions of life at sea. Was this so that she could re-create positive memories for herself when she read back through the journal? Was it to reassure William that she continued to enjoy her new life? Or was it to focus some outside reader’s attention on Rebecca’s persona as an intrepid adventurer rather than on the realities of the lengthy trip? The tedious journey was wearing on all aboard the ship, and things got worse when the Whirlwind reached day 120 at sea, which was the day William had sailed into port on his previous trip. Even though Rebecca noted this fact, she continued to call upon her faith, claiming that God would be the one to determine when the ship would get to San Francisco.76 The Whirlwind finally arrived in San Francisco on June 13, marking the end of a long 133-day voyage. Luckily for William, bad luck had attended other ships in the “derby,” and the Whirlwind made comparatively good time, arriving in port with Queen of the Seas, which had left one week before the Whirlwind. William’s ship came in right in the middle of the pack. The Flying Fish won the race, coming in at 92 days, but William’s ship caught The Queen of the Seas, which showed his navigational prowess.77 Rebecca continued to comment on the weather, and how William and she were both dealing with it, until day 124 of the voyage. She missed many days in between, excusing her own behavior for having nothing new to say, or by promising to write more entries from memory (which she did not do). Perhaps Rebecca had decided that she had said enough about herself and her trip to provide the reader with a good illustration of her identity, her relationship with William, and her adventures. Or maybe she was growing tired of the voyage but did not want to be overly negative in her portrayal of the trip. Rebecca also described with pleasure the end point of the voyage. San Francisco was a bustling city unlike any she had ever seen. Newcomers marveled at the enormous flocks of birds and seals, the health of the cattle and horses grazing on the hills around the city, and the racial diversity of the large population. Travel writers noted the magnificent harbor and the surrounding scenery. They also commented on the way that buildings seemed to go up overnight. Many also discussed the underside of the city—the many gambling houses, impoverished men who had failed to make their fortune Rebecca at Sea

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in gold, and merchants who sold wares at astronomical prices. Rebecca either did not notice or did not record the potential dangers visitors found in the port city. She wrote about her experiences on this strange shore with pleasure, and she truly enjoyed her travels there. Like many other Americans who recorded their impressions of the port city, Rebecca saw San Francisco as an exotic port that represented the best possibilities of America.78 In one account she described the incredible flowers that bloomed with intense colors and fragrances and the “neatest and prettiest dwelling houses I ever saw.”79 She also marveled at the quality of produce in California: We were soon informed that our repast was furnished and we seated ourselves to partake of the richest food the country produced. We had broiled chicken, and the nicest vegetables I ever ate. We had some green corn and peas. I never tasted of anything nicer. California is a great agricultural country. Such potatos as they raise. Why they would almost frighten the folks at home, and their Turnips and Beets are far superior to those of any other state in the Union.80

Rebecca was sad to leave the city that so impressed her, and once on board ship, she reminisced: “As this would doubtless be our last ride in San Francisco, I tried my best to enjoy it. This had been an unusually pleasant day, and but very little wind. It was truly delightful at its close. As we rode quietly and musingly on, I thought no country in the world could equal this. Flowers of every description lined the way and filled the air with their fragrance.”81 These entries were not written in the journals—perhaps she did not want to carry them ashore with her. But that she carefully kept the papers with the entries and donated them suggests that Rebecca wanted readers to know just how far she had traveled. By keeping these travel entries, she could portray herself as a worldly woman. Her voyage had been extraordinary; most women did not venture to sea or to the West Coast at this time. But she was not alone, as many other captains’ wives did accompany their mates on long trips around the world. Still, by this point in the trip, Rebecca had clearly established an identity that linked important values of her past—her religion, her ties with family and friends, and her responsibility for William’s moral instruction—with new elements, tied to adventure and life on the sea. The journal and travel notes that Rebecca donated portray a complex, unusual, and strong-willed woman. Rebecca crafted her many narrative entries in a way that educated the reader about life on the open ocean, the work and characters of the sailors, and, perhaps most important to her, the 80

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woman she wanted us to know and the relationship this woman had with her husband. These journals are the ones she turned over to the public. The journal she did not donate now resides with the Bourne Historic Commission and is known as the “Lost Log of the Whirlwind.” It has few narrative entries; one is fairly negative, and the others simply detail many of the same experiences she had on her journey to San Francisco, although several pages describe the events that took place at Callao and the Chincha Islands, where the ship stopped on the return voyage. Perhaps Rebecca felt that her more negative feelings of homesickness and her lack of enthusiasm about the Chincha Islands, a smelly pit stop where clippers went to pick up guano on the return voyage, did not merit reading. Perhaps she did not think readers would be interested in the bulk of her entries, which did read as a true ship’s log containing mostly calculations and weather notations. Whatever her motivation was, the fact is that she carefully chose the more positive, descriptive, and intriguing journals to offer up for public purview. This alone suggests the care Rebecca took in presenting her persona, both at the time and later in life. When she boarded the Whirlwind, Rebecca left everything she knew behind, including her family and her friends. Prior to her trip to New York, she had never traveled more than ninety miles in her life. Moreover, many of the activities that defined her—staying safe and virtuous in the dangerous city, working hard as befitted a “country girl”—were unavailable to her on board ship. Her first trip at sea marked a turning point in her life, as she moved from being William’s bride to a seasoned captain’s wife who could navigate a ship and travel around Cape Horn without fear. Rebecca’s journal entries describe this transition with themes found in the diaries of many other captains’ wives. She recorded a complex mixture reflecting prevailing sentiments about love and companionship, on the one hand, and a developed sense of self based on her seafaring experience, on the other. Rebecca embodied the contradictions literary and maritime scholars have found in hundreds of other seafaring women’s diaries.82

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4 Challenges and Transitions Shifting Identities

july 26 O it is a dark, dismal day, and with all my efforts I can scarsely keep from slipping from my chair while writing, the ship is in such constant motion. To write well, I cannot if intelligibly it is a wonder, Oh I am quite tired of this roll and tumble life, and really today I feel almost homesick. It would not do to say so, though, for here is my liege lord and master, ready to say “Why did you come to sea then?” and sure enough, why did I leave my native soil in nature’s most pleasant season to spend the best days of my existence on old Oceans, heaving breast, separated from friends, debarred the privilege of mingling in the busy scenes of life? Ah! Love alone. Love stronger than death. One object dearer than all else. One tie in compassion, to which all others is of minor importance, binds me to earth, and where that object goes, there will I also go.1

entries from rebecca’s ship log, commenced in london nov 27 I suppose, it is “Thanksgiving Day” at home. William is so unwell we have not kept it, as usual in having extra dinners etc. William is quite unwell. Very weak. nov 29 William is very sick, and ought to be on shore.2

After spending five months ashore with family and friends, Rebecca made the fateful decision to accompany William again, this time on a voyage with no definable destination but San Francisco. The couple embarked on a new, |

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Painting of the Challenger, the extreme clipper ship captained by William Burgess on his last fateful voyage. Painted in China in 1856. Photograph courtesy of the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society.

much larger, extreme clipper ship named the Challenger. In this ship William and Rebecca traveled from Boston to San Francisco, then on to China, London, and Chile. Rebecca began the voyage with high hopes, but as the months wore on she seemed to face almost nothing but trouble, both on the sea, in her own spiritual life, and with her husband. The way Rebecca narrated the story in her journal, it seemed as if the Challenger was a cursed ship, as Rebecca’s experience went from problematic to tragic in the space of a year and a half. Rebecca’s more terse and businesslike entries in the ship’s log she kept reinforce her prose in the journal; Rebecca and William faced challenges, some too steep to overcome. Rebecca donated two journals that hold information about the Challenger’s voyage. Her more introspective journal shows a deeply changed Rebecca, a character far different from her Whirlwind days. In this journal Rebecca’s prose describes a woman whose main concerns are for her own health, the safety of the crew and ship, the condition of her own soul, and her family at 84

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home. Rebecca no longer wrote herself as a character who loved the sea but as a woman extremely homesick and burdened with worries. The log Rebecca kept during her voyage from London to Chile shows her ability to keep chronometer time and her general nautical knowledge. It also tracks William’s health, which most likely consumed both her time and attention in the summer and fall of 1856. Together these two journals suggest that Rebecca perceived herself as a woman in deep spiritual and personal crisis who felt she had to maintain control over the ship in late 1856. But what events precipitated this change in Rebecca’s narrative tone?

Early Optimism Signs of trouble emerged early in the voyage, although Rebecca’s narratives suggest that at first, she was able to take the trials in stride—at least that is the message she was sending to William, who continued occasionally to make his own entries. The weather did not cooperate on this voyage, and Rebecca and William again feared a long trip. Rebecca noted in the first week of travel: “I hope we may make a quick passage to San Francisco for William thinks so much of a passage.” She seemed happy that William had taken her gentle guidance to heart, and noted with satisfaction his “cool and submissive” nature. Had William finally acquiesced fully to Rebecca’s prodding to become a more “Christian” and patient man? Or was it that William maintained hope that his weather situation would change? Though Rebecca may not have known William’s motive, she noted the change with pleasure. Early on in the trip she still felt optimistic, and she closed her comments by insisting: “I feel perfectly contented. I sacrificed nothing to go with my Husband, for I could not be happy if deprived of his society.”3 At this point her message to William sounded much like those in her earlier Whirlwind journal; while acknowledging the bad weather, Rebecca could still find satisfaction in her situation. Rebecca also took a serious health hazard in stride in the early weeks of the journey. One of the crew had smallpox. Because smallpox is so contagious, the disease was feared by crew and passengers second only to cholera, which spread even more quickly.4 Rebecca tried to rationalize the situation, because, as she admitted, she could do little about it, though she felt sorry for those who had the malady: All in the Cabin appear in good health, but there are a number of the Sailors sick, and we think one has the Small Pox. This infectious disease, once introduced on Ship board, has been known to sweep off a whole crew. But Challenges and Transitions

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it is of no use to be frightened, if this dangerous disease is amongst us, we can but submit to it, and do all we can to relieve those who are sick. I do pity the Sailor, sick on board Ship. It is not like being sick at home, and having the attendance of friends who can sympathise and comfort.5

Despite the bad weather and the sickness aboard the ship, Rebecca tried to focus on the reason for her presence there. She continued to describe her duty to be a companion to her husband, writing: “But I would not convey the impression that my present home is not a happy one. Give me the presence and companionship of my Husband, and I can be happy in any situation.” She did mention in this passage, however, that she did not prefer to be on the ocean. She noted, “I look upon the Old Ocean, as my home for a short season. Not do I prefer a home on the sea, to the beautiful land, for choice, but it is my Husband’s avocation, and to be with him, what enjoyment I would not forego.”6 This is a very different attitude than the one Rebecca evinced aboard the Whirlwind; here she focused more on what she was missing by choosing to remain with her husband. The tone in her journal had changed. We cannot know, of course, what occurred to cause this change only about two weeks into the voyage. We also do not know how William was reacting to this dramatic shift in his wife’s attitude, what he thought of her focusing on the sacrifice she had made to be with him. In this entry Rebecca pointedly notes her preference to live on land, but she couches her admission in words of support for William. Was she attempting to suggest to William that she wanted to settle down after this voyage?

A Crisis of Identity Things got no better as the trip went along, and bad situations caused Rebecca to begin to question her state as a Christian, her decision to go to sea, and even her previous assessment of William. In short, Rebecca questioned almost everything that had previously defined her identity. Rebecca continued to record head winds and calms, and then she experienced her first real shock at sea; the death of a sailor she called “Folger.” She did not record how he died, but tragedy actually befell sailors quite often, and he could have been sick or suffered an accident that later caused his death. Rebecca had been lucky enough to remain ignorant of the high mortality rate of seamen until a few weeks out on this voyage. She commented on the sadness of the situation; Folger left no clue as to his next of kin, and this troubled Rebecca. Perhaps her concern over his lack of identifiers betrayed Rebecca’s real ties 86

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with the land; as a woman who perceived herself at the center of her community, she really could not understand the reality of maritime life. Ship crews had become increasingly heterogeneous over the course of the century, and crew members did not generally know one another before they shipped out on voyages. It was perfectly normal for a captain and crew not to know the family ties, or even the national origins, of seamen aboard ship.7 Rebecca also reflected her lack of understanding of maritime realities when she related that his death was unexpected to her. As W. Jeffrey Bolster notes, only mining had higher mortality rates in the nineteenth century. Lloyd’s of London suggested that, in 1852, the population of seamen decreased by 8.75 percent due to casualties.8 Rebecca took the time to meditate on the troubles of life in her July 2 journal entry: We live today, mingle with those around us in the various pursuits of life, tomorrow die, and are forgotten. Yes! Life is strange and full of mystery, even to ourselves. We delight not to meditate on things so serious a nature untill by unforeseen circumstances, we are obliged to. It will be our turn soon, and as we live in this world, so shall we prepare ourselves to live Forever, in Heaven or Hell.9

Her mood was black as she recorded Folger’s burial, which left her with “feelings of deep and penetrating sorrow,” not just because one of “our Ship’s company” was dead, but also because, as she said, “Never did I feel so completely paralised” as when William returned from the Forecastle and told the first mate that Folger had died. Funerals at sea were always wrenching experiences. As Joan Druett notes, “It was decidedly not romantic to be buried at sea” where one would not have a grave to mark one’s passing.10 Generally the captain would read prayers and try to slow down the ship as much as possible, and the crew sewed the body in a bag, often with weights attached. Like other Victorians, mariners wanted a true burial site, and the weights were an attempt to at least secure the body in the ocean. Maritime historian Marcus Rediker pointed out what often happened to the bodies, however, when he recorded the story of a dozen sharks circling the ship after the cook’s body had been tossed overboard, which must have horrified the crew.11 Death at sea was common enough that the crew of the Challenger had probably been through such maritime burials before Folger’s death, but the funeral must have brought the uncertainties of maritime life home to Rebecca in a particularly disturbing way. Challenges and Transitions

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Rebecca tried to use this experience as a lesson to increase her faith: “May God grant that it may be a warning to all of us to be prepared to meet our sure and final doom, for death awaits us all.”12 This unexpected event had a tremendous impact on Rebecca. She dedicated two whole pages in her journal to describing the burial and ruminating on the implications of Folger’s death. It almost seems as if Rebecca finally recognized the tremendous danger maritime life presented, and she was using this sailor’s death to illustrate the necessity of being “prepared” to die at any moment. She also made the significant assertion that soon “we” must live in “Heaven or Hell.” Rebecca had always been aware of death and had noted its presence in her life, but these entries position her as a character increasingly aware not only of her own mortality but of her own moral state as unsure. The next Sunday, as she remarked about the continuing weather problems, including strong head winds, she made sure to place the long voyage in perspective. Although she mentioned that the terrible weather made her “glad to return to the Cabin, and sympathise with William, on our unfortunate position,” she tried to take the weather in stride. She mentioned that her twentyfirst birthday passed quietly, and that she was grateful for the blessings she perceived. As she wrote: “May I be truly thankful to God, that he grants us health, and may we remember, that although we might have enjoyed ourselves better with a fair wind and pleasant weather many, many have not the comforts that I enjoy every day.”13 This admonition to herself signaled a turn in her journal to one of the lowest points we have in evidence. Rebecca’s journal entries depict a woman who questioned her faithfulness and her position on board the ship. In one, she wrote again of her thankfulness that the smallpox did not sweep through the ship and that the wind had favored the ship for the week, but she noted, “O the goodness of God to man, is boundless, and how little do we appreciate it; May I strive to love God more and more and feel a grateful heart to him daily, for the innumerable blessings I enjoy.” She clearly felt that she was not acting faithfully enough, as she closed this entry with a prayer: “May God assist me, at all times, to do right is my sincere and earnest wish.”14 Rebecca did not write again for almost a week and a half, and her entry reflected her negative state of mind. It signified one of the darkest places on the voyage for her. Although we do not know what happened between Rebecca and William, her entry revealed serious displeasure at his behavior toward her. She wrote:

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O I am quite tired of this roll and tumble life, and really today I feel almost homesick, it would not do to say so though, for here is my liege lord and master, ready to say, “Why did you come to sea then?” and sure enough, why did I leave my native soil in nature’s most pleasant season, to spend the best days of my existence on old Ocean’s heaving breast, separated from friends, debarred the privilege of mingling in the busy scenes of life? Ah! Love alone. Love, stronger than death. One object dearer than all else. One tie in comparison to which all others is of minor importance, and where that object goes, there will I go also.15

By writing this Rebecca acknowledged several issues: she was homesick and wished she could go home; she sacrificed much to be with her husband; and she had been making this complaint before writing it down, as she provided William’s answer for him and described him in extremely negative terms. This is the first entry where she did not refer to William as her companion or her husband. If he had not figured it out before this entry, William would have understood that something was very wrong when he read these words. Rebecca closed the journal with another faith-based passage, but in this, too, she reflected the deep uncertainty she felt at the time. For the first time she openly questioned her faith: “My thoughts run thus, Am I a Christian? O is it not my duty professing the name to possess the power of religion, O I feel often so cast down.”16 Rebecca may have felt unworthy of her religion because, as she mentioned several days later, she believed that she was not living up to God’s dictates. Was this because she was critical of her husband? Was it because she was trying but not succeeding in accepting the “head winds and calms” with the patience and faithfulness she saw as emblematic for a woman of faith? She does not explain why she was experiencing a crisis of religion, but she was definitely concerned about her Christian state, as she wrote, “Truly time with us all will soon be over, and how does my account stand at the bar of God? Ah! I tremble. Yes, this thought makes me fear, for I do not live as God commands. I am a poor ungrateful wretch, dependant on the bounty of God, professing to live to his glory, and numbered with his people.”17 But, as she explained, she was not among people who could help her to explore and understand her feelings. She continued: “O I would give anything tonight, to be permitted to meet with Christian people, and give vent to the pent up feelings of my heart. Here I am surrounded by those who know not God and not one to direct, guide, or assist me in the ways of Holi-

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ness.” Was this also a message to William? Had William not yet found religion, after all Rebecca’s ministrations to him? In this passage Rebecca defined herself against the rest of the crew and passengers on the ship, which at least suggests her spiritual isolation from those around her. Perhaps Rebecca was reinforcing her feelings of homesickness, for she continually wrote of the circle of friends she enjoyed on days of worship. Rebecca closed the entry with an attempt to reassure herself of her standing with God: “But God will have pity, and forgive the erring one if repentant and trusting. Be this my prayer Lord help me to be thine, wholly thine, forever.”18 But even her faith could not keep her from descending even deeper into sadness as the voyage dragged on; her prose reflected her continual struggle with depression and dissatisfaction. In her next entry Rebecca described the tedium and desperation she felt on board the ship: It is Tuesday, and if I were to attempt to do justice to the day words would fail me. A darker, more gloomy, dismal, dreary, in fact everything but pleasant day, I never observed, and how true it is that our feelings are influenced by the weather. I ought as well attempt to discribe the latter, as convey a correct idea of the desolation and gloom, which shrouds my mind. The morning I spend reading, and to put a finishing stroke to my Ennui I have had a hearty good cry, but this did not seem to put things in a fairer aspect. When I formed the resolution to write the state of my feelings, for I know not whose perusal, requiring of my chair, much effort to keep from a recumbent position. O I have got the “Blues” indeed, and feel real downhearted. But there is always something in the darkest hours to encourage the saddened one, and we have one assurance that is, it will not last always. The great reason for gladness in our case, is a Fair Wind and plenty of it.19

In this entry Rebecca seems to further separate herself and her identity from the maritime world. Earlier journal entries aboard both ships noted Rebecca’s joy at finally facing good weather conditions. But despite her notation of decent weather here, it seems that Rebecca’s focus is really on the first part of the entry, which describes her unhappy state. She also referred directly to a reader—and suggests that she did not know who that reader may be. Was she disingenuous here? Certainly William was reading the journal, because his handwriting describing the particular leg of the trip is at the top of each page. Perhaps Rebecca believed that William was not sufficiently addressing 90

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her fears and worries. In these cases Rebecca’s journals stand as artifacts, perhaps, showing a deepening understanding of the choices she made. Rebecca was now twenty-one and maybe was realizing that her choice to follow the “object of her love” had consequences she had not fully considered. These introspective entries reflect a new facet of Rebecca’s character, one suggesting that she no longer romanticized her decision to be at sea. Rebecca may also have used her journal to compartmentalize her “Blues” in a way that would allow her to cope with the tedium of the voyage. As she herself noted, several months later: “I have seen some lonely hours, and many pleasant ones since leaving Boston. . . . A tedious passage.”20 But if she experienced “many pleasant hours” on board the Challenger, few of those events were recorded in her journal, outside several visits with Marcellus Jackson, the only passenger aboard, and her happy reflections on the Sabbath. Rebecca may have viewed her journal as a method to deal with her sadness in a way that would enable her to continue to function as William’s wife and companion. It is also likely that Rebecca used her journal to record her own journey through trials that tested her Christian nature. Many Victorian women used their journals as a way to improve themselves through introspection. Since one of the many aspects of keeping a diary was to record the progress of salvation and the state of the writer’s soul,21 it makes sense that Rebecca would resemble many other Victorian women in her desire to wrestle with her feelings of religious inadequacy by engaging them on the page. Rebecca’s decline was evident not just in what she wrote but by her lack of entries. From July 31 to September 19 she wrote only two entries—a list of books she had read and an entry noting her continued troubles. In early September she said: “My health is by no means good. I think I missed it very much in coming to sea this one voyage but it is too late now to rectify such a mistake as that.” She hoped that the climate of California would do her some good, but she was concerned about her state: “I am almost frightened to see how poor I am.”22 She suffered from a malady of the eye, and although she admitted that she enjoyed the company of Marcellus Jackson, she was in overall bad health and seemed unhappy. Even her explanation for not writing in her journal revealed her displeasure: It has not been for want of time or inclination, but simply the state of the weather has forced me to remain silent for so long. Indeed it has been quite unpleasant since passing Cape Horn, and the Ship has been in such constant motion I have not ventured to attempt writing. It is today very Challenges and Transitions

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quiet but I do not feel the least like writing for the reason that my pen will not make a mark unless it is a very coarse one, and it makes me feel a little cross to write with a poor pen.23

Apparently at this point in the trip Rebecca was so demoralized that nothing would cheer her, not even the weather conditions that would allow her to commence writing in her journal again.

William’s Turn Rebecca’s absence from narrating the trip, however, is replaced by William’s voice. In fact, Rebecca retained several artifacts from this period which suggest that William also had definite feelings about the negative cast of the voyage. And William’s entries belie Rebecca’s assertions that he had become “calm and submissive” about the state of the weather; indeed, they portray quite the opposite. William had much to deal with—a smallpox outbreak; a very unhappy wife who was making her sentiments quite plain; a tedious and long voyage; and, on August 18, the loss of another sailor, who fell overboard from the fore topsail as he worked, into a sea too rough for the crew to attempt a rescue.24 Perhaps considering all these calamities, William did bear up well. At any rate, the evidence we have from William suggests that he, too, labored under a malaise that affected him greatly. In early August William penned a letter to a friend and possibly a part owner of the ship’s cargo. There is no evidence that he ever sent a copy to Freeman, but Rebecca held onto this letter and donated it as part of her collection. William wrote: Benjamin Freeman Esq. Brewster Dear Sir In compliance with my agreement to you while in Boston as well as with much gratification to myself I improve the present in addressing a few lines to you trusting they may find yours & that of your lady in good health. As you will notice per Lat. & Longitude we are to the Southward & Westward of Cape Horn and I presume you will remark we have been long enough about it we had very light winds to the Equator which we crossed in Longitude 33”24’ West 26 days out from Boston Five days out from Boston two men broke out

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with the small pox in its worst form which as a matter of course created no very pleasant sensations amongst the officers & crew to say nothing of my own having my wife on board however it did not spread much one month out we buried one man since which time we are all on board generaly well with the exceptions of a few Cape Horn fever cases. The Challenger sails fast but has the common great fault She won’t go without wind. I have now given you an idea as regards my whereabouts and as I have nothing of the least importance farther to convey to you at present I will for the present remain silent with the intention of finishing at some future time beging you will excuse all imperfections you may notice in these few remarks as well as those I may hereafter make. I remain Sir Your humble svt William H. Burgess

William’s terse assessment of the voyage mirrors the facts that Rebecca related in her more introspective prose; he quickly ran down the list of troubles incurred since leaving Boston just over two months earlier. He also plainly notes that he was concerned about Rebecca during the smallpox outbreak. Perhaps that is why Rebecca kept this short note; it suggests proof that William still worried about her and her state of health, despite what Rebecca was writing about missing home and regretting taking the voyage. William’s journal entries also reflect his concerns with the voyage. He noted on August 13, “Commences with disagreeable weather and ends the same.”25 Several days later he complained that the weather continued to be a burden: “Well, it is a very disagreable, and uncomfortable day. It rains, rains all of the time.”26 William sketched a tree underneath this statement—was he, like Rebecca, yearning for life on land? Several weeks later, he seemed more pleased with the ship’s location and situation: A very pleasant day it has been and it is a very delightfull Evening All on board seem to enjoy it much We have passed through many unpleasant scenes since leaving Boston and some very unpleasant weather We are now anxiously looking forward to the termination of our passage to San Francisco where should we be fortunate enough to arrive we shall expect to hear from those we have kindly left at home I hope we may not be disappointed.27

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William may have sounded optimistic in this entry, but he changed his tone just two days later: “A tedious time we have had of it thus far and we now labor under the happy impression that we shall be beaten on the passage by every other ship sailing at or about the same time.”28 The mercurial William betrayed his feelings with this passage; he might have displayed a calm demeanor to Rebecca (or she may have seen what she wanted to see), but he fretted over the weather. The length of the journey was weighing heavily on his heart and mind. That was not all that concerned William. At the same time he penned an entry on a piece of paper that Rebecca saved and donated. In it, he remarked that all was well with the crew and ship: “All on board the good Ship Challenger seem to enjoy [the day] much I am pleased to see them happy as regards myself I am master of a fine ship and in good employ a good crew and good officers and it is now pleasant weather. Still I have much on my mind and have ever since I was twelve years of age I am now 26 years of age.”29 William was happy with his crew as he wondered where the ship would go after landing in San Francisco,30 but in this writing we see a more reflective side of the man. We cannot know what William “had on his mind,” but perhaps he was troubled by the duration of the voyage and his wife’s unhappiness. As the only son and the eldest of three siblings, perhaps William’s sense of responsibility began at a young age. He may have felt burdened with the problems on the voyage, and perhaps he was consoling himself by recording a day in which everyone on board seemed happy and satisfied. In truth, the captain was the dictator aboard the ship, and so he had much power and much responsibility. He controlled the crew, but he also had to make sure that the crew was safe and healthy. Whether on a whaler, a naval vessel, or a merchantman, captains wielded authority but ultimately answered to the owners for the state of the ship, the crew, and the cargo.31 More remarkable is why Rebecca saved this note: Did she see this as a foreshadowing of events to come? Later in her life, Rebecca inscribed and repeated a memory in her journals claiming that William knew he was going to die before his twenty-seventh birthday, and perhaps Rebecca took this note as proof of her memories. We cannot know how many notes William wrote, but Rebecca may have believed that this one was prophetic enough to donate, as it would support her story of his premonitions of early death.

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Rebecca: Coming to Terms with Decisions and Regrets William’s entries in the journal end for the most part with Rebecca’s reemergence in late September. The trip dragged on; they were still on the way to San Francisco and were 108 days out on the trip with no sign of entry into port at any time. Rebecca’s tone had not changed, although she noted that she had made a decision she would later rescind. On September 19 she wrote: “It has been a long time since I have taken my pen to write in my journal and indeed I have written very little during this passage. . . . We are very unfortunate in making a passage, and it seems very tiresome to me.”32 Rebecca had also made a decision about her identity; she made a complete break from that woman who loved the freedom of being on the sea. In fact, her entry suggests that she no longer had any positive feelings about her decision at all: Well a long passage will inevitably be our luck. I am very anxious to get to San Francisco as my health is not good at all, and I am fully convinced the Sea does not suit my constitution. I feel at times very sorrowful at discontinuing my plan of going the voyage around with my beloved Husband, and returning to my native home from San Francisco, “across the Isthmus,” to regain my health. O can I leave him who is my all, my Dearest earthly friend and can I relinquish all my cherished hopes of accompanying him in his future voyages. If it is God’s will, let this be my only ambition, to do what is in the interest of us both.33

Rebecca also noted that, although in the past she had difficulty writing because of the ship’s motion, now she could barely write because her illness had made her very weak. She had a cold and was hoarse. She had applied a mustard plaster on herself, and she could not bend over to write.34 This entry is the first in which Rebecca detailed her illness and her determination to return home. Although she still gave voice to her concern over leaving William, her own health and happiness appeared foremost in her mind when writing this. Rebecca described her actions in a way that seemed as if she were all alone in her misery. This narrative of her cold is a far cry from the one in which she described William as “complete in sickness” during her “honeymoon.” The picture Rebecca painted here is one in which she had to take care of herself, which impeded one of her few pastimes, writing in the journal. Considering that William had said only ten days before that all aboard enjoyed health and were generally happy, Rebecca’s entry begs the Challenges and Transitions

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question of whether William either understood or acknowledged Rebecca’s troubles. Certainly he would have been aware of her situation after reading this entry. As Rebecca wrote in her journal, the ship had passed Cape Horn and was headed north up the Pacific toward its intended port. In her next entry, Rebecca determined that she would write more and also mentioned that “I work up the Time altogether. William gives up that part to me, and I like it very much.”35 She claimed that she was also pleased with William’s behavior during the long voyage. She wrote: It is all for our good. Man must make the best use of the gifts of god but not murmer. William is so much better than when in the Whirlwind, I cannot be too thankful. He seems to control his feelings perfectly, and he does not use profane language at all. I am so much happier to see him govern that naturally hasty disposition. May he ever retain this strong will, to resist temptation. O how much he must suffer in his mind, while thinking of the long passage we are making. May he receive strength from above.36

Still, Rebecca had second thoughts about the voyage. She remained convinced that her illness was made worse by her being on the ship, and she wrote of her regret at not listening to those who advised against her travels. She worried about her health and wrote, “O I want to get on shore once more. I feel weaker every day. If I had listened to the kind admonitions of my friends and remained at home this voyage how much better it would have been. My punishment is just and I have the proper reward for my wilfulness. May I in the future be more consistent, and less hasty in my conduct.”37 One can only imagine how William was reacting to Rebecca’s new attitude. Her journal presents a character far different from the one the reader encounters aboard the Whirlwind. Gone was the woman who wrote of her love for the sea and her desire to be with her husband, no matter where he traveled. In her stead was a character who seemed ill and homesick, and who felt that she was suffering a divine punishment for going against the advice of her kin. William was still perusing this book, as many of the following pages contain his log abstract for the entire trip. How must he have felt knowing that Rebecca had now completely changed her affiliation from sea to land? Maybe William started to comment to Rebecca about the tone in her journal, or perhaps Rebecca reread the entries and determined to narrate in a more positive voice, but no matter what the reason, merely a week after she 96

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wrote the above entry, yet again she changed the tenor of her prose. Though she continued to discuss her poor health, she did note an improvement. She also sent a message to William about her delight in his behavior: O it is very tedious to be laying in this place, day after day with a head wind, and counting each one as they pass. . . . Is it not too bad? I do pity William so, for he will have it all thrown on his shoulders, and I am sure he cannot help it. . . . William bears it nobly and is entirely different from what he was the last voyage in the Whirlwind, when he used to give vent to his feelings rather strong sometimes. I can hardly realize it when I remember his quick passionate disposition. But I thank God that it is so, and trust he may always be so.38

She also sounded a bit like the “old Rebecca” when she wrote: “O I do pray that I may regain my health. I love to go to Sea so much. I believe I could be contented any where if permitted to share my beloved William’s society.”39 This is the last entry Rebecca penned before reaching San Francisco. Perhaps her health had improved enough for her to enjoy the voyage again, or maybe she understood that the trip would end soon. Whatever happened, this series of entries clearly demonstrates that Rebecca was using her journal to recast her relationships—with the sea and with her husband. She was struggling to decide what to do next, whether to leave the ship and return home or stay with her “beloved William.” She ultimately decided to continue on the journey, but her prose in this section of the Challenger journal suggests that she did not make the decision lightly.

Lingering Troubles On November 9 Rebecca and William set off for Hong Kong via Honolulu, carrying a cargo of 350 Chinese passengers returning home after laboring in the West.40 This voyage lasted only forty days, which was quite speedy compared to Rebecca’s previous voyage, and she wrote only four entries during this trip. While she described some pleasures she experienced in her life, these scant entries suggested that Rebecca continued to record the events most troubling to her. She missed San Francisco, and she noted that “I enjoyed myself during the 26 Days we lay at that port, as much as it is possible for the human mind to enjoy this world’s gifts.”41 She still voiced how much she missed the land, but she registered her pleasure with the passengers on board; Marcellus Jackson continued on the trip, and a gentleman Challenges and Transitions

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with his wife and a Chinese man also shared the cabins. She was also relieved that her health was much improved since the previous trip.42 Rebecca did not write much on the voyage to China. Still, what she did pen betrayed the fact that she remained unhappy with her general situation. Rebecca’s entries focused on what she perceived to be her failures as a Christian. She felt bereft with the state of her faith; she prayed: I thank my God that he has spared my unprofitable life to this day. Often seated by myself, I love to review my past life, and see the many instances of the goodness of God to me, and as at this time thoughts of my own sinfulness, and disobedience, rush into my mind. I feel to be the most wicked person in the world. I feel tonight not fit to live. . . . My life should be a happy one. No cares oppress, let me realize it, but imaginary troubles sometimes come, unasked. I am thinking now of the loved ones at home. Do they miss me?43

Although Rebecca did not record an event that made her feel so downhearted about her faith, she was obviously continuing to use her journal to cope with some of her darkest feelings. Perhaps those “imaginary troubles” had to do with letters she received from home, which may have sparked feelings of homesickness; she was still thinking often of the people she left behind. Maybe William said or did something to cause Rebecca to close this entry with the words “we praise thee our Father for all thy gifts to man, sinful, fallen Man.”44 As noted, Rebecca did not write often on the trip and the entries she made were much shorter. One event, however, claimed the largest entry during this period—another death of a sailor. Frederic D. Morgan was working on the main top mast rigging and fell through the mainsail, injuring himself on the spars; when he hit the water, he went down too fast to be saved. Rebecca claimed in her journal that she liked Morgan very much, and she memorialized him in this way: Poor fellow, he has gone. In a moment hurried from time into Eternity. He was a lovely youth and O how much would I sacrifise to bring him back to life! Now as I think of the pleasure in store for me, arriving at a new port, and that port to which I have long wished to come, a cloud comes over my mind, and Ah! Where is our favorite? Ah, the question is repeated where? We trust he is in that better land. It is a warning to us all! Be ready to die, for when are we safe. By his letters we learn that the deceased has a Sister living in Boston, to whom I shall write. 98

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O I loved that young man. He was a very interesting youth of 20 years. May he be at rest with God is my desire. How uncertain is life! And yet how unmindful we are of death.45

Morgan’s death made quite an impact on Rebecca. But why would Rebecca fashion a connection to the sailor? Captain’s wives rarely spoke to the seamen aboard ship, outside of the cook, steward, and officers. And on this journey Rebecca had more passengers to socialize with than she ever had before, which would have kept her busy—and away from the seamen and their work. How had Rebecca come to know this young man? Why did she not narrate a story about him, as she had done with several sailors aboard the Whirlwind? Is it possible that Rebecca constructed a closer relationship with Morgan than existed, because his death threw into stark reality her fear that she was not prepared to meet some final judgment should she be lost at sea? This entry provides a fascinating look into Rebecca’s psyche at the time. She had long since abandoned making narrative connections with the sailors aboard the ship, so this entry stands out. It appears that, in death, Morgan may have served as a reminder to Rebecca of her perceived shortcomings, and, as such, she perceived a relationship with him that was closer than it really was while Morgan was alive. The Challenger finally arrived in Hong Kong on December 19 and sailed up the Pearl River to Whampoa, or Huangpu, on Christmas Day, and then continued up to Canton, where the seamen weighed anchor. Canton was a busy city. Rebecca got her chance to visit this place as the Challenger loaded up on tea to transport to London, the ship’s next stop. Its streets were crowded with shops selling silk and jade, Chinese porcelains, and food. Although the streets were generally clean, the shopkeepers, street vendors, and peddlers created a din of noise. There was much poverty in Canton, so Rebecca would have seen many beggars on the streets. She might have also been surprised by the dearth of foreign women in the region. Most of the foreign merchants’ wives lived in Macao, and so most foreigners she would have encountered were men.46 Rebecca had written many times that she had been looking forward to visiting China, but her first entry noted her disappointment in the region: “I do not like this place at all, and feel no regret in leaving it. . . . This is a disagreeable place in my estimation.”47 Upon reflection, she admitted that part of the reason she did not enjoy her stay was because “I had formed too exalted opinions of the place and people.” She was upset that no hotels were available “where a lady could stop,” probably because so few foreign Challenges and Transitions

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women traversed the city’s streets. Rebecca found in Canton (Guangzhu) “nothing to attract save the Chinese Curios.” She enjoyed her stay at a residence belonging to William’s friend (and probably shipping agent for the company William worked for), but she could recommend nothing else to visit. She closed her reflections on China with a negative assessment of a Chinese laundrywoman who did not iron Rebecca’s clothing to her standards: “I should not like to stop long in China, they are too ignorant to suit me. Huzza for London. I am glad we are away, although my time was spent rather pleasantly. May I profit by all things that fall under my observation.”48 Unlike other travelers, however, Rebecca’s litany of disappointments was just a new strain in the ongoing theme of her journal, and contradicted her own words which suggested that she actually had spent a “pleasant time” in the Celestial Empire. Given that she admitted to enjoying herself on the trip, why did Rebecca focus on her problems with the region? Her writings here reveal more than just a typical trope repeated in middle-class women’s travel diaries; it appears almost as if Rebecca had developed a pattern of recording negative thoughts. The character that emerges from her prose in this part of the voyage suggests a woman who remained unhappy with her lot, despite the adventures she experienced. She may have looked forward to arriving in London, but, once again, the Challenger faced a troubled journey. Less than one month into the voyage, Rebecca recorded a disturbing event that would continue to plague the ship; death by dysentery. She noted in her journal that James O’Niel left nothing to describe his national origin, and that he “has been sick since leaving Whampoa, and was reduced to a skeleton.”49 Rebecca used O’Niel’s death to reflect yet again on the tragedy of being sick or dying at sea: How sad the thought is to die, in a strange land and among strange people, but ah how sad to die on Shipboard. Indeed the Sailor’s lot is a singular one. A life spent on old Ocean’s bosom, and often he finds it his long home. O that I may not share the fate of the many and be at rest beneath the swelling tide. The Deceased had probably followed the Sea from early youth. Of his history we know nothing, but we know his death was easy. Like an infant dropping to sleep. . . .O my God spare me this painful spectacle of witnessing the consignment of a once animate and breathing creature to a watery grave.50

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Like Morgan, O’Niel forced Rebecca to ponder death and the trials of life at sea. Another event caused Rebecca concern; her journal entry on the rumored wreck of the Highflyer, which was reported lost at sea with three hundred Chinese passengers, the captain and his wife, the crew, and several cabin passengers, takes on an agitated tone. In the entry Rebecca hoped that the rumors were not true, for the idea of hundreds “sacrificed to the Ocean god” upset her tremendously.51 One week later she continued to reflect on O’Niel’s funeral. Though noting that all aboard the ship appeared in good health, and that she had enjoyed visiting with the captain of a whaling ship several weeks before after encountering the vessel and “speaking it up,”52 O’Niel’s death haunted her. She wrote: “One week ago today the lifeless remains of one of our company were consigned to a watery grave. Sad indeed is it to see one of our number thus taken from us, truly we know not what an hour may bring forth.”53 Rebecca’s entries identify her during this period as a woman truly concerned with the state of her soul; she was convinced that she needed to be prepared to die. Her introspections portray her as a woman who believed that death could come at any moment, and given the maritime conditions of the nineteenth century, she was not terribly wrong. Though noting that the weather had improved for a while and the ship was making progress after being out from China six weeks, the general tone of her journal remained negative. Rebecca continued to focus on the troubles plaguing her and the crew. She recorded that a number of men were sick, with at least one showing signs of dysentery, and although they seemed to get better in the following week, her narrative suggests that sickness would continue to haunt the ship. She would also lose her pet canaries, to which she commented: “I miss them very much. They sang so prettily all the day.” And to add to the concern of those aboard the ship, William found himself engaged in a race with the English clipper Invincible. William liked the captain, with whom he had visited during a calm on the ocean, but as he noted in Rebecca’s journal, “I wish her good luck but I certainly want to get there, as soon as the Invincible, so hoping we may I will close my remarks for the day.”54 Rebecca recorded good news when it happened; she felt that the ship was making good time, and she enjoyed her own fine health, to which she attributed eating one dozen eggs a day. She reflected on the excellent weather as the ship sailed north from the Cape of Good Hope, “It is always pleasant to write when we have a fair wind, and at the present it is delightful weather, plenty warm, and very comfortable.”55

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But Rebecca was not always aware of troubles in the forecastle, and so she registered surprise in her journal when the crew lost yet another sailor, John Kingley, a native of Pennsylvania, to dysentery. Rebecca concluded: “It seems that we are indeed unfortunate this voyage, and only since leaving Anger as we have buried two men, both died of the same disease Dysentery. On the voyage from Boston to San Francisco we lost one man from aloft and one died while jambed on the coast of B.” It was not lost on Rebecca that there had been no loss of life aboard the Whirlwind, and thus far the Challenger had lost five sailors, which she mentioned in this entry. She also proffered a medical opinion when she blamed his death on stealing “food too hearty,” which she believed aggravated his dysentery.56 But Rebecca spent the majority of this entry ruminating yet again on the fate of oceangoers: How sad the thought to die in a strange land and among strange people, but ah how sad to die on shipboard. Indeed the Sailor’s lot is a singular one. A life spent on old Ocean’s bosom, and often he finds it his long home. O that I may not share the fate of the many and be at rest beneath the sea & be at rest beneath the swelling tide. . . . Does this solemn warning have its proper effect on our hearts. I fear it is too soon forgotten. But I my God spare me this painful spectacle of witnessing the consignment of a once animate and breathing creature to a watery grave. “Thy will not mine be done, though God’s providences are afflicting. He doeth all things well.”57

This entry signaled Rebecca’s sign-off from the journal for another ten days. When she commenced writing again, Rebecca generally provided a narrative and commentary on the situation of the ship, discussing the crossing of the equator just seventy-four days out from China and noting that the voyage had gone well. She praised the good quality of water in the ship’s tank, the lovely weather and beautiful nights, and the smooth sailing. She did the wash, exercised with her dumbbells, read and wrote letters to friends at home, and watched the crew catch sharks.58 Rebecca and William caught up on the latest news when William “spoke up” and boarded the Isaiah Crowell which had left Boston two weeks prior. Receiving news must have been nice, but, according to William, “what was of the most consequence to us was a few nice apples and potatoes which we got from the said ship.”59 Again, however, Rebecca left off writing for two weeks. We do not know what transpired, but William continued to fill the journal with log-like entries until April 13, when he penned a letter directly to Rebecca:

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Dear Wife It is indeed as you say lonesome dreary weather and you have since leaving your home, and kind friends, seen many unpleasant times and I trust some few pleasant ones but you have one consolation that if nothing happens it will be but a short time ere we shall arrive at our destined port and then should the ship and your husband go on another long voyage you can have the way and means of in a short time meeting with your friends at home and when their surrounded by all of your friends except one who will be absent at sea you will be able to form but a slight idea of a lonesome night at sea and all alone. Written by William when you was with me Your husband William H. Burgess60

What might Rebecca have said to evince such a response from William: a letter written to her in her own journal? She must have been homesick, as William remarked on her possible desire to leave him in London. William almost seemed to feel rather sorry for himself, and he appeared almost petulant when he suggested that she would not understand the idea of “a lonesome night at sea and all alone,” since she would be surrounded by her friends. William needed reassurance that Rebecca was happy and satisfied, and he received this when she finally wrote back to him in response to his letter: To William As you wrote nearly Two weeks ago, it is lonesome, disagreeable weather, and it seems a great distance to port yet. I do cincerly wish to get to London. Although our passage has not been very long yet it seems a great while, and I know that you are anxious to get in. You speak of the privilege I have of returning home if the Ship goes on a long voyage from London. This is a blessing I have great reasons to be thankful for both as it regards, the mode of conveyance, and the means. My Dear Husband, we have now been together for 2 years and 6 months with scarcely a week’s separation, and even the thought of remaining alone is repulsive. I must allow there are pleasures on the land, which cannot be enjoyed at Sea, but I have enjoyed luxuries, in company with you William, that bereft of that companionship would bring no happiness. I know that I love the Sea, but more I love to be with my Husband.

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I have just come in the Cabin, from on deck, and I could not help saying to myself, How lonely William would be without me with him. I really hope it may not be our lot to be separated. I enjoy going to Sea, because I have my husband. With him my place is home. I feel I trust thankful that it is my happy privilege to go with him, and it is my prayer, to go where he goes.61

Though Rebecca had echoed these sentiments on many occasions, she had not reiterated her desire to be wherever William was going since July 1855. Since that time she had written of her regret at having gone on the voyage, of her sacrifice to be with her husband, and of her homesickness. Not once did she use the language so often found in the Whirlwind journal and in earlier Challenger passages for nine months, in which she focused on her love of the maritime world. Did William fear that Rebecca was losing her desire to be by his side, and possibly her desire for him? William certainly suggested that Rebecca was yet again considering leaving, and in fact leaving at this juncture would have made sense, as Rebecca could have taken a steamer back to New York. The “Black Ball” line had been operating since the first quarter of the century, providing direct service from New York to London. From there Rebecca could easily take a train to Boston. Rebecca, however, directly answered his concerns by reverting back to language she had not used in a very long time. By penning this letter, Rebecca reconstructed her persona as a completely devoted wife, happy to be wherever her husband was going, because that was her only home. Rebecca appeared to be fairly strong-willed, but this letter suggests a capitulation on her part. We cannot know her motives; perhaps she wanted to reassure William of her love, or maybe she feared his wrath or an emotional or physical separation from him. Whatever the cause, Rebecca definitely reverted back to her previous persona, reflected in her subsequent passages, where she described the ship’s entry into England and William’s activities in getting the ship ready for port. Once the ship neared England, Rebecca and William both became anxious to reach port. Rebecca described William’s concern as he watched ships entering the English Channel: “William is going to sit up the most of the night. He is very nervous, and anxious to get in. He has been walking the poop deck all day, and watching the Ships, coming in and out of the Channel, and some like ourselves bound in.” Rebecca continued to be worried about the length of the voyage, as she noted several days later, “I hope we may overtake the Invincible yet. She passed the Isle of Wight 12 hours before 104

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us Saturday night.”62 The ship finally arrived in London on April 29, much to the relief of both Rebecca and William, but she did not say whether they had beaten the other ship.63 Rebecca had her opportunity to spend several months in England. As she expected, she enjoyed her sightseeing trips in London. She made new friends including George Bartlett, who gave her a new ship’s log to record chronometer readings and with whom she went sightseeing to the Derby races in Epsom. A Mr. and Mrs. Grant gave Rebecca two guidebooks on London and accompanied the Burgesses on several trips.64 The ship did not leave port until June 11, with a crew of thirty-six healthy men, bound for the Chincha Islands to pick up a load of guano, a fertilizer made from bird droppings that they would transport to Le Havre, France.65

From Bad to Worse: Tragedy at Sea As much as Rebecca enjoyed her travels in England, one fact dampened the trip: William’s health began to deteriorate. Once back on board the Challenger and en route to Callao, Peru, Rebecca noted, “William is not well at all. He has been sick during our stay in London, and is now recovering though very slowly. It really seemed too bad that he should be confined by sickness in port, when we are at Sea so much.” She blamed his continuing weakness on the doctor William visited in London, whom she claimed poisoned William with mercury.66 While sailing to Callao, Rebecca remembered that “William’s sickness occasioned constant uneasiness, and sorrow.” Rebecca believed that William suffered “inflammation of the liver,” and his illness was severe enough to delay the launch of the Challenger by two weeks.67 Even after several weeks at sea, Rebecca wrote in her ship’s log that “William is not so well, and is confined to his room today.”68 William finally recovered, Rebecca thought, but she noticed that he still “feels the affect of Mercury in his bones,” even months after the treatment.69 William’s illness was not the only source of concern for Rebecca. A continuing problem for the Challenger was the bad weather and head winds that again hampered the voyage. William and Rebecca both described the problems. Rebecca revealed her nautical sensibilities with the comment, “It is truly a pity the wind will not haul so as to give us a slant.” Months later calms still plagued the ship. William wrote, “During the above mentioned 90 days, we have had a poor opportunity of getting along and are sure of making a long passage to Callou.”70 Rebecca also missed her friends, and she waxed nostalgic on her birthday in 1856, wondering how her friends spent Challenges and Transitions

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the Fourth of July. She also registered her concern for the state of the nation, which was moving quickly in the 1850s toward a crisis over slavery: “May we as a Nation see many returns of this happy day, and God grant that the threatening clouds now hanging over the Nation, may be swept away, and nought ever occur in our Nation’s history, to cause a feeling, save happy pride, on the 4th of July.”71 Rebecca’s last entry in this journal before reaching the Chincha Islands reflected the share of troubles she had seen aboard the ship on its long passage around the world: “I am tired of being at Sea, and O how I want to see something green, and eat something too. . . . We are all tired of being at Sea.”72 Rebecca’s sign-off from the Challenger journal is significant. She noted many times that writing was important to her, providing a sense of enjoyment and recreation. She often chastised herself for failing to write more frequently, and most of her entries are at least a page long. She wrote when she had the leisure to do so, and so it seems that by mid-September Rebecca no longer had the ability or desire to take the time to sit and reflect on herself and her life; William may have just been too ill to enable her to write at her leisure. Although Rebecca either lacked the time or inclination to pen long entries, she did keep a ship’s log for much of the remainder of the journey. We cannot know if this became the official log or whether the first mate was also keeping a record, as was typical aboard ship. But true to the form of a log, the entries were terse and kept to a minimum, recording mainly the ship’s positioning and progress, and any unusual events that occurred on the date. Rebecca made several editorial notations about William’s health, but that could well have been part of her attempt to record the status of captain and crew. In this artifact, Rebecca takes on a businesslike tone. Every day she faithfully kept the chronometer time, and recorded the weather, wave conditions, miles sailed, and calculations. She noted that despite gloomy and extremely squally weather, the ship finally arrived in Callao on September 20. She visited Lima while the ship was refitted with a new chronometer. Although Rebecca recorded, “All right on board the Challenger,” she made an ominous notation: “William kept to his room all Day, not feeling well.”73 Rebecca continued to receive and make visits while in port for a week, and she hoped for a “speedy run to the Islands” to pick up guano.74 William continued to fare poorly on this trip. Rebecca made a short notation three days out of port: “Capt. Burgess is not well. He is troubled with the Dysentery.” It is possible that William, weakened by the mer106

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cury given to him in London, could not fight off this dreaded disease.75 When the ship anchored off the Chincha Islands on October 1, William remained in bed, suffering from “chronic diarrhea,” according to Rebecca’s log.76 Rebecca continued to write of daily activities at the Chincha Islands, and her short notations betray her concern for William. First of all, her tone became almost too businesslike—never had she called William “Capt. Burgess” until the ship docked at the islands, and she continued using that moniker for almost a month, when she noted that “William is a little better” and on November 2 when she wrote that “William went on deck for the first time in Eight days.”77 After this, she continued using William’s given name. Did Rebecca start using formalities because she assumed that her log would have to serve as the official record of the trip, as William was so seriously ill? Did she use “Capt. Burgess” to try to detach herself emotionally from William so that she could perform her perceived duty to maintain this log? No matter what the cause, her prose definitely changed. Rebecca’s log also suggests that the Challenger continued to face problems that may well have exacerbated William’s illness. She wrote on October 9: “Lost a launch during the night. Mr. Winsor [the first mate] took the boat and was gone 12 hours. Returned at 9 P.M. saying that after pulling 15 miles he found it and towed it within 5 miles but could stand the fatigue no longer without water or food.”78 Several days later the situation went from bad to worse, as Rebecca recorded: “Last Sunday night 7 of the men belonging to the ship Challenger stole a launch belonging to the Peruvian Bark, moored next to us, and ran away. Nothing has been heard of them since.”79 These short entries speak volumes. Was William so sick that he was losing control over his ship and crew? Certainly he was not able to command as capably as he had before the ship docked at the islands. Although Rebecca made no editorials at all regarding these incidents, the narration portends that this voyage was not going to end well. Rebecca’s log book suggests nothing of the turmoil she must have been feeling at the time. In October and November she recorded the amount of guano loaded onto the ship, the time spent at the islands, and the visits from other ship captains and their wives. She noted changes in William’s health, suggesting that he might have been getting better in early November and continuing to document his improvements through November 19, when she wrote that “William is not so well since Sunday.”80 Three days later she wrote “Sailed from Chinchas at 4 P.M. Capt. Baker took the Ship out. William is much better. A great many Captains came on board. ‘Good Bye’ Chinchas.”81 Challenges and Transitions

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Although Rebecca did not accompany this statement with any editorial, her tone appears to be one of relief. For the first time in many weeks, she seemed optimistic about William’s health and the state of the voyage. For the next several days Rebecca continued to take and record nautical measurements, and she often added one line about William, documenting the stages of his illness. On November 25 she wrote: “William is quite unwell again, complains of soreness.” The next day she wrote: “William is better, and is out today. All the rest well.” But William’s health was not improved, and the following day Rebecca wrote: “I suppose, it is ‘Thanksgiving Day’ at home. William is so unwell we have not kept it, as usual in having extra dinners &tc. William is quite unwell. Very weak.” The last documentation of William’s illness is Rebecca’s November 29 entry: “William is very sick, and ought to be on shore.”82 Rebecca’s last record of this voyage is on November 30, and all she managed to do was calculate a few chronometer readings. From this artifact, one cannot fathom what happened to the voyage, or to William and Rebecca. To gain an understanding of what occurred next, the reader must rely on Rebecca’s recollections, written in the Challenger journal on December 21: By the assistance of God’s grace I am enabled to make the effort to pen a few of my thoughts to paper. I am truly in deep affliction, and although it brings every past scene so vividly to my mind to look again at my journal, I feel in writing I may find that relief which reading or conversation cannot afford. . . . How can I realize my situation on board of this Steamer bound to the United States, and where, O where, is my dear Husband? Can I be calm, Is it possible for me to restrain my feelings, when every passing breeze seems to whisper “Alone.” . . . Him to whom I pledged my youthful heart, for whom I left Parents and my native country, is now no more of earth. William, my Dear Husband, Let me devote the remainder of my days on earth, in cherishing thy memory, and may I strive by the grace of God to follow out thy dying injunction, “May we meet in Heaven.” William, dear William, no one knows my feelings. I can never love the things of earth, but I will strive to meet you in the better land. Be this my aim, the whole object of my existence. . . . O what should I now have to console me, were not God in my thoughts. This Date.— Thursday, December 11, A.D. 1856 Latitude, 33’02 South. Longitude, 71’41’ West. 19 Days from Chincha Islands, 250 miles from Valparaiso 108

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At 11 P.M. My Dear Husband Departed this world, apparrently at peace with his Maker, and in no pain. His age 27 years, 9 months, & 14 Days. The Challenger arrived at Valparaiso, Saturday, December 13, and on Sunday the remains of my beloved William were interred in the “Pantheon,” receiving Christian burial, the service performed by an Episcopal Clergyman.83

Rebecca’s shifting persona, recorded so frequently in the journal William read, caused tension in her relationship with William, who finally addressed her unhappiness directly. Despite this tension, however, Rebecca’s ship log suggests her concern over William’s illness, and her first entry after William’s death defines her as a woman who was truly broken over her loss. One line of that entry, however, suggests her decision about how to fashion her future: “William, my Dear Husband, Let me devote the remainder of my days on earth, in cherishing thy memory.”84 The chapters of Rebecca’s maritime life were effectively closed, and she recognized that well. But a new identity began to emerge with her first entry penned after she disembarked from the Challenger—that of grieving widow. It would be as the “captain’s widow” that Rebecca would begin to build her legacy back home in Sandwich.

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5 A New Era, a New Narrative

boston, september 15th a.d. 1857 [across from william’s last log entry] sunday One year ago today, my Husband penned the lines in my journal on the opposite page. Yes! These were his last lines. One year ago this Evening I was writing, too, in this book. Ah! how frail is man; As a shadow, we pass away. I sit me down this afternoon to muse on the past. And I am thinking of William—Thinking of his sickness—Thinking of his death. Did we think one year ago today while we were penning our thoughts in my journal that one of our number would soon be taken? Did it enter my beloved Husband’s mind that in three months from that day he would be consigned to the silent grave in a foreign clime! I am lonely, lonely. How can it be, I sometimes think that I have lived to see so much sorrow. . . . William thou hast gone before. I take this book, containing so many of thy sentiments, I peruse the same—then with silent mien I ponder upon each thought. All of thy sentiments penned in this book, were written in my presence, and the feelings expressed whether of joy or sorrow, were shared by me, thy loving Companion, also. William I live now in the past. The future is a sealed book, but the past is ever before me, and memory is ever busy calling up the happy moments of my life passed in my cherished Husband’s society. . . . William from thy home above, art thou still breathing this prayer, as so oft in life: “God bless thee.” Rebecca1

Left alone in Valparaiso, Chile, with only the Challenger’s steward, David Graves, to accompany her home, Rebecca faced still more trouble in her life. Having spent the past two years almost entirely in William’s company, Rebecca now looked toward to what she perceived to be a bleak and lonely future. Since |

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she made a promise never to marry again, the young woman perhaps saw nothing before her but solitude. The twenty-two-year old woman’s writings suggest that she was overcome by despondent feelings immediately upon William’s passing, and she recorded these feelings for years after William’s death. Rebecca continued to write in the last journal that contained William’s notations, and she persistently recorded feelings of grief and despair, most often in association with the date of William’s death. Rebecca experienced serious loss at a young age, and she used her journals to cope with the grief she felt. Margo Culley’s extensive study of women’s diaries finds that widowhood is among several events that create a discontinuity in a woman’s life— she ceases to be the person she was before her husband’s death. Through keeping a record of her life story, a woman could maintain continuity and community.2 By coping in this way—writing in her journal—Rebecca continued to fashion a connection to William through the deep feelings she felt for him throughout her life. In this way Rebecca was not unlike other young widows in the Victorian era. Psychologist Paul Rosenblatt examined many nineteenth-century diaries and found that the strong sense of grief continued years after the loss of a loved one. He notes that many journal writers focused on a point of specific loss—Rebecca tended to focus on the days surrounding William’s death. He also finds that as the years pass, the recording of grief may be more sporadic but the intensity does not diminish. Often journal keepers recorded feelings of grief on anniversaries, birthdays, and holidays, which Rebecca did. Rosenblatt also found that short marriages tended to elicit greater feelings of grief immediately following the death of a spouse. He suggests that possibly because the partners are younger, or the death unexpected, the living spouse has a harder time dealing with the loss.3 Rebecca’s marriage lasted just over four years, and her inscribed feelings corroborate Rosenblatt’s conclusions. Unlike many Victorian widows, however, Rebecca used the Challenger journal and rituals of public and private mourning in order to construct and reinforce her new identity. She also used her journals to begin creating a narrative about what happened to William in his last days, setting a dramatic scene in which she figured as a prominent actor and the object of William’s undying love.

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Getting Home Rebecca perceived that her role as William’s constant support in his last days would not truly be over until she had successfully returned home with the news of his demise. She also believed it her sacred duty to secure transport for William’s effects and bodily remains. Rebecca kept herself busy and distracted by writing what amounted to a travelogue as she struggled to return home. Her journey began on December 16, 1856, as she embarked on the steamer Bogota to Callao. She then left Callao on December 20 aboard the steamer New Granada. This steamer took her to Panama, where she eventually boarded another steamer to New York. The Illinois embarked on January 19, 1857, and arrived in New York on January 27.4 Throughout this time Rebecca attempted to cope with her situation by remarking on her travels in short, paragraph-long entries describing port cities and listing visits from sympathetic passengers and crew. Rebecca noted stops in Callao, Tarma, Payta, Guayaquil, and Tobago. She stayed at the Aspinwall Hotel in Panama awaiting a steamer on the Atlantic. She often described the prices of fruit, the business of the ports, and the kinds of boats inhabitants used. Rebecca also took the time to judge the inhabitants of Panama. She noted, “The inhabitants are a mixed race of Negroes, Whites, and Spaniards. Jamaica Negroes predominate. They are very disgusting and but half clothed. The women wear a great deal of lace, and white dresses altogether. It is so very hot they wear a ruffled waist, and skirt only, barefooted at all times.” Later in the entry, she wrote, “I am heartily tired of this place and the Panamanians.”5 In this entry Rebecca’s distaste for the women of Panama is equaled by her impatience waiting for transport out of the country. Her judgment of the women may have reflected her own state of mind. Tired, upset, and desperate to get home, Rebecca was clearly unhappy having to wait for passage to New York. However, her writing is similar to sentiments found in earlier comments about the Irish and the Chinese she encountered in Boston and Canton. Perhaps she attempted to maintain control of her world by continuing to write in a way that reinforced her sense of racial dominance; at this point she must have felt that she had very little control over the other elements in her life. As she finally embarked for home, Rebecca’s anxiety increased. She started to dread her unhappy duty of telling her in-laws that their only son was dead at twenty-seven She noted, “The time is now drawing near when I shall reach my journey’s end. What a sad meeting it will be when I get home! God in mercy assist me.”6 As passengers disembarked in New York, Rebecca’s sadness and anxiety increased. She worried about her impending voyage to A New Era, a New Narrative

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Boston, in which the end result was “To carry gloom and sorrow to a once happy family.”7 She also hoped that she was only being kept alive to perform this last, sad duty to her husband, because she wanted to die. In her deep grief, she wrote in her journal, “I feel that the ties which bound me to this life is broken, and when I have seen my Parents, and informed them of all my Deceased Husband’s sickness, and sufferings, I have no wish but to join William in heaven.”8 Rebecca started to arrange for an initial funeral sermon in Boston. She would plan another in Sandwich after she had his body disinterred and removed from Chile. Rebecca requested that William’s favorite preacher, Rev. Gresham Cox, deliver the sermon. The text, based on Jeremiah 49:23, was titled, “There is Sorrow on the Sea.” Perhaps Rebecca was so overcome with grief that she could not write anything in her journal on that day, but a funeral sermon on the death of a different mariner two years later prompted her to create and inscribe the memory of William’s funeral in her journal.9 In the first few months of her widowhood Rebecca’s overwhelming concern, as she recorded it in her journals, was bringing William’s body and belongings home from Chile. She often described her feelings in her journal as William’s treasured belongings started to arrive in her little village. Each item represented a connection Rebecca had with her husband. For example, when she received a chest of tea and an oil painting of the Challenger carried by the ship George Raynes, she noted her displeasure at a miscommunication regarding the ownership of the materials. The captain of the ship had sent the items on to W. & F.H. Whittemore, the company that had employed William. Rebecca noted, “They supposed from what cause I do not know that they belonged to them, and took the painting out of the present frame, and put it in a smaller one. It is injured very much.” Still, seeing the painting of the ship brought back memories of pleasanter times, when William was healthy and striding about the deck, and when the couple spent hours discussing their future together.10 For five months she continued to anxiously await the transport of more items, and, most important, William’s body. She often wondered of the progress of the Harriot Erving, which held her precious cargo. At the end of April she expected notification of the ship’s arrival and, in anticipation, she copied a Tennyson poem and dedicated it to that ship. She wrote, “My heart is with thee, thou noble ship. All my heart’s treasure is in thy possession.”11 Rebecca received William’s body in early May, about five months after she had him buried in Valparaiso, and she held the funeral a week later. Even though a problem with the embalming process in Chile necessitated an out114

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door funeral because of the smell, Rebecca was pleased that the casket was beautiful and that William was finally home. Rebecca continued to receive William’s belongings, and she recorded the ultimate import of these items to her maintenance of William’s memory: “O how it makes me feel to look upon those things, and think, they never can afford me happiness, only by reminding me of the past.”12 The last shipment Rebecca received was her beloved dog, Billy, whom William purchased for her in London. This King Charles spaniel symbolized a living tie between Rebecca and William, and she loved him dearly. She rejoiced when little Billy finally arrived, after going with the Challenger to Le Havre, France, and then making the trip on the Charles Cooper to Boston. She kept the dog with her in Sandwich, but several months after his arrival Billy met with a terrible accident and died. Rebecca’s reaction suggests how important Billy was to her, not only as a pet but as a living memorial to William: “Nothing since my return to my home . . . has affected me as this unexpected intelligence.”13 Rebecca spent $46 to make sure that William’s body and belongings returned home. This is not an inconsiderable amount for the nineteenth century; using the 2008 consumer price index, the cost of transportation was more than $1,100.14 In addition, Rebecca had to order William’s disinterment and embalming and that he be placed in the cargo hold, all while in the throes of grief. Rebecca crafted a narrative in her journal that justified this tremendous expense and effort to bring his body home. First, she claimed that she had a duty to perform what she perceived to be William’s dying wish. Years later she wrote in her journal that William wanted to be buried “at home,” and she had promised him that she would do just that. Only months before her own death, more than sixty years after William’s demise, Rebecca recollected, “His last words, as surrounded by the officers, he slowly and steadily breathed his last breath at night, Dec.11, 1856, were ‘Take me home.’”15 Rebecca wrote nothing of William’s feelings on the matter at the time of his death. Perhaps Rebecca had spent her widowhood fashioning a story that justified her own desire to have William interred just across the street from her family home? We know from her maritime journals that Rebecca herself felt great sadness for the situation of sailors who died at sea. She particularly fixated on the tragedy of being dropped into the sea, which was the typical method of a sailor’s burial in the maritime world. In 1865 she discussed with her pastor the tragedy of her friend, Mrs. Proctor, whose husband died at sea. She noted, “O how William feared an ocean grave!”16 Surely these negative associations to an at-sea burial also influenced Rebecca’s decision to bring WilA New Era, a New Narrative

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liam home.17 William himself never mentioned his fear of an “ocean grave” in his writings, and Rebecca never spoke of William’s concern for this issue until after his death. Rebecca may have had yet another motive for bringing William and his belongings home. By so doing she created a physical presence for William. He would literally become her object of mourning, and she had a way to keep him present in the eyes of the community for eternity. This physical connection to William facilitated her public mourning rituals, which focused the community’s attention on William’s life as a sea captain, as well as Rebecca’s status as sea captain’s widow. Having no recorded evidence from the time of William’s death, we do not know what his thoughts were on the matter of his burial; we have only Rebecca’s assertions of what allegedly occurred at his deathbed. Whether William had indeed asked Rebecca to “bring him home” or whether she had crafted a memory justifying her need to have William and his possessions close to her, Rebecca firmly maintained throughout her life that in bringing William home she was fulfilling his last wish. For her, the memory she created and recounted in her donated materials reinforced the persona she was constructing at the time, that of a dedicated widow who labored to bring her husband home, no matter the cost.

Crafting a Narrative: Foreshadowing, Writing “Backward,” and Constructing Memory Rebecca used her journals not only to reinforce her memories of William’s desire to be buried at home but also to write the story of William’s death, perhaps as a way to make sense of what had happened. She fashioned her narrative as a way to create and re-create the memories surrounding his death. She created and reinforced her own recollections, and transferred those memories to other generations by donating them to the historical society. As all people do, Rebecca used schemas to assist her in recalling events and experiences, finding patterns in everyday events. Her schemas developed into scripts that provided her frameworks for remembering important routines and events, particularly in the case of these highly emotional occasions. Rebecca turned her experiences into a story, which she used to create structure and meaning. She then incorporated her stories into “higherlevel themes” to address different periods in her life. Through this process, termed “autobiographical memory,”18 Rebecca used her stories to structure her memories surrounding William’s death and define herself through her 116

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attachment to him. By foreshadowing William’s death and inscribing the scenes of his last days in her journals, she created a mechanism for remembering what had happened, and she defined herself as the heroine who tried to save her ailing husband. Rebecca used the literary device of foreshadowing when she discussed her husband’s death. She remembered an event that occurred on his last birthday, and she recorded this event for a decade after William’s death. The first description appears in March 1857: “February 25th was William’s birthday. If living he would have been 28 years of age. I remember well his last birthday. We were bound from China towards London, 28 days out. It was pleasant weather, and we passed a quiet day on ship board. At dusk William came in the cabin looking very serious and said, ‘Rebecca, Do you know that I shall never live to be 37?’”19 Rebecca used this event to suggest that William had an idea that he would live a short life, but this is the first time she recorded it—she did not record it in February 1856, when she claimed that it occurred. This event lends a good deal of drama to the events surrounding William’s death, and it allowed her to foreshadow the event in her own mind, as well as to outside readers of the journals. Rebecca recorded this event again in 1859, but her story had changed a bit. In this version William seemed to believe that his death was imminent, giving the story more of an element of drama and pathos: We had passed a very pleasant day on board the good Ship Challenger, on our voyage from China to London, and I felt happy. My own health and my husbands, was good. Our Ship’s company were agreeable, and my mind was at east. William had been on deck, smoking after tea, and I lay on the sofa, in the after cabin, on the starboard side, meditating. The sun was just setting, when William entered the cabin. His countenance wore so sad an expression, I immediately exclaimed, “William, what is the matter?” This was his reply—“Rebecca I shall never live to see twenty eight years.”20

Rebecca recorded this event again on her birthday in 1862. She continued to add to the story as time went on, as she wrote, “On his twenty seventh birthday, February 25, 1856, we were in the Indian Ocean. . . .I shall never forget his look of sadness . . . he came into the cabin saying . . . ‘Rebecca, it is my last birthday. I shall never live to be twenty-eight.” By 1862 she had fashioned this exchange into a detailed story, making sense of his death and presenting it as a drama in which she played a large part. She continued to write: A New Era, a New Narrative

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Not only that, but the very atmosphere I breathed then, in that balmy, tropical region returns. The room in which I sit seems changed and assumes proportions resembling the Challenger’s Cabin—there stands the marble top center table, here in each recess are the sofas and by the table is Wm’s armchair. The bright sunlight streaming through the green sky-light, and raised windows upon the stained glass lamp, and hangings reflect the soft radiance I remember. When these worlds so solemn in their import were uttered I had retired from my favorite position on deck, and was sitting on the starboard side of the cabin, lost in meditation. I remember saying to myself, “O that my friends at home were with us!” William came down the after companionway and thinking it uncommon for him to pace the floor thus, I looked up, making the inquiry as he reached the table on the opposite side from me. I can see him now, as he looked with one hand upon the table, uttering that sad, sad reply.21

Here , six years after William’s death, Rebecca set the stage for the tragedy to come with this rich description of the event. She recorded it once again on William’s birthday in 1867, but that description lacked the detail of the 1862 entry.22 Particularly interesting about the 1862 entry is that as much as she claimed to remember the details of the day, she originally put down 1855 as the date, and then she wrote a “6” over the last digit. She may have been so caught up in relating the details of the description that she originally inscribed the incorrect date. This suggests that Rebecca was involved in creating a story for the reader, one that can neither be confirmed nor denied with any other factual evidence. She changed the story after the first recounting in 1858, remembering differently the immediacy of William’s prophecy, and then she added to the story as time went on. Historian Robert McGlone would characterize this recalled event as “aphoristic,” because it confirmed Rebecca’s “unquestioned beliefs” about “special moments” in her life, rather than relating an event that may or may not have happened. This event, in particular, shows more about how Rebecca saw herself in the unfolding of this drama than how she remembered exact details of the past.23 Rebecca also used her journals to comment on William’s journal entries, thus connecting the past and the present through her writing. By writing “backward,” Rebecca signified her ties with William and her focus on the past, as she reread entries from years before. In drawing connections with William through this method, Rebecca was much like other female diarists of the time, using their writings to emphasize the ties they felt with others, 118

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living or dead.24 Though we do not know when Rebecca made these margin notations, she clearly read and reread the diary entries, particularly the ones William wrote. In the first journal she started as a married woman, Rebecca inserted a letter at the front of the journal that included a poem inscribed to Rebecca in 1851. The poem wished for Rebecca’s journey in life to be sweet, and her death tranquil. In the margin Rebecca wrote, “Ah! How far from being realized was Wm’s wish! I am a lonely widow!”25 At another point she found William’s last entry in the Challenger journal, and she wrote an entry on the opposite page. In September 1857 she had just learned of the death of her beloved dog, and she was having a very hard time coping with all the loss. She noted: “One year ago today my husband penned the lines in my journal on the opposite page. Yes, these were his last lines. One year ago this evening, I was writing, too, in this book. Ah! How frail is man; As a shadow we pass away.” She questioned whether anyone knew that William was doomed to death. She again used the literary device of foreshadowing: “Did it enter my beloved Husband’s mind that in three months from that day he would be consigned to the silent grave in a foreign clime? . . . How can it be, I sometimes think that I have lived to see so much sorrow.”26 Then she made the explicit connection from William’s past entries and her present. She wrote, William thou hast gone before. I take this book containing so many of thy sentiments, I peruse the same, then with silent mien, I ponder each thought. All of thy sentiments penned in this book, were written in my presence, and the feelings expressed whether of joy or sorrow, were shared by me thy loving Companion, also. William I live now in the past. The future is a sealed book, but the past is ever before me; and memory is ever busy calling up the happy moments of my life passed in my cherished husband’s society.27

Rebecca’s writing functioned not only as a way to understand and find meaning in the months leading up to William’s death but also to connect herself to him by rereading his own journal entries. Rebecca’s journals also provided her with a method of remembering and retelling the story of William’s death, adding details through the years that provided a rich dramatic backdrop for the doomed couple. It is possible that Rebecca added details over the years in order to make sure that her readers could completely understand the pathos and drama of William’s demise. Rebecca recorded just the basic facts of William’s death on the day it occurred: A New Era, a New Narrative

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“At 11 p.m. My Dear Husband departed this world, apparrently at peace with his Maker, and in no pain.”28 But later events, such as the deaths of family members, would trigger her memories of that day, and she continued to retell and add to the story of William. In 1858 she meditated upon the death of her great-uncle Nathaniel Ellis. His death brought her back to the scene on the ship two years earlier. Rebecca illustrated a scene worthy of any melodrama: “God’s blessings” I seem to hear William say! A few moments previous to his death, I asked him what I should say to his Parents? “God bless them” was his reply. Then I said, what to your Sisters? And received the same reply “God Bless Them!” O how beautiful is the expression! Tonight I am thinking of the scene on board the Ship Challenger, when my Husband lay in the struggles of death.29

Rebecca had recorded William’s last words as “God bless you” in the first entry she made after his death. However, that early entry lacks any of the detail she provided two years later. Almost a year after this entry, the death of Rebecca’s Aunt Hepsah Crowell again triggered her memories of William’s death. Here she began to set the stage of the drama that unfolded in 1856, describing William to the reader: “My mind goes back this evening to the scene three years ago—My husband, O how can I write it, lay sick, a mere skeleton, struggling with disease. I feel then, as I feel tonight. Time does not heal the wounds.”30 Several years later Rebecca lost her beloved cousin Cora. As she thought about Cora’s illness, she noted, “I am carried back to my ocean home, see again the Challenger’s cabin—and look upon the wasting form of my companion. It all comes back in its freshness, and I again look upon death.”31 Sometimes Rebecca “remembered” other events that occurred in their relationship. For example, in 1860 she reminisced about visiting the Challenger: Five years ago this Eve, my husband’s hand grasped mine, his manly voice whispered of happiness in store for said he, “Rebecca, I have the best Owners, I have the best ship, and the best wife. Methinks I hear him e’en now say, “Rebecca, I love you so dearly, and shall we not take comfort, when at sea again, in such a fine ship as the Challenger?”32

Rebecca made a memory again on the day she received a small ambrotype of her husband from a friend. It was taken just after they were married, and she pasted it in her journal with the inscription, “My Husband,” and made 120

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notes in the margin listing his birthday and death date, the photographer, and William’s age at the time of the photograph (25 years & 9 months). She wrote this description underneath the image: The pleasant eyes look with the old time tenderness, thy broad massive forehead wears the old time clearness—thy lips the sweet fond pressure bore the last night of earth. O that last parting on the broad Pacific—that last message “Meet me in heaven”—that long lingering look as the soul’s light grew dimmer and fainter! How it all comes back—the pleasant cabin of the Challenger—the low murmer of the sea,—the soft tropical sunshine—the solitary Island of Juan Fernandez—and rising above all—the agony of that last parting. It seems a dream—the burial in Valparaiso, the lonely journey home—the arrival of Wm’s remains; The dear photograph revives it all, carries me back 15000 miles, to China-London-Lima, Cal, and leaves me at last beside his grave. I shall meet him yet in Heaven.33

Yet again Rebecca used her constructed memory to link with her husband, this time providing a short recap of the sites they visited together and the scene of his death. Rebecca also suggested still another romantic parting between the two, and used a different phrase than the “God bless you” she had earlier recalled as his parting words. This time his words set the couple up in a timeless relationship, focused on their bond that Rebecca defined in this passage as stronger than death. Rebecca became adept at writing out scenes from her life. As with her story foreshadowing William’s death, Rebecca’s descriptions of William’s life usually became more detailed as the years passed. For Rebecca, the experiences of losing close relatives, reading about the Challenger’s comings and goings at port, and simply rereading her journals brought back in vivid detail the tragedy in which she and William played the central characters. It is impossible to know whether Rebecca’s memories provide an accurate description of William’s passing. Her memory seems to be a “figment of the present”—we know that she was actively reading and rereading entries, so she could certainly build upon what she had already written. For Rebecca, her memories were her reality, and the details she provided helped her to create her own meaning in William’s death. Most of these constructed and reconstructed memories sit in the journal that Rebecca and William kept together during their long voyage aboard the Challenger. For Rebecca, this journal was an artifact of her life that helped her shape and reshape her memories through the years. A New Era, a New Narrative

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William’s photograph, taken when he was twenty-five. To this day, Rebecca’s photograph sits aside his in the frame she purchased for the portraits. Photograph courtesy of the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society.

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Connecting with William Rebecca’s narratives helped her craft a story relating some of the events of their life together and the circumstances surrounding William’s death. Her journal entries, particularly from the Challenger journal, contain the flashbacks, memories, and foreshadowing that enabled Rebecca to fashion a maritime drama with herself and William at the center. But this was not the only reason Rebecca kept writing. Rebecca also used this journal, the last place in which William wrote, to maintain an emotional connection with her husband. Not only did she address many entries directly to him, often calling upon him to meet her in heaven, but she also recorded the many experiences she had of feeling his spirit around her. It is in these entries that we see Rebecca’s instrospective side. She often noted that she waited until the family had gone to sleep before taking out this journal, thus keeping it part of her private world. However, she donated the journal, and so she did expect others to see her suffering and her desire to maintain a relationship with her husband. In fact, she wrote an aside that seemed directed particularly at an outside reader when she explained: This book is one of great interest to me, containing a faithful record of my joys and sorrows, during these past three years. I love it, O how I love it! My motive in writing this Evening is twofold, My mind since William died has delighted in meditating on sad and serious things, hence my journal evinces a melancholy tone, for as I feel, so must I write.34

Although Rebecca kept several journals in addition to this one, the Challenger journal was of particular importance to her, because it was here that she perceived a physical connection to her husband as she continued to reread his entries. From 1858 to 1873, at 11:00 P.M. on December 11, she would record that her husband died on that day and at that time in 1856. Often she would also record her feelings. In 1859 she noted, “I feel as I did then, and as though it was the same night, and yet a year has passed. . . . I felt, even as I do tonight. O so lonely!” She believed that the act of recording William’s passing brought him closer to her. In 1860 she asked: “Is not a spirit in my room tonight? Has not my Husband visited me Three successive years in this room? William, I believe it.” Rebecca was not a follower of spiritualism or the work of mediums, but she did think that she could feel her husband around her when she meditated on his death. In 1862 thoughts of a friend’s death sparked this reference to William’s spirit: A New Era, a New Narrative

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The Companion of my youth “sleeps his last sleep!” No sweet sounding “Ship Ahoy” or the more welcome one of “Land Ho! ” that greeted us in that May month, will awake to the earth’s scenes again. Yet each day I feel a pleasing influence steal o’er me and I know that he is somewhere on that unseen shore, watching, beckoning, and waiting for me.35

The same year Rebecca wrote again, “There has been around me a peculiar spiritual influence two days past, as if William was beside me.” She believed that when she memorialized William in this way, she could feel his presence more closely. The yearly memorial was an important ritual for Rebecca. No matter what happened that year, she could maintain a constant connection through the recording of William’s time of death. She noted the importance of this ritual in 1864, when she said, “How strange it all seems tonight as I write here, alone, as for seven years past!” She continued this ritual until 1873.36 The Challenger journal became the central focus of this ritual—by 1862 the only events recorded in this journal were the anniversaries of William’s death. She made this event sacred in her own mind by turning the journal itself into a memorial for her late husband. By donating this particular journal, she also made clear to the public that she regarded this event as a turning point in her life and one that would continue to define her identity for the next six decades.

Public Grief and Mourning Rebecca may have used her journals to claim an identity for herself as the grieving and faithful captain’s widow, but her most descriptive entries from the Challenger journal may not have been read by anyone else until after her death (we know that her friends and family read her other journals, as she made note of the fact in the text). So it was Rebecca performing—and then going beyond—the typical Victorian rituals of grief and mourning that made her community fully aware of her continued connection with William. Rebecca began the formal ritual of grieving immediately upon William’s death, and her continued efforts, through the typically accepted mourning period, assisted her in maintaining her identity. She faithfully recorded these rituals and activities in her journals, and they can be found in the journals she donated and made public. Rebecca was not unlike thousands of other Victorian widows, who used mourning to publicly signify bereavement over their losses. Many historians have described Victorian rituals of grief, which included wearing black and 124

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eschewing public events for prescribed periods of time. In the nineteenth century the Victorian ritual of mourning was one of the most important ways a bereaved loved one could express Christian sentimentality. In Victorian mourning rituals grief became a visible sign of love and was the “most genteel of all sentiments.” While public mourning could sometimes project insincerity, the rituals that Victorians adopted suggested that their bonds to the deceased were stronger than mortality, and that the dead continued to influence the living from beyond the grave.37 After 1850 Victorian mourning evolved into an “elaborately ceremonial public ritual,” complete with designated behaviors and wardrobes. For two years women wore no white, and began the mourning period wearing only dull black fabric, gradually replacing the black with muted colors. Women were not supposed to leave home, except to attend church, for a month after the funeral. They were not to engage in visits away from home for six weeks, and attend no parties or weddings during the period of “deep mourning.” Adherence to these strict codes of mourning manners signaled the bereaved’s middle-class status and understanding of gentility.38 Rebecca was unique, however, in the way she recorded all these efforts—as well as the ways in which she went beyond the basic standards of mourning, which speaks to the way she wanted herself memorialized. Rebecca wrote in her journal that on the return from Chile she kept to her room, avoiding company whenever possible, as befitted a genteel Victorian lady in deep mourning. Although her actions allowed her to maintain conventions, it also enabled her to embrace solitude as she worked through her grief and came to terms with the death of her young husband. As she waited for an Atlantic north-bound steamer in Panama, she continually had to refuse invitations to visit the captain of the Bogota, which had transported her from Chile. She wrote, “I do not wish to go anywhere. I do not feel it my duty to spend my time in amusement.”39 She stayed away from public festivities on July 4—her birthday—until long after William’s death. As she said in 1862, “I have been to no place of recreation on this holiday since my return home, for five years, and this year I design attending the exhibit in Sandwich. It will be my first attendance since my bereavement, and it is only for instruction that I attend now.”40 Even while visiting friends or relatives, she continued to play the part of the grieving widow to perfection. On a visit to her in-laws home, she talked of William, as she usually did. This irritated her sister-in-law, Lydia, who complained, “Do we not always speak of him when we meet?” But Rebecca wrote in her diary that she desired conversations about William, and that she welcomed the opportunity to talk about him with others.41 A New Era, a New Narrative

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Not everyone felt that Rebecca was irritating when she talked of William. Speaking with others about William enabled Rebecca to connect them with the sad story, and Rebecca only recorded one negative comment—young Lydia’s—in connection with her continued focus on William in her conversations. In 1863 Reverend Morrison and his wife visited Rebecca. Rebecca probably discussed the promise that Rebecca and William had made on their wedding day—to never marry another, for Mrs. Morrison asked Rebecca: “Do you think that promise binding?” This started Rebecca reminiscing about William and the ways in which they promised to always stay faithful to each other. Rebecca wrote that even Mrs. Morrison felt a spirit in the room, as her question brought forth Rebecca’s memories and actually might have manifested William’s spiritual presence.42 By speaking of William and telling stories of her married life, Rebecca could continue to cast herself as the object of William’s love. By recording these events in her journals, she showed the public exactly how she memorialized her husband. By donating the journals, she made sure that she would be remembered for her connection with her husband, even long after his death. Although many Victorian women followed the same conventions Rebecca did as she grieved the loss of William, Rebecca may well have gone beyond the norm in her constant visits to the cemetery and in the way she created a way to narrate herself into his death scenes. She also made her connection to William very public in the way she established his gravesite and through her constant visits to the village cemetery. Rebecca used the cemetery to create a physical representation of William’s memory, and his gravestone focused the community on his activities as captain, as well as his wife’s devotion to her husband. That marker defines William as daring sea captain and beloved husband. It is interesting to note that not far down from where Rebecca buried William is the memorial to her four uncles who died at sea. William is buried in a place that already told the story of maritime sacrifice. The cemetery was just across the street from Rebecca’s home, and it was located on the main thoroughfare of her village, on Old King’s Highway (now part of Route 6A). Anyone traveling through her village would have seen the extraordinary monument to William, and if he happened upon the cemetery at the right time of day, he or she would have caught Rebecca visiting William and working on the grounds around his monument. Rebecca’s actions ensured that the community linked her with William, and that her grief became a public fixture in her village. In September 1857 Rebecca purchased William’s monument in Boston, paying $137 for the obelisk, headstone, and shipping. This 126

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was an exorbitant cost for the time—today the monument would cost over $3,400.43 Rebecca wanted the monument to stand out in the little cemetery, and so she inscribed a few of her own sentiments, and then asked her friend Sarah Swift to compose a poem for the obelisk. The lines on the monument read: Captain William H. Burgess, Master of the Ship Challenger Died at Sea, December 11, 1856 Temporarily buried at Valparaiso, December 14 His remains were conveyed to this final resting place May 3, 1857. Thou art gone, in vain I seek thee; Thou hast passed from earth away, And the hooding wing of sorrow, Lies darkly in my way; For I miss thy gentle presence, Thy guiding hand I miss, Thy pleasant, social converse, Thy beaming, truthful face. Oh! I have loved too fondly And a gracious Father’s hand Hath removed my cherished idol To a brighter better land. But this blest hope is left me. To cheer my stricken heart; In that blest world to meet thee; And never, never part. rebecca 44

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Rebecca’s words are inscribed on the front of the monument. Sarah Swift’s poem reads: Rest, loved one, rest! Not where thou first wast laid, Beneath the Palm tree’s shade, Thy grave may be! Nor where thou first sunk to rest On the calm Pacific’s breast Far out at sea! Rest, loved one, rest! Not mid the crested foam Of thy loved ocean home, Thy grave may be! Nor where thou sunk to rest On the calm Pacific’s breast Far out at sea! Nor where, thou first wast laid, Beneath the Palm tree’s shade, Thy final bed— Where Tropic birds and flowers Made bright the sunny bowers Above thy head! But in this hallowed soil Rest thou from earthly toil New England’s son! Near to her childhood’s home Who joyed with thee to roam Thy chosen one! She, who thy perils shared Nor winds, nor tempests feared When by thy side— Thy faithful, trusting wife Dearer to thee than life Thy youthful bride. 128

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Who pillowed thy loved head And smoothed thy dying bed Alone, alone— And when thy spirit fled, Thy last request obeyed. And “took thee home.” Thy Parents here shall come, To mourn their only son. Their early dead. Thy Sisters flowers shall strew Bright with the morning dew Above thy head. Then, rest, beloved one. Neath this monumental stone, Till in yon Heaven With robes of shining light In Jesus’ blood made white Our sins forgiven, We meet to part no more Our toils, and trials o’er At Jesus’ feet, Our pledge to thee is given At God’s right hand in Heaven “Again to meet.”45

Although this monument was erected in William’s memory, Rebecca made herself as much of the story as possible in the inscription. By having the monument maker inscribe these lines on William’s obelisk, Rebecca made public her story of William’s life, death, and request to be buried in New England—and also publicized her significant part in the story. She noted her devotion to him and her commitment to meet him in heaven. Moreover, she discussed herself—her willingness to go to sea with him, her loyalty as he lay on his deathbed, and her fulfillment of her promise to him to “take him home.” This monument stands today, an eternal marker of Rebecca and William’s story, just as she wanted it. When she went to see the headstone erected in the cemetery after its delivery from Boston, she noted her satisfaction: “I take comfort in saying, my Dear Husband has a fitting monument erected A New Era, a New Narrative

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to his memory.”46 The obelisk stands tall in the cemetery to this day, with Rebecca’s name now engraved on one side. This monument was meant to be a physical testament to William and Rebecca, and a way in which she could permanently tell their story—it is, in effect, a physical part of the legacy she was attempting to maintain. During her life Rebecca also made sure that she fashioned a physical connection to William’s grave, and she maintained the persona of bereaved widow as the community watched her visit and landscape the site. Before she buried William, she spent the week prior working on his grave. She hired a man to plant trees and ready the soil for her to plant the flowers around him. She wrote, “O William may it be my happy privilege to keep thy grave green, to cherish thy memory with little expressions of my love.”47 Her journals record numerous trips to William’s grave—in fact, she seemed to spend more time there than anywhere else. Indeed, she noted on her birthday in 1857, “I have neglected to visit thy grave this day, not from want of inclination, but from detention by company.”48 For Rebecca, flowers became an important symbol of her continued love for William. She was able to use flowers as a way to represent past memories, and as a way to connect physically with her husband’s grave. She took comfort in the flowers that bloomed a year after she planted them, and she made a bouquet with them to keep with the flowers she took from his tomb in Valparaiso.49 She also kept flower cuttings throughout the winter months so that she could have a memento of him in her home. In 1861 she mentioned that the roses blooming on William’s grave brought back memories of his tomb in Valparaiso. She explained that the roses in Sandwich bloomed for four summers because of her care, and that she loved them, as she did when she first saw similar roses in Chile.50 Rebecca spent much time on landscaping, using her gardening skills as an expression of love. As she stated, “How grateful I feel for the blessed privilege of training the sweet blossoms of his Native land, upon his grave.”51 She planted roses, petunias, and crocuses at different times of the year. She also noted the growth of the periwinkles and hyacinth, and she enjoyed planting violets around his grave. She got her brothers to plant more hemlock and spruce trees over the myrtles and lilies-of-the-valley that she continually tended.52 Tending these flowers gave Rebecca the opportunity to frequent William’s resting place. In 1867 she wrote, “How much comfort I have taken in planting flowers by William’s grave since his burial May 3 1857. I always think he is beside me.”53 Planting and tending flowers was more than a private ritual of grief; Rebecca spent long hours in the cemetery at the center of the village, and she 130

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regularly brought friends along with her to visit and help. She planted flowers with her sisters-in-law, and she often visited the cemetery with her good friend Lucy Bourne, an unmarried schoolteacher who had lost her beloved younger sister Lizzie. Lizzie was buried in the village cemetery, too, and Lucy and Rebecca often transplanted clippings from William’s grave to Lizzie’s and did landscaping work together. They would often stay in the cemetery until evening, working and reminiscing about their loved ones. In this way Rebecca connected with another mourner, and they shared in each other’s grief. Rebecca spent so much time in the cemetery alone and with others that the community could not help but notice her devotion. Rebecca noted in several journal entries that she was “in the cemetery” when she encountered people. In one instance, a child with an important message for her went looking in the cemetery, where, of course, he found her trimming the grass around William’s grave.54 Rebecca’s public actions of gardening and landscaping, whether alone or with others, helped the community to remember and take note of the legacy she was trying to create. It would have been impossible to miss this young devoted woman spending long hours in the cemetery, tending her young husband’s grave. Rebecca herself wrote about the long hours she kept there: “I love that sacred enclosure, long after twilight I often tarry within its precincts, arranging the plants, and musing on the happy past. My treasure is in Heaven, thither are my affections also, yet it is something to rest by my dear one’s grave.”55 As she spent time at the gravesite, Rebecca served as a constant reminder to her community that she was, indeed, the “captain’s widow.”

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6 Visible and Invisible Rebecca’s Multiple Identities

west sandwich, mass. november 29th, a.d. 1860 O My new Journal I welcome you! Not to share the place in my affection my Husband’s gift always will occupy, but in a new relation greet I that fair book. May this hand ne’er indite, what in after years the heart may wish eradicated! To purposes of self improvement and culture, and the portrayal of life’s vicissitudes, dedicate I my Dear Journal. It is dear already, for I love to write, and I know many fond associations will linger around this receptacle of earnest thought. My other Journals are so filled with mementoes of the “loved and lost.” I cannot write fully of the present. Something keeps whispering of by-gones, and I have procured this book that I may delineate my feelings without restraint. It is Thanksgiving Eve. How can I better employ an hour than in reviewing my life? I listened to an able discourse this morning from the words of the Psalmist, “Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits, even the God of our salvation,” by Bro. A. Alton. I have been thinking of the manifold goodness of God to me, ever since. Although my life presents a chequered scene, is not memory oftimes pleasant? Are not my praises due to Him, who in taking my Companion home, did not leave me without a guiding Friend ever? Have I not kind Parents, two loving Brothers, and a Sister left? Do not books make agreable companions? Ought I not to thank the Giver, for the means to supply the wants of my soul in this direction? May not the blight, fallen in my youth—cutting off my hopes and rendering me seemingly powerless for good, yet redound to Gods glory? I have been almost Four yrs in a Lethargic state; and something is rousing me—something tells me, latent energies all too long have slumbered;—and uncongenial as it may be, to the mind, have exercise it must. All thoughts of “It

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might have been,” I now submerge in this one petition, offered this “Thanksgiving Eve” to Our Heavenly Parent, in true sincerity. “O Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” This is the main thought of Rebecca.1 entry from journal no t d onated 1859 Notes belonging to H.R. Burgess and at her disposal Feb. 5th “ “ 25th March 18th “ April 12th March 30th May 27th August “ 5th

$ .cts Lewis Howes Jr. Sum 55.00 Bangs Hallett to pay Int. on 80.00 B. Burgess 131.00 Rec. from Mr. Bast $121.61 of it for Chro. Elisha Bangs 300.00 Paul Sears 300.00 P. Crowell 100.00 Pew to L. Howes $42.00 Drew on note Feb. 5th “ Total $1006.002

From the time of William’s death through the 1870s, Rebecca kept five separate journals, four of which she donated to the historical society. The donated journals complete the picture of Rebecca’s activities during her widowhood and suggest that although she spent much of her time reminiscing about William in the cemetery, she did participate in community activities, most particularly in her church. Rebecca’s journals during this period blend religious introspection with narrative about visits, philanthropic efforts, and political events during the Civil War. Rebecca used her prose in this era to more fully fashion her persona as widow—not just as a woman overcome with grief but as a genteel lady whose main concerns were her family, her community, and her religion. She created a “fictive self ” for public purview at the time by allowing her friends and family to peruse her writing and her scrapbook, which was filled with stories of lost loves, flowers, and religious conversions.3 At the same time that Rebecca cast herself as a genteel grief-stricken widow whose main concerns were family and God, she maintained another identity—that of a hard-nosed businesswoman who understood her financial situation and looked to make money to secure her own future. Although

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her friends and family knew that she was engaging in business practices,4 she never mentioned this aspect of her life in her donated journals. This part of Rebecca’s persona may well have gone practically unnoticed if a relative had not loaned her financial ledger to the historical society after Rebecca’s death. Rebecca’s records reflect the ways in which she engaged in negotiating between multiple identities simultaneously. Her multiple identities speak to the way in which she wanted to be remembered, and her embrace of different personas reflects a practice in which all humans engage. All people employ different identities at the same time, and these identities are complex and socially constructed. We use our identities to fit into the different communities in our lives—social, work, neighborhood, activist—whatever is important to us. We can be spouses, parents, employers, employees, or social activists, all at the same time. What makes Rebecca unusual is the way she inscribed all her identities and retained those narratives for the public to peruse. Rebecca’s identities suggested what was important to her—country, kin, community, and, of course, her ongoing “relationship” with William.5 In looking at two of her most public journals and scrapbook, begun in the 1860s, and her financial ledger, begun just after William died, we can understand Rebecca as a woman who had many facets to her character, some of which she wanted highlighted and others she may have wanted to fade away after her death.

Patriot Some of Rebecca’s earliest entries in her journal record her sentiments about the southern rebels and the Civil War in general. Her entries suggest that Rebecca wanted to be known as a woman who worried about the progress of the war. She had ample opportunity to read about the war effort, as local papers printed weekly digests of Union and Confederate movements, victories, and losses. Like the rest of Sandwich residents, Rebecca was an ardent unionist. When townspeople heard of the attack on Fort Sumter in 1861, fifty volunteers signed up with Captain Charles Chipman of West Sandwich, forming the Sandwich Guards.6 The Barnstable Patriot praised the activities of these Sandwich regiments, announcing, “All honor to Sandwich and her patriotic young men! A full company of reliable and well-descripted soldiery will soon march from that village for the seat of war.”7 Another allvolunteer company left in 1862, with a complement of seventy-four men. Eighty-six more men joined the 29th Regiment and then transferred to the 36th Regiment.8

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Men volunteered as soldiers, but across the nation women also mobilized for the effort. Women moved many of their philanthropic efforts from religious work to political work. Northern women started up organizations dedicated to sewing, packing food, and making bandages. Thousands of these volunteer organizations provided much-needed supplies to the army. Under the Women’s Central Association of Relief and Sanitary Commission, many women labored efficiently to supply the army.9 Through organizations like these, Rebecca and the other women of West Sandwich became part of this national movement to provide the troops with necessities. In 1861 the Barnstable Patriot noted that the “Patriotic Ladies of West Sandwich” sent a box full of quilts, pillows and pillowcases, jars of preserves, magazines and other reading materials, and bandages to the front.10 Rebecca probably did not record every example of her work for the soldiers, but we know that she did assist in the war effort, because she took care to write of one circumstance she probably thought would interest readers of her journal. She noted her excitement when a soldier sent a personal letter of thanks: “A few months since Mrs. Churbuck and myself solicited contributions for the Christian Commission, the little girls filling workbags with articles of comfort, and enclosing notes requesting replies.” Rebecca’s cousin, Sarah Ellis, heard from the recipient of hers first—a soldier from Iowa sent a thank-you note. Rebecca then received her own letter, and secured it in the page of her journal. At some point the letter was lost from the pages, but Rebecca’s attempt to keep it suggests that she wanted her efforts for the war to be recognized by readers of her journals.11 Rebecca often recorded news of the war in her journal. Like many Victorians, Rebecca probably saw the Civil War as a challenge to the comfort and meaning in her life. Certainly she thought enough of it to want to be characterized as a woman who cared deeply about securing victory for the Union.12 Rebecca worried along with the rest of the North when the war went badly. After the Seven Days Campaign in 1862, Rebecca wrote, “Our nation is in mourning today, and since the defeat at Richmond, it looks indeed gloomy. In the God of battles I trust.”13 She remembered the nine boys from West Sandwich who joined the Sandwich companies, and she noted with sadness when one of them died. She recorded what her cousin said about the tragedy: “if one person dying in a village threw so deep a gloom over every one what must it be in our army, where the sick and wounded soldiers are dying by the hundreds.”14 Rebecca also went with her brothers, Thomas and Hiram, to welcome back the 29th as it returned home. The war had taken its toll on the regiment—only eighteen of the seventy-six who returned home came back 136

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without battle wounds. Four men re-enlisted, and four were still in hospitals; the rest did not make it back. Rebecca cheered their arrival and described her feelings in her journal: “Brave defenders of our country, God bless them! And so three years of war are past—O how long will the South resist our government?”15 Rebecca also used her journals to record that she supported the Union politically, and in no uncertain terms. In 1864 she attended a Republican mass meeting in Sandwich. She noted, “The coming Presidential election is one of great interest, I feel confident that the decision will turn on the side of justice and humanity.” On Election Day she praised God for Lincoln’s reelection.16 She rejoiced with her town in April 1865 when “General Robert Lee of the Confederate Army had surrendered to General Grant near Richmond.” She also expressed her horror days later when she discovered that Lincoln had been assassinated. She wrote of the memorials in Sandwich: “This has been an impressive and solemn day all through the loyal North. . . .Our little church was draped in excellent taste.”17 Several weeks later Rebecca noted the $100,000 reward for the arrest of Jefferson Davis, explaining her belief that he was involved with Lincoln’s assassination. Her assessment of the situation read: “May treason be duly punished!”18 By engaging in public activities and rituals related to the Civil War, and by recording her feelings about the war in her journal, Rebecca identified herself with her community and the fate of its enlisted men. She also crafted yet another facet of her character—that of patriot who cared deeply for the health of the Union. Rebecca had good reason to worry about the difficulties caused by the war: her sister Lizzie was trapped in Georgia with a small child, because her husband had taken a teaching job there. Lizzie was isolated and had no way to correspond regularly with her family in the North. Rebecca used Lizzie’s situation to craft yet another dramatic narrative in her journal, this time focused on her beloved sister and what Rebecca perceived to be her perilous situation in the South. In June 1861 she wrote, “Sadly I write of the troubles of our country—yet sad as it makes us, Lizzie and Asa must feel even deeper.”19 Rebecca fretted over the course of the war, and as it progressed she feared more for the safety of her sister and brother-in-law. In 1862 she noted that the family had not heard from Lizzie or Asa in months. She longed to see her little nephew, Willie, before he grew up, and she exclaimed, “If this cruel war might end, how many bleeding hearts would rejoice!”20 Rebecca and her family discovered that Lizzie gave birth to a baby girl in January 1863, and rather than welcome the news, Rebecca found new cause for concern. As she wrote, “O our hearts are sad as we think of their probable condition, in Visible and Invisible

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the far-off South. When will this cruel war terminate?”21 Concern mounted when several months passed without news of Lizzie’s family. Rebecca feared for their health and safety, and remarked. “Ah! How this cruel-cruel war, sunders families! God bless Lizzie & Asa, & their dear children, Willie & Effie, today—if yet alive!” Many more months passed before Rebecca recorded receiving another letter from her sister. Rebecca learned that her sister was learning to spin and weave cloth as a result of the shortages in the region. Rebecca was horrified, and wrote, “poor girl she little knew the trials of the future on her wedding day.”22 Rebecca’s sensibilities were ruffled when she discovered her sister having to throw herself into manual labor of this sort to survive. Rebecca also may have been comparing Lizzie’s trials to her own, as she focused on Lizzie’s marriage as being a key factor in her present dangerous situation. Lizzie’s situation became more desperate as inflation rocked the South; several months after she sent the letter explaining her attempts to create homespun cloth, she wrote that flour cost $125 to $150 a barrel, and shoes were $30 to $75 a pair.23 These entries are particularly interesting, because they enable Rebecca to promote several character traits at once; her loyalty to her family, which kept her ever concerned about her younger sister’s welfare, as she duly noted; her hatred of the war, and possibly her identification with families who had sent men to be soldiers as she mourned her “split family”; and her gentility, as she wrote of “poor” Lizzie’s having to learn to spin cloth. This is a far cry from the young woman portrayed in Rebecca’s earlier journals, who took to knitting on visits and complained about the fact that, as a country girl, she hated having “nothing to do” in Boston. Several more months went by without word from Lizzie, when Rebecca’s whole family was thrown into an uproar. One day as she worked at William’s grave, a child came by with a message. Rebecca’s father had received a letter from “a rebel,” Larry Cobb. Cobb was in a prison camp and claimed he knew Lizzie and Asa Edgerly. According to Cobb, Lizzie had given him her name and address, and had asked him to locate her family and request twenty dollars. The family decided that it needed more proof before determining the legitimacy of the missive, and several weeks later Rebecca’s father received another letter from Cobb with a note written in what the family determined was Lizzie’s handwriting. Rebecca noted the anguish the family felt—they wanted to help Lizzie, “but O shall we assist a rebel Prisoner!”24 This twist of fate provided Rebecca with a convenient way to heighten the tension in Lizzie’s story, as evinced by the way she wrote about the family’s dilemma in “assisting a rebel.” Rebecca did not record the family’s final decision, but, 138

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in any case, Lizzie did finally make it back to Sandwich after the war ended. Rebecca wrote in the margins of a journal entry that Lizzie arrived on 3 August 1865. She exclaimed, “How happy we are! Willie and Effie are with us, too—dear children!”25 By editorializing on the Civil War, enthusiastically supporting the Union cause, and showing concern for her sister who was “stuck” in the land of the rebels, Rebecca could effect two separate and important components of identity. First, she managed to show herself as a politically astute citizen who was a Union patriot. The Civil War provided Rebecca with an opportunity to suggest her political savvy. Never again would she record anything political in a journal. Perhaps because her community was so galvanized and because ladies were organizing for the war effort, Rebecca felt that she could speak out about politics and still retain her identity as a genteel woman. Second, she could reiterate the importance of family to her, which would remain a central theme in all her journals. After all, Rebecca had no children, and she was living in her father’s home in West Sandwich. Rebecca’s kin ties were extremely important to her, and certainly she understood that her family would be essential in keeping the memory of her alive in her community after she was gone.

Family and Community Many entries in Rebecca’s journals reinforce her identity as a woman surrounded by loving family and friends. She dedicated much of her journal space to narrating trips taken with friends and family to visit others in nearby Dennis and Plymouth, as well as in North and East Sandwich. She also described the importance of community, most notably her religious community of the West Sandwich Methodist Episcopal Church. Rebecca relied on family and community as her support system, and it would be her community that respected her, cared for her, and ultimately remembered her. By focusing so much of her time and energy in relating community activities and community ties in her prose, Rebecca was able to cast herself as a central character in West Sandwich, surrounded by people who loved and respected her. Rebecca’s journals detail numerous prayer meetings, sewing circles, and church classes that she attended. In 1861 she recorded her happiness about being among friends at a sewing circle meeting: “Yesterday was a happy day, and at its close, as I stood on the lawn in front of A.N. Ellis house in N. Sandwich, I heard praises go up everywhere . . . parting with the Misses Bourne, we each repeated ‘Good Night’ untill they reached the gate.”26 In many of Visible and Invisible

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Rebecca spent her widowhood surrounded by family and friends. Here she visits with Hiram, her mother, and her nieces outside the house she shared with her mother. Photograph courtesy of the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society.

these entries, Rebecca described herself as a character delighted to be among fellow church members. She commented on one sewing circle group in this way: “Enjoy the meetings, and think all do.”27 Rebecca noted that when she was at sea, she often wished that she could attend prayer meetings, to be with her church community. She reinforced bonds between herself and the community by attending these meetings, and she also noted that the meetings provided spiritual support for her. One month before the fourteenth anniversary of William’s death, Rebecca wrote in her Challenger journal, “I have been to prayer Mtg at Church this Eve. Feel like being among Christians.”28 Nowhere is Rebecca’s enjoyment of Christian community more evident than in her attendance at the Yarmouth Camp Meetings. Rebecca’s narrative crafted her as a central character in a wondrous world rife with conversions and Christian unity. Rebecca attended the camp meetings yearly from 1863 to 1870, and she probably continued attending these meetings after her last recording of the 1870 camp. From its early beginning, the camp meeting became an annual highlight of summer on Cape Cod after its inception in 1863. The Methodist Church purchased land in Yarmouth for the purpose of holding yearly tent revivals. Early on, the camp site had nothing but tents 140

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erected by different communities and a large stand that could hold thirty to forty ministers, surrounded by benches that could seat about fifteen hundred congregants. West Sandwich was the first community to erect a tent, suggesting that Rebecca’s entire community was very enthusiastic about the revival project. Even in its early days, attendance at the summer event numbered up to six thousand, which was approximately 20 percent of the Cape’s population at that time. The Cape Cod Railroad built a station there to facilitate travel to the site, and attendees could purchase meals at special eating tents. By the early 1870s the campground took on a resort atmosphere as families and communities erected permanent cabins and cottages. Ice Cream Parlor tents and “Saloons” were stocked with everything from pickled limes and sweets to soda fountains.29 Rebecca went to the meeting the very first year, and continued to attend for years after that first meeting. In 1863 she remarked upon the meeting with an article pasted into her journal and the notation, “O how happy I was at the ‘Love Feast’ on the Campground! . . . My heart is grateful to God, for pleasing and strengthening remembrances of the first Camp Meeting at Yarmouth.”30 The following year Rebecca provided more details about the meeting, focusing on how many friends and family she had who joined her at the site. She listed her friends who attended the meeting, including her Cousin Mercie, her brother Tommy, her dear friend Lucy Bourne, and many other friends and family from Sandwich and the surrounding area. She concluded: A source of exquisite enjoyment was the meeting with so many friends. . . . How many times while in God’s temple—have I thanked him for friends! I love to feel the beating of heart to heart, love to clasp the friendly hand— meet the kindling eye, exchange the loving kiss, and dearer—sweeter— power—more tender than all other ties, is that which binds our hearts in Christian love.31

Rebecca continued to visit, and comment on, the camp meetings in Yarmouth. She always noted the “pleasant company,” and she claimed that she looked forward to communing with friends and family every year. In 1870 she recorded her last account of the camp meeting, when she wrote that her brother, Tommie, was ailing and declining rapidly. She knew that he would not survive to the next camp meeting, and she said with sadness that he faithfully attended every meeting with her in the past. Tommie would not, indeed, survive much longer, so Rebecca’s recollection of this particular camp meeting was bittersweet.32 In the journal entries Rebecca used the camp meetings Visible and Invisible

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as a symbol of her community. She also used the camp narrative to claim yet another way to describe herself as a central character in her network of friends and family. Indeed, Rebecca’s entries about her community may well have been as much for herself as for others—to reinforce the fact that although she often claimed to feel extremely alone without William, she was never truly bereft of support. Because we know that Rebecca was continuing to reread these entries (margin notes in several entries attest to this), and because she dedicated two of these journals to relating events she considered important on the first pages of the books, we can surmise that the stories about the community helped Rebecca to envision herself in the middle of this tightly knit group. And as public journals that she would later donate, these books reflect her sense of her own prominence within this network—she considered herself a very important part of the society she described.

Rebecca as Religious Figure Not only did Rebecca reinforce her identity as an important member of the church and village community in her narrative, but she also used her writing to establish the perception that her status as an elite widow and her unquestioned religious beliefs made her responsible for converting others to the faith. She often made comments that reflected her understanding of her identity as church leader and class arbiter. Much of her introspective writing in these public journals was concerned with converting those both in and outside her social class. Rebecca’s first story about attempted conversion came in the form of her exchange with Mary Connell and her family. In 1863 she took particular interest in Mary Connell, the daughter of less-than-respectable citizens, in Rebecca’s opinion. Rebecca described the girl who took her hand one day in church: “She is not a remarkably winning child, her parents are uncouth and coarse, and all of her surroundings are inferior, but when she meets me her girlish face is sunny at once, and her smile of welcome settles down into my heart, so that I really love her.” Rebecca indicated that her goal was to convert the father through the child: “I would possess the charm to draw all hearts to mine by love’s sweet power, I wish I might influence her father for good.” Rebecca admitted that Mary’s mother was “trying” to be a Christian, and that there might be hope for this family. She determined to send Mary a didactic book called Pleasant Works in order to influence the family.33 Several months later she noted with satisfaction that her plan to elevate the Connells seemed 142

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to be working: “I saw Mary’s mother recently and heard her expressions of gratitude for the gift to her daughter, and I am real glad I sent it. I could not but contrast the pleased, deferential manner in which she addressed me, from what reports affirm of her. . . . I pray God for grace to win, love, and gain souls.”34 This series of entries reveals much about Rebecca’s sense of self. First, she defined herself as an important factor in this family’s conversion process—indeed, she almost went so far as to say that the responsibility for their conversion lay in her work with them. Second, she established herself as a member of the elite, but one with an egalitarian bent when it came to “winning souls” for Christianity. Rebecca was able to relate to this family religiously while simultaneously maintaining a healthy distance from people she considered her social inferiors, thus maintaining her gentility for the reader of this episode. Third, she used this one episode to claim that one of her most important roles is to “win, love, and gain souls.” This comment placed Rebecca almost on a ministerial level—which is a bit subversive. Because Rebecca’s religious values played a central role in her life, that she established herself as a woman able to win people over to her views suggests that she was fashioning a persona here that was extremely powerful in the religious community. Rebecca saw herself as social and religious commentator, as she prayed for those unconverted and rejoiced in those who found grace, as she had done as a child. For example, she overheard a discussion between her mother and her sister-in-law, Lydia, who did not attend church as often as Rebecca would have liked. She wrote, “O I do hope L. will resolve on this her 23rd birthday to let her future influence be more in favor of churchgoing.”35 She also confronted Lucy Bourne at a camp meeting. While lying in bed with Lucy, sharing religious experiences, Rebecca confessed that the one thing that would make her happy would be to see Lucy become a Methodist.36 Rebecca also used her introspective writing to suggest that she cared for all who were not converted as she was. She commented in 1865, “Last night I returned from prayer meeting with a deep burden on my soul for the impenitent.”37 Rebecca’s ability to pray for the unconverted or the wayward became a running theme in her journals, reinforcing her identity as strongly committed to her Christian values. She recorded her satisfaction when friends and family felt the “influence” of God. After one camp meeting, she wrote, “One conversion, Cousin Sarah Ellis of E. Villa. . . . Dear old campground, how I love it!”38 Another time Rebecca described a Methodist class meeting at which over more than a hunVisible and Invisible

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dred attendees were present. She commented that the class included forty “converts” accepted as provisional members, and these included her Uncle Calvin, five cousins, “and a number of dear, dear friends.”39 Perhaps Rebecca wrote of the conversion of her family and “dear, dear friends” because she wanted readers to understand that religion was central in her community network, or perhaps she wanted readers to think that she might have been partially responsible for their conversions. Despite her motive, Rebecca made clear that these conversions mattered a great deal to her. Rebecca’s conversion narratives indicate that she thought that her status as a church member and deeply religious woman gave her a stake in the conversion process of members. Rebecca probably wanted others to find the same comfort as she did in her religion, but another motive may have been behind her concern with converting others. When she focused on those who had not found grace, she reified her own identity as a church member with the status of one who had been saved. This elevated her position in the church community, and especially in juxtaposition to those she was trying to bring into the Methodist faith. It also allowed her to claim a great deal of power through her prose, casting herself as the central character in a running conversion narrative.

Philanthropy for the Church As important as Rebecca claimed her role to be in her narratives of church conversions, she also dedicated a tremendous amount of space in her journals to relating her charitable efforts for the church. Rebecca’s main philanthropic activities revolved around the Methodist Episcopal Church of West Sandwich. A reader of her public journals could conclude that she practically dedicated the rest of her life to this church. As she wrote in 1868, “My whole aim in life is to build up and support the Church, and cause of God. I only live for this object.”40 Rebecca’s focus on philanthropy is not surprising, as it was the purview of the genteel Victorian woman. Before the Civil War, middle-class Victorian women used the “work of benevolence” to prove women’s superior virtue, to impart that virtue to others, and to justify their role in shaping social movements while they reinforced their own class status. Philanthropic women often had great influence in distributing community resources, and it gave women ways to define themselves both as communities in and of themselves, and as part of their larger community. Victorian women particularly embraced philanthropic work as a way to connect with those outside their 144

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families and promote causes as diverse as temperance, education, and mission work outside the country, all the while maintaining their discursive ideology of domesticity. Rebecca considered herself a philanthropic woman, much as other ladies of her social class did. But times were changing, and Rebecca must have seen that her identity was fixed in a world fast disappearing. Women’s activities and roles changed in the late nineteenth century, too. The post–Civil War period saw the emergence of the “New Woman,” who defined the ideal at the turn of the century. College-educated, athletic, and motivated to change society, the “New Woman” emerged in professional fields like teaching, nursing, and social work. As early as the 1870s these women spearheaded public reform efforts in urban areas, and demanded equal access to education, employment, and the vote. They stood in stark contrast to their Victorian progenitors, who employed the argument of women’s superior virtue as their justification for engaging in efforts outside the home. In the face of this change, many middle-class and elite women such as Rebecca engaged in volunteer work to reinforce the concept of the “Victorian home.” For many women, the home still symbolized the retreat from the public world of danger and business, and the foundation for woman’s morality and virtue. Many women of Rebecca’s socioeconomic status actually engaged in philanthropic work at this time as a way to maintain what they saw as traditional moralistic values that were quickly fleeing in the face of this new society.41 Although Rebecca never explained her motivations for doing work for the church, her very traditional choice of philanthropy certainly centered her in the more traditional ideologies of true womanhood that defined women as genteel and focused on religious and family-oriented efforts. In many of her journal narratives, Rebecca fashioned herself as a key fundraiser for her church. In 1863 she wrote that she canvassed her neighborhood raising subscriptions for new church stoves. She recalled the reaction of “Bro. Swift,” the butcher, who “cheerfully” gave her $1 for the project. She did not stop at raising money for church stoves, however. In her financial ledger, she stated that she raised $140.39 during that year for many different church items and activities, which included the stove and stove pipes, missions, and the pastor’s salary.42 In 1865 Rebecca wrote that she started a new tradition on her birthday, making ice cream to raise money for the church parsonage. On the Fourth of July she recorded that she had raised $20 toward this end. The next year she noted, “Employed this day as last year, in making ice cream at the picnic. Realized twenty dollars for the Parsonage. Our minister Visible and Invisible

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Rebecca as a genteel middle-aged Victorian widow, surrounded by her beloved plants, a portrait of William, and other memorabilia from her trips overseas. Photograph courtesy of the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society.

moved into it in May. We hope to pay for it in good time.” Rebecca led the project—she went through the neighborhood collecting milk and eggs, and received enough money to make half a barrel of ice cream mixture. She then enlisted friends and her Cousin Mercie, who helped her sell ice cream for ten cents a glass. Seemingly satisfied with the project, she described her birthday, “I remember passing my previous birthdays in reading, many of them, but this one was filled with active industry.”43 Not only did this activity enable Rebecca to raise money for the church, but it also got her out of the tradition of spending her birthdays alone, often reflecting on William. Rebecca considered herself a proven, industrious, and creative fundraiser. Her journal entries describe her many activities, including the way she assisted in planning a Christmas exhibition for the church Sunday School to raise money for library books. The exhibition netted $29.44 She also became involved in repairing the structure of the church. In 1868 the church undertook a major renovation project, and Rebecca noted with satisfaction her own efforts in the project. She inserted a clipping from the newspaper describing the successful chowder dinner fund-raiser launched by the women of the 146

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church, in which they raised $80. The clipping also stated that all but $200 of the $3,600 renovation was paid off. Rebecca then wrote of her own personal contribution to the effort: “Long years the galleries have troubled me, seeming only a haunt for unruly boys, and last Spring I made the resolution to deny myself every luxury and give it for their removal if the people would consent. I even exchanged a set of furs purchased late in the winter, thinking I had rather see the Church repaired than wear them.” She ended up donating $157 for her pew rent and for repairs, and another $10 for the new carpet. She said that the renovations made the church look “tasteful—neat—and cozy.”45 By focusing on her own personal sacrifice of her furs, as well as the way in which she personally worked to improve the church, Rebecca continued to establish her centrality in this church community. Readers of Rebecca’s journals can see how important fund-raising was to the persona she wanted to create in this village narrative. Rebecca belonged to the Ladies’ Sewing Circle and Ladies’ Union Circle, both of which gave parties and suppers to help with church finances. She kept a clipping that she donated which reported that, in 1873, she sold lilies from her famous backyard garden and raised $10 for a Methodist Home.46 Rebecca may have wanted to create this persona for readers, but extant evidence suggests that the community gave her accolades for her efforts on behalf of the church. The local newspaper praised her for spearheading the campaign for a new church bell: “Much credit is due to Mrs. H. R. Burgess for her exertions in securing contributions from friends of the church for this and other needed repairs on the building.”47 Rebecca did not just write about her fund-raising abilities, however. In many of her entries, she mentioned her Sunday School classes. Rebecca was never a paid teacher, and her denomination prohibited her from the formal ministry. In recording her various activities here, however, Rebecca could manifest both a teaching and a preaching persona, albeit in a voluntary capacity. Rebecca wrote of how she greatly enjoyed the activity, and on one occasion noted her pleasure in teaching: “The interview last Eve was to me a very interesting one, and I enjoyed great liberty in speaking to each, their earnest, pleased, and animated countenances, encouraging my own heart greatly. I trust to do them good in our weekly meeting, by God’s Grace, and see them in the resurrection . . . God bless my youthful class!”48 Rebecca worked with the Sunday School for years. The Bourne Patriot noted that Rebecca was teaching the young ladies’ class after the school program reorganized in 1892. She continued to work until failing health forced her to give up her position, but even then she invited children to her home Visible and Invisible

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for informal Sunday School sessions. According to local legend, Rebecca invited children to pick a Chinese curio from her home, and she would tell the story behind the object and tie that story to a Bible lesson for the day. Apparently Rebecca was a popular fixture among the children of the community, as this portrayal suggests.49 Rebecca also wrote of her physical work for the church—the only place in her journals besides her landscaping of the cemetery in which she recorded any manual labor whatsoever. She noted that she often helped in the major cleaning projects of the church, which gave her a sense of ownership in the place. Rebecca headed church cleaning projects, beginning in 1861. On reading the journals, one gets a sense that Rebecca wanted to show that she was not afraid of hard work, for she noted her activities in 1863: “it is pleasant to work upon God’s edifice, & I am glad of the privilege. I have been every day since Tuesday P.M., and assisted in taking up and repairing the carpet, cleaning, &c.”50 Rebecca’s narration of these activities suggests that she had a sense of investment in her church—in effect, she could claim a kind of ownership in its future through her labor. After spending three days in taking up and cleaning the carpet, she recorded her feelings about the church fathers’ decision not to fix up the church to her satisfaction. She wrote: Although disappointed that the proprietors voted against painting it, and almost tempted to yield my voluntary office to others in the first announcement of their decision, yet the grieved heart rallied, after a long crying spell, and I resolved still to do what I could. . . . By God’s help I will improve my time in acts of worship, and strive to throw all my influence on behalf of his Church’s cause.51

Rebecca’s comment here provides insight into how she perceived “her” church and what she thought of the male proprietors who refused to acknowledge her request. She was able to criticize them but still retain the focus on her own efforts. Rebecca’s assessment of her work is significant here, in that she used her physical labors for the church as justification for her annoyance with the male power structure that decided against what, in her eyes, was a necessary church improvement. Although she had no power to vote in this situation, she understood that her work for the church provided her with influence, and she determined to work harder to influence those who could make these important decisions. Her work paid off, when, in 1867, she joyfully wrote: “Held a meeting at the church the 11th inst, and voted unanimously to paint 148

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outside the church and build a fence in front.” She continued to support the church as she worked with the Ladies’ Sewing Circle to supply the parsonage with “a good supply of creature comforts,” and as she landscaped the land outside the parsonage with shrubs and rosebushes.52 That there is evidence beyond Rebecca’s journals to support the fact that Rebecca’s work for the church made her a fixture in the community shows that her efforts for the church did, in fact, matter on many levels. Rebecca wanted a significant part of her persona to be that of a religious lady, dedicated to supporting the church financially, physically, and emotionally. Her own crafted narrative clearly positions her as a woman prominent in her church, but external evidence suggests that her work secured her a kind of “social capital”; that the people of her village recognized and applauded her efforts. This would help Rebecca establish a legacy after her death, as she was already a woman well known by those in her church during her life.

Gentility in the Scrapbook In case the casual reader did not glean Rebecca’s genteel character from her journal entries, she also made sure to donate a scrapbook containing dozens of clippings to the Sandwich Historical Society. The scrapbook is a typical one, large enough for several clippings per page and filled with colored construction paper on which to paste favorite pieces from magazines and newspapers. Rebecca’s scrapbook reflected and reified what was important to her, and she noted several times in her journal that it was out in public purview for anyone to read. She pasted in many reprints of Henry Ward Beecher’s sermons, whole articles from a Sunday School reader that she probably used in class, and poems on many subjects including flowers, nature, Christian conversion and faith, meeting loved ones in heaven, and grief. One article reflects the basic theme of the entire book. On one page Rebecca pasted a piece on “Woman’s Qualities” from the Home Journal that focused on women’s sweetness, grace, sensitivity, dependence, and devotion, next to articles on “Sunshine,” “Music,” and “Spring.” Underneath those she affixed a disparaging article on women’s rights activist and reformer Margaret Fuller written by Ralph Waldo Emerson, which criticized Fuller’s plainness and her penchant for satire. Rebecca inscribed these words next to the articles: “I love Sunshine, Music, and very, very dearly do I love the sweet Spring . . . Satire, I will repress—cultivating ‘Woman’s Qualities.’”53 Other articles Rebecca included in her scrapbook had titles like, “Recollection of a Prayer Meeting,” “Happy Women,” “Mission of a Smile,” “Our Visible and Invisible

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Moral Atmosphere,” and “Flowers Speak to the Heart.” Many of the articles had moralistic themes, focusing on forgiveness, patience, and love. Others themes addressed how to cultivate virtue, with titles such as “Live to Do Good.” Rebecca also collected the sentimental poems of Mrs. J. H. Hanaford, editor of the Victorian magazine Ladies’ Repository, and with whom Rebecca had a cordial personal relationship. Apparently she began a correspondence with Hanaford after reading several of her sentimental poems. Rebecca even recorded a visit from Hanaford in her scrapbook.54 Rebecca began this scrapbook in 1860 and maintained it for eight years. The articles she included were on traditional “women’s qualities”: sentimentality, religiosity, virtue, patience, and submission. Through this scrapbook Rebecca made the statement that whatever happened in the world, she would maintain her identity as a genteel lady with values society would have connected with “traditional womanhood.” While her activities gave her prominence in her community, they also reinforced her identity as a traditional lady of means, which remained an important part of her legacy.

The Unseen: Rebecca as Financier Rebecca portrayed an image of the grieving captain’s widow, philanthropist, and genteel lady in her public journals. Her gentility rested on her ability to purchase mourning gear and a monument for William, spend the majority of her life engaged in volunteer efforts that netted her no financial gain, and participating in and reflecting on her religious activities. Reading the journals Rebecca donated to the historical society gives one the sense that these actions dominated her life. Nestled in the cabinet on Rebecca Burgess in the Sandwich Glass Museum that was on display until 2007, however, lay an extremely interesting ledger that speaks to another important facet of Rebecca’s character—one she clearly did not want the public to notice or remember. This ledger sat for decades with its pages closed, unseen by anyone who did not have a key to the display case in which it rests. Inside the ledger portrays a financial reality that Rebecca felt unnecessary to display for public purview. We know about it only through the donation of John Tassinari, a distant relative who somehow gained access to the book. Though “local legend” has it that Rebecca made money in her widowhood by living off the interest gained by loans she made to friends and family,55 the fiscal ledger Rebecca kept from 1856 to 1868, and tax records, attest to a very different financial reality. 150

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Rebecca was left in a state of financial instability after William’s death. She did not intend to remarry, which made her ability to live off her widow’s inheritance even more critical.56 Her decision to remain a widow was not an unusual one, but it meant that she would have to depend on William’s bequest for another sixty years. As a young middle-class widow, Rebecca had few opportunities to make money. Many single women entered domestic service, but Rebecca’s stature as a genteel woman precluded that option. Many single women worked in the textile mills of Massachusetts, but their tenure in the factories lasted three to five years, and decreasing wages and poor benefits made many single women leave millwork after 1850. Rebecca most likely would not have been willing to take on industrial labor, which was more the purview of the working class and farm girls than it was middle-class widows. Middle-class women could work as teachers, and between 1825 and 1860 about a fourth of native-born women in Massachusetts taught in schools, usually before marriage. Rebecca was well educated, but there is no evidence that she ever attended the normal school in Hyannis, Cape Cod, so she was not prepared to teach. Louisa May Alcott, the famous author of Little Women, showed the possibilities of economic independence for single middle-class women. She served as a governess and teacher, as a nurse and seamstress, and even as a housemaid before becoming a successful author.57 Rebecca chose none of these routes. Instead, she moved back with her family and tried to make the best of William’s bequest. A look at the financial ledger Rebecca kept from 1856 to 1868 presents a stark reality in the early years of her widowhood. Forced to manage her finances at the age of twenty-two, Rebecca became a businesswoman with good sense and fiscal management skills. She made great investments and business decisions, which turned her husband’s modest estate into a great amount of money. Her business acumen allowed Rebecca to cast herself as a widow left with a great deal of money, when, in reality, she spent her life making money by creating an investment portfolio that would increase through the decades. Rebecca incurred many expenses over the course of her travels home. She had to pay travel expenses for herself and the steward David Graves, who accompanied her all the way to Sandwich. She made arrangements for William’s body and her baggage to be transported on other ships. She had to pay for medicine, mourning clothes, and boarding in Panama while she waited for an Atlantic steamer. She made a list of the mounting expenses resulting from her journey home and for her husband’s monument, and kept this list Visible and Invisible

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in an account registry that she used from 1857 to 1868. This registry underscores the hard work that Rebecca did to keep afloat financially after her husband’s death. In 1857 Rebecca totaled the expenses related to her husband’s demise, which came to a figure of $1,841.50. This was at a time when the average working-class Bostonian made between $357.54 and $515.10 a year.58 It appears that Rebecca had to keep an account of her expenses for William’s shipping company, W. & F.H. Whittemore & Co., which provided her with the money for these expenses against William’s pay. In the end she owed the shipping company about $24. The company did provide her with a stipend, perhaps as a prearranged insurance plan, and Rebecca was left with William’s nautical equipment, which she would arrange to rent and sell.59 Rebecca watched her cash on hand dwindle as she tried to settle the estate. In March 1857 she recorded $74.00; in April she had $50.25 left; and by May she had $44.00.60 Rebecca had to turn into a businesswoman or be left in serious financial straits, reliant on the largesse of her family. First she made an agreement with Mr. Winsor, former first mate and new captain of the Challenger, to lease William’s large chronometer, charts, and pilot coat. In August 1857 she received $112.62 from this venture. Then she tried to make arrangements to sell some of William’s nautical instruments through the shipping company’s agent in London. When that proved impossible, she retrieved the instruments and gave them to her father-in-law, who sold them in his store. Rebecca netted $314.08 from the sale. As she noted in her accounts registry, “The instruments are now all sold. I mean them belonging to me, and sold well.”61 Moreover, Rebecca began selling items that she had on hand, often to relatives. In her accounts receivable for August 1857, she recorded that she had sold clothing and silk for $20.52. A page from October 1857 reports that she sold yarn and linen cloth. She also sold a shirt to her sister-in-law and received pew rent, most likely from a relative. These sales netted her $6.75. Rebecca would continue to report sales of clothing and jewelry, possibly in an attempt to make ends meet.62 Ultimately, when William’s estate settled, Rebecca received $1,630, which, in 2008, came to just over $41,000 and would equal a bit more than three years’ salary for a highly paid working-class man. The settlement process took until May 1858, and Rebecca’s comments reflect that the process might have caused tension in the Burgess household. She recorded that her fatherin-law received $550, and her sisters-in-law each received $100. She also noted that she made about $170 in “sale of presents to them unknown.” Was Rebecca withholding financial information from her in-laws? Indicating that 152

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she had some difficulty with the family during the process, Rebecca wrote: “Everything is sold, and I have written agreement with Father & Mother B. that what I now have is mine alone.”63 Might William’s parents have fought for money? In 1852, before William departed alone on his first journey as a married man, he wrote a note in Rebecca’s journal to his parents indicating that he wanted all his belongings to go to Rebecca, provided she remained unmarried.64 Though this statement would not have held up in court as a legitimate will, as there were no witnesses and it is not a formal statement, William made it clear that Rebecca should have received everything in his estate. At the time most states did not automatically turn over estates to widows; in fact, the focus in the nineteenth century was on the property rights of children.65 Without a legitimate will, Rebecca had no grounds to legally fight for the entire estate. Perhaps she chose to give money to William’s family, but her comments about the process suggest that the settlement of the estate did not go entirely without conflict. Whatever the settlement process may have been, Rebecca ultimately did keep $1,630. While not an insignificant amount, it would not be enough for Rebecca to support herself for the rest of her life, particularly since she lived another six decades. Rebecca took the money William left her and parlayed it into an estate worth more than $12,400 in cash and $660 in personal property at the time of her death in 1917. In 2008 her entire estate would be worth over $219,000. How did Rebecca make that kind of money? She inherited $1,500 upon her father’s death and $500 from her mother, and she did not pay for food or housing, as she lived with her family.66 Though this explains how she saved money and received some from an inheritance, it does not tell the whole story of how she built her estate. Rebecca became a modern businesswoman upon her husband’s death. She immediately entered into a lease agreement with Captain Winsor, and she also used her lump sum payment as capital in an investment scheme. Through at least 1868 Rebecca loaned money to her family and friends and lived off the interest. This finance scheme is not unusual; many widows took up financing loans and providing capital, and, like Rebecca, they usually engaged in business with close family and friends.67 Each year in her account log, she recorded the notes due her. In 1858 she held notes on eight men, ranging from $50 to $300. Some were family members; she recorded two notes against her father for $127 and $95. Others were members of the Sandwich community; she held notes against Elisha Bangs for $300 and Bangs Hallett for $80. She also continued to rent out the chronometer, this time to Visible and Invisible

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Mr. Bartlett for $120. Rebecca understood that her business was lucrative; she wrote: “During the close of 1858 I am better off by $302. My interest for 1859 will be $98.92.”68 Rebecca continued to hold notes though 1863, but in 1861 she expanded her “investment portfolio” yet again. In her list of notes for the year, she again listed her father, Benjamin Burgess, James Bliss, and “M. B.” as owing her money, but she also noted that she had $265 at the Barnstable Savings Bank. That year she recorded the interest she received on these investments as $140.58. With this income, in addition to the $25 she received “Last time F. B. [Father Burgess] was to B. [Boston]” and the $5 she received for being sextant of the church, she had enough to pay her expenses and to save $38.48.69 Rebecca managed her finances closely and carefully. Her account registry records every expense she incurred and every bit of income she received for each month over a seven-year period. A sample page from her register suggests how meticulous she was in keeping track of expenditures. On it, she listed expenses during February 1861, including $1.00 to William Ellis, 13 cents as a donation to the “S. Society,” and 54 cents in postage stamps. She carefully recorded several of her receipts as well, including $1.00 for knitting hose, 9 cents for cotton hose, and 10 cents for paper70 Every year Rebecca would also tally up all these expenses and categorize them, comparing them against her income. In 1859 she wrote: “Sold in all, this year, $10.25[,]” and the inventory included hose, buttons, shirts, cloth, and shoes, which she sold to her brothers, her sister-in-law, and her sister.71 In 1860 she incurred expenses traveling and purchasing clothing, books, stationery, stamps, and presents. She also donated money to benevolent causes. Her income in this year, $23.47, did not cover her expenses of $77.07, so she must have had to dip into her savings to cover some of these costs.72 Rebecca sometimes borrowed money from her family to cover everyday living expenses, but as with all her transactions, she maintained a businesslike manner. In 1859 she noted: “Borrowed of Father B. $10.00 to put with the Chro. Money as above. Shall pay him with Int. on B. Hallet’s note in April of 18.00.”73 The following year she listed her creditors as her sister, “M.,” her father-in-law and father, and another “M.” The total she borrowed from these individuals was $35.18, and she carried the debt and recorded the interest owed from May through July, when she apparently discharged the debts with the money she received from the interest from Uncle Lewis Howes’s note, as she had originally planned.74 Most of these transactions occurred between Rebecca and her family, and occasionally her neighbors. It might lead one to question whether the family 154

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was, in fact, providing Rebecca with the means of survival while still allowing her to keep her autonomy and dignity. Did Tommie, Lizzie, her sister-inlaw Lydia, and Hiram need to purchase items from Rebecca? Did her uncle, father, and father-in-law need the money she loaned them?75 We can never know the answer, of course, but, in Rebecca’s eyes, all these transactions were formal business proceedings. To her, the loans and the sales of her clothing and items she produced provided her with the income necessary to survive for the next sixty years of her life. Later in her life, during the time when she promoted herself as a genteel and religious philanthropist, Rebecca would continue to make sound investments to build upon the small sum that William had left to her. At the same time that Rebecca reinforced her image as a philanthropic, churchgoing lady, whose ability to work for the church rested in her great amount of leisure time and her traditional outlook on life, she shrewdly built up a small fortune with sound investments.76 Rebecca managed to live off her loans, but her estate settled upon her death was more than $13,000 at a time when $800 would maintain a family of four for a year and factory workers often made no more than $400 annually.77 One wonders how did Rebecca make that much money. The interest she received from the loans she made amounted to little compared to her greatest investments, which she made sometime during the 1870s. Rebecca took advantage of the emerging financial market and invested wisely. A look at Rebecca’s will suggests that she had what in modern terms would be called an extremely diversified financial portfolio upon her death. Whether anyone assisted her in making investments is unknown, but clearly Rebecca had good business sense and understood how to manage her money on her own. Upon her death she had $2,829 in seven different financial institutions. The deposits in each ranged from just over $40 to just over $800, but most deposits ranged from $300 to $400. She also had a bit over $660 hidden in her house. In 1917, before the Federal Deposit Insurance Company (FDIC) insured investors’ bank accounts, spreading out assets over different banks made excellent financial sense. Even if one bank failed and she lost her money there, she would still hold on to a majority of her assets. Rebecca invested her money in banks she trusted, all of them local. She had money in many financial institutions, including the Cape Cod Savings Bank in Harwich, the Plymouth Savings Bank, and the Fall River Savings Bank. The furthest financial institution with which she invested was located in Brookline, Massachusetts.78 Rebecca increased her investments by diversifying her interests in banks scattered across the eastern coast of Massachusetts, but even this did not Visible and Invisible

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secure her the enormous estate listed in her will. In fact, the bulk of Rebecca’s estate rested in fifty-nine Swift & Co. shares that she purchased over the course of her life. The earliest issue certificate is numbered B 348, which suggests a very early date in the life of the company’s stock trading. Rebecca bought shares nine times, in purchases ranging from four to sixteen shares at a time. Rebecca was related to the Swift family, and she had intimate connections to them. Sarah Swift wrote the memorial poem on William’s grave, and the family was as active in the Methodist Church community as Rebecca was. The church is now named “Swift Memorial” because of the large donation given to the church to rebuild after a fire. Gustavus Swift, the man who would become the meatpacking magnate of Chicago, started with humble origins. According to Rebecca’s brother-in-law, Gustavus helped his brother butcher sheep for one penny a head. He ventured out on his own with help from several of his family members, including his uncle, Paul Crowell Jr., who loaned him $600 to get started.79 By 1875 Swift had moved to Chicago to work in the stockyards. He incorporated as Swift & Co. in 1885 with $300,000 in stock capital. Swift expanded his business until he had meatpacking plants in seven states. He revolutionized supply lines with his vertically integrated business that linked cattle farmers, transportation, and packing plants into an efficient unit, controlled entirely by the company. Swift also made money by using animal by-products to create everything from oleomargarine to buttons. By 1905 Swift & Co. was worth $50 million.80 Notably this stock purchase was the only one Rebecca ever made. Possibly, not unlike other Victorian “businesswomen,” Rebecca focused on dealing primarily with trusted family and friends. Many Victorian women chose to conduct business with people with whom they already had established relationships, not an unusual pattern given that most widows were not trained to conduct business and were easy marks for scam artists. Because Rebecca purchased stock from a “known entity”—the Swift family—this transaction could be considered conservative rather than speculative. In making this single series of stock transactions, Rebecca was like many other widows who did not speculate much because of their already modest means and because they feared getting into debt. This mentality served Rebecca well, as the Swift family made good on their small Cape Cod business venture.81 Rebecca made a fortune from her stock purchase. In 1896 the Sandwich Independent noted, “Sagamore [formerly West Sandwich] is justly proud of her former citizens.” It reported that the stock was paying 21 percent dividends, to the total amount of over $10 million to its investors in less than ten years.82 The dividend checks Rebecca received were an investor’s dream; 156

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today, the Standard &Poor 500 dividend average is about 1.6 percent. It is possible, however, that Rebecca did not even know how much money she had. In her will she listed disbursements of only $3,350. She also paid no taxes until 1885, when she became half-owner of the house and grounds that Paul Crowell Jr. had left to her mother. Whereas personal property such as pianos, furniture, bicycles, livestock, and securities figured into other residents’ valuations, Rebecca’s accumulation of wealth went unnoticed, at least by the tax collector. For example, in 1903 Sarah Barlow paid $51.50 on $4,300 worth of securities. Rebecca paid only $1.20 on $100 worth of personal property. By 1910 Rebecca listed her personal estate as $1,000 and her house and barn at $1,500, and she paid $34 in taxes. This, however, grossly undervalued her actual accumulated wealth.83 Rebecca’s business ventures were not unusual for a widow of her time. Historian Lisa Waciega studied widows from southeast Pennsylvania who lived during the period of 1750 to 1850 and found that many widows increased the inheritance left them by their husbands. In fact, these women were aware of financial intricacies of the American market, conducted business on their own behalves, and kept meticulous records of their earnings. In this way they subverted the paradigm of “domestic space” as they freely and comfortably moved about the “public” world of business and finance. Of these widows, 43 percent died with more money than they received as an inheritance, and so Rebecca’s experience was clearly not unique.84 Rebecca stands out, however, because for all of her business acumen, she never once mentioned her finances in her journals. Considering all the detail she maintained in describing other aspects of her life, Rebecca’s silence on this matter is palpable. It is not as though the community did not know what she was up to, at least in terms of making loans, since she loaned money to many prominent people in her village. But she kept all these records in a single account log that she did not donate to the museum. The only money matters she addressed in the donated journals referred to her fund-raising efforts for the church. In this way Rebecca held on to her identity as a wealthy captain’s widow. Her obituary reflected Rebecca’s success in achieving a persona as a lady of leisure and a woman of wealth: “Having inherited means, she administered the trust wisely and benevolently while she lived.”85 This reflects the centrality of financial issues in Rebecca’s life. In order to retain her identity as the captain’s widow, she needed to find a way to be financially independent. By actually surviving as a successful businesswoman, she could focus on building her persona as a wealthy widow. It is also important to keep in mind that while Rebecca made good business decisions that landed Visible and Invisible

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her wealth later in life, when she returned from Valparaiso she was a woman with few means of her own and with an uncertain financial future. Why did Rebecca not want the public to know about her fiscal condition? Did she even know how much money she had? That her will bequests had to be adjusted twice because of the vast amounts she left suggests that she had no idea of the amount of money she had made in stocks. Still, she clearly knew about money she had ferreted away in her house and secured across various banks around the region. All this speaks to her financial skill. But it does not reveal why she would keep her ledger from the public. That Rebecca made loans was known, but perhaps it was not widely understood that she felt the need to keep meticulous financial records through the early 1860s. At this point Rebecca stopped recording every tiny purchase; perhaps she finally felt secure in her accumulated wealth. At any rate, maybe Rebecca thought that people had little interest in these records—after all, they tell us nothing about the woman who sailed in the ship Challenger with her husband. In fact, at some point, a curator must have borrowed the book from Tassinari to make a copy, as a partial photocopy does rest in Rebecca’s archival box at the museum. But instead of copying the entire book, she made the notation “same for 1860–1861.” She, too, may have found little of interest in Rebecca’s finances. But I think there is more to this story. Rebecca wanted to be remembered as the woman who remained true to her husband for sixty years after his death; as the woman who helped take the ship to port as William lay dying; and as the genteel lady who lived off her husband’s wealth as she worked to help her church and her community, surrounded by her friends. She may have thought this financial ledger too distracting from the story she wanted to tell, but I believe that it adds an important component to her identity that deserves to be acknowledged.

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7 From Legacy to Legend

clipping. pasted in journal and with entry date of nov. 16th 1864 a possible relic of a shipwreck boston, nov 11, 1864 To the Editor of the Boston Journal I have just received from Mr. William Dolan of Hong Kong, a small Bible, bound in red velvet and gold, on the front leaf of which is the writing “Presented David Graves, by Mrs. Rebecca H. Burgess, Boston, Feb. 10, 1857.” The Bible was given to Capt. Saunders of the American schooner Salamander, at Zana Sui, in the island of Formosa, by a Mr. Denison of that place, and by Capt. Saunders to Mr. Dolan, and sent by Mr. Dolan to me, in the hope that it might throw light upon the fate of some American vessel lost on the coast of Formosa. As I have no clue to either of the persons whose names appear on the book, I must ask of you to do me the favor to publish this note, and of the editors of other papers to reprint it, for the benefit of all who may be interested in the subject. Very respectfully, Your obedient servant, Richard H. Dana, Jr.1

Rebecca had been telling her family and friends the story of William’s death for years, and had even begun to write her reminiscences for the wider public. But this remarkable event—the return of her Bible through the noted maritime author Richard Henry Dana—may have made Rebecca think that her story had potential to inspire a wide audience, even long after her own |

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demise. It is at this point in her life—particularly in the 1870s and beyond— that we have evidence that Rebecca began shaping her own legend for the community. During this time Rebecca added to her story significantly, in a way that made her appear even more the exciting, romantic heroine in her own maritime tale. By making a point to recount her version of her maritime experience to the wider community, Rebecca ensured the perpetuation of her persona, not only as William’s loving wife but also as a woman who “saved” the Challenger’s ship and crew from “certain peril” as William lay dying.

The Bible Returns In 1864 Rebecca’s story went public to an audience beyond Cape Cod, when a Bible she gave the ship’s steward ended up returning to her. As Rebecca narrated the story, “A little Bible gift to [William’s] attendant who accompanied me home by his request, has very singularly come back to me, as seen by the prints opposite, awakening a host of memories.”2 In November Rebecca was sitting alone late in the evening, reading old newspapers, including the Boston Daily Journal. She wrote: “I had read the front page when running my eyes down the columns of the next, I saw my own name.” What she had seen was an article entitled “A Possible Relic of Shipwreck” by the famed lawyer and author of Two Years Before the Mast, Richard Henry Dana Jr. The Bible had come to him from Hong Kong, after it had been transported by three different people. It was in a market in Taiwan, where it was for sale as scrap off a shipwreck. Inscribed on the inside was “Presented David Graves by Mrs. Rebecca H. Burgess, Boston, February 10, 1857.” Dana put the story in the paper in an attempt to ascertain the whereabouts or the fate of the owner. As Rebecca read that newspaper alone in the parlor, she must have experienced great shock. Later she recalled her feelings: “I was almost petrified with astonishment, and my first impulse was to apprise my parents and brothers.” Although they did not awaken when she called for them, she could not sleep for the excitement.3 She noted in her journal that reading Dana’s article brought back memories of the day she and William purchased the Bible on Washington Street in Boston, how she reversed her name on the inscription, which was the only time in her memory she had done that, and how she had not heard from Graves since he left aboard the Ringleader in 1858. She had word that the Ringleader had wrecked, and that he was acting as a steward on land in Shanghai. She also noted the serendipity of the Bible’s return: “Everything associated with my dear departed husband seems to be happily wafting thitherwards.”4 160

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Twenty-five-year old Rebecca sat for this photograph and slipped it in a frame next to her husband’s picture taken in his twenty-fifth year. Photograph courtesy of the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society.

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Rebecca’s Bible as it looked after its return from Formosa (Taiwan). Photograph courtesy of the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society.

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Rebecca immediately contacted Dana, and she told him of her experiences on the sea with her husband. She explained why the Bible meant so much to her: “It charms a thousand things to memory. Carries me back to the pleasant years of ocean life.” She even suggested that the story of the Bible’s seven years of wanderings would “make a pleasant theme for our gifted Longfellow, Whittier, or Lovells.”5 Dana kept the Bible in his office at the U.S. Customs House until Rebecca’s cousin, William Gibbs, came to pick it up the following Wednesday. She was delighted to receive the “waif,” as Dana called it in his article, and quoted Luke 5:26 “We have seen strange things today.”6 It turns out that the Bible was, in fact, an artifact from the wreck of the clipper ship Ringleader.7 This remarkable story propelled Rebecca’s experiences beyond the bounds of her immediate community. That it came to be in Dana’s possession may have heightened Americans’ interest in the story. Dana had spent two years aboard the brig Pilgrim when Rebecca was just a baby, and several years later he penned Two Years Before the Mast, a memoir of his experience. Dana’s book was widely heralded and read upon its publication in both America and England.8 Whatever the reason, Rebecca quickly understood how much traction this story was receiving in the press. Rebecca pasted a clipping in her journal from the Boston Daily Journal. Titled “The Waif,” the clipping told the story of Rebecca and William, and how David Graves took care of them. The article mentioned the amazing return of the Bible but did not mention Rebecca’s heroic efforts to navigate the ship. Rebecca included two other stories from the Boston Daily Journal about the Bible, and her friend, the poet Mrs. Hanaford, wrote a poem dedicated to the event. Her poem, “The Waif,” was published in the Boston Daily Journal. Rebecca took her Bible on a visit to her extended family in Dennis, and she learned that a local Cape Cod reporter and distant relative was also planning to write an article about her experiences and the return of the Bible.9 At some point her fame transcended New England. She clipped a reprint from a local paper, which was originally in the New York paper Mexico Independent. The New York paper virtually lifted passages from Rebecca’s letters to Dana and to other men who transported the Bible back to Boston, and it highlighted the drama associated with the events. It reported: Years ago this good woman . . . was united in marriage to Capt. Burgess. She sailed with her noble husband three years; when alone, with the solitary help of a steward, she watched and nursed him through a brief and violent sickness, which ended in death, in foreign waters, December, 1856. From Legacy to Legend

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Before the sad parting, he bade her “meet him in heaven,” requested that his body be carried home, and also that the steward accompany his sorrowing wife to Boston.10

These stories focused completely on Rebecca’s devotion to her dying husband, and they deepened the sense of drama surrounding William’s death and told Rebecca’s story to people well beyond the confines of her village. This experience may have suggested to Rebecca that her story was compelling enough to become a legend. After this point Rebecca expended the most effort to ensure that her maritime legacy would be remembered, as she recounted her tale to schoolchildren, remembered China in articles for the newspaper, and left her collection of curios and journals to a public institution.

Rebecca’s Memories in Print Even before the return of the Bible, however, Rebecca experimented with sharing her maritime stories with the general public. She became an author in 1861, when she published “In Memoriam” in the Barnstable Patriot, one of the major Cape Cod papers of the era. In this lengthy article, Rebecca told the story of the young sailor who fell overboard while working on the Challenger. She described the young man as a favorite of the crew, just as she had noted at the time in her journal. She also wrote a compelling description of life at sea: Onward swept the noble ship to her destined haven! Propitious breezes swelled her canvas,--bright, joy inspiring sunshine, danced along her waters,--and eager hearts watched her progress exultantly; . . . Scattered in groups along her decks, the strange, uncouth, children of the “Celestial empire,” chattered in their own vernacular.11

She went on to describe William: “proudly glancing ‘slow and aloft,’—and pacing with quickening step and bearing countenance.” She talked of losing the popular sailor overboard, and the unsuccessful and desperate attempts to save him. She also mentioned her own personal loss: “One year later, again on the Pacific, we feared an Ocean burial. Commander and shipmate, have met on that ‘Unknown Shore.’”12 She signed this piece “H. R. B.,” an effort, perhaps, to protect her identity from those who did not know her but also to alert her friends and family to the fact that she was now an author and to remind them of her experiences. 164

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Rebecca continued to write for the local papers. We do not have many extant copies of the Sandwich or Bourne papers, but several examples of Rebecca’s work in those papers exist, some unsigned. For example, a 1900 “Sagamore” article in the Sandwich Independent talked of her calla lily, which bloomed for thirty years in a “rare old oriental vase.” As she remembered, “We were sailing up the Canton river towards Whampoa, China, in the clipper ship Challenger, when a friend surprised us by coming aboard and presenting these wonderful vases, on a long ago Christmas day.”13 Several months later she noted in an article that the brilliant plumage of the spring birds reminded her of “a boat load of canaries, in rare and delicate tortoise shell ivory cages” that a trader brought up to the ship after they left Hong Kong, “just in time for us to secure a pair of yellow beauties for the long voyage to London.”14 Even though these pieces were unsigned, their origins are clear, and community members would have recognized Rebecca as the author if they had spent time with her and listened to her stories. In all these stories Rebecca took material recorded in her journal, often in just one or two sentences in the original version, and added details that significantly heightened the drama and intensity of her experiences. In her published work she continued the trend she began in her journals of adding to her memories as the years passed. Perhaps for Rebecca, recounting her constructed memories was becoming the best mechanism for her to continue to build the persona of maritime heroine, which she now appeared to want to transmit to the larger community. Rebecca’s attempts to construct this persona was successful, as others began to see her as a living relic of the nineteenth-century maritime world. Often journalists mentioned Rebecca’s voyages in their columns. One reporter wrote of the Chinese Empress Tuen, who did not have her feet bound. This, in the journalist’s opinion, was a great help to the “free foot societies” of China. The column mentioned that “Rebecca Burgess brought a tiny pair of high caste ladies shoes from China, a real curiosity.”15 Another article noted: “Mrs. H. R. Burgess was recently most agreeably surprised by receiving a large cluster of oranges. . . .They recalled to her pleasant associations of foreign voyages to Peru and Hawaii, where she also gathered the fruit, fresh from the trees.”16 A year later a journalist reported on Rebecca’s calla lily, which had now been blooming for forty-five years without being removed from the vase. The journalist repeated this story two years later.17 Newspapers made Rebecca’s story public. Although no evidence suggests whether Rebecca actively solicited reporters’ attention, her own contributions to the papers suggest that she was trying to keep the story of her travels From Legacy to Legend

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alive. By focusing on her travels in the newspaper, Rebecca personified the loyal wife and companion who made extraordinary travels around the world. In this way she reached out not only to family and friends but also to the larger community as either the author or the subject of the stories. While a stranger would not necessarily have recognized Rebecca’s unsigned pieces, an acquaintance certainly would. Rebecca’s story was now in print and would stay that way for posterity.

The Plot Thickens At some point Rebecca added yet again to the memory of her husband’s last days aboard the Challenger, and it is this compelling story that most lives on in the community today. We do not know when she began to tell this portion of the tale, but, as she aged, this narrative became a repeated trope when Rebecca recalled the events of her youth. The story Rebecca told went like this: As William lay dying, Rebecca faced yet another burden aboard the ship. The first mate, Mr. Winsor, did not know how to use the chronometer, and so the duty fell to Rebecca to safely get the ship to shore. Had Rebecca failed in her duty, the crew, the ship, and its valuable cargo of guano, would have been lost at sea. Rebecca never told this version of the story when her Bible was returned in the 1860s, and, in fact, the first recorded evidence we have of it is not until the 1880s. It is hard to determine when Rebecca started telling this narrative, because most of the information we have about it comes through a letter Rebecca wrote toward the end of her life, possibly when she knew she would not have much time left to tell her story. Rebecca claims that she told this story to many schoolchildren, and we do have evidence that she made presentations to the local schools. Apparently Rebecca spoke of many subjects to the students, but she managed to link all the presentations to her maritime heritage. The Bourne Pioneer included news about Rebecca’s presentations in an 1897 article: “This in a letter from a lady of rare intelligence in our community, who, though confined at home by ill health, keeps in touch with all the interests of the place, educational and religious. . . . This lady opened her beautiful rooms Monday evening for the Grammar School pupils to have ‘An evening with China,’ [as] she has many valuable curios brought by her from that far away land.”18 Rebecca was able to educate the children about her views on Chinese culture and society, and at the same time she inextricably linked herself to “far away” adventures in the minds of the young students.

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In her last donated letter Rebecca said that in her presentations she would tell of the first mate’s inadequacies in “reckoning up a column of figures correctly when in school.” She blamed his failure to navigate on his schooling. As she wrote, “I have found much pleasure, in showing this ship’s log book, to groups of grammar and high-school pupils, telling them of the importance of mastering their studies, and acquiring the habit of accuracy, so that if placed in a critical or important position they might not lose confidence in themselves, as Mr. Winsor did.”19 Rebecca believed that she connected with many schoolchildren in these formal presentations. She made it a point to share her maritime tales with the young students, imparting her legacy through education and storytelling. As she said: In my frequent interviews with school pupils I have made this an object lesson and upon showing them my logbook kept on this memorable voyage from London to the Chincha Islands, and returns to France, as far as Valparaiso, have said the difference between Mr. Winsor’s inefficiency, and my correct work, lay in the foundations laid, in early life, & have always enjoined on them to master their lessons.20

She did take care to note, however, that Mr. Winsor ended up “rising to the occasion” by working hard and learning navigation as he captained the ship to France. Rebecca obviously enjoyed the interaction with the students, and she gained a group of admirers, who would remember “Aunt Rebecca” fondly and help to perpetuate her story. In these discussions with students, she took care to relate the story of her heroism, placing it in the context of her selfless act in saving the ship. She also provided an important explanation for Mr. Winsor’s ability to captain the ship after William’s demise, explaining that he learned later how to navigate using chronometer readings. We must rely on Rebecca’s memory for evidence of her repeating the story of Winsor’s “inadequacies” to schoolchildren. The newspaper story never mentions that portion of her presentation. I have to believe, however, that she did recount this story over and over again, as it is the version that “stuck” with the community. Also significant is that Rebecca spent so much time focusing on her China travels. A reading of her very brief entries about China suggests that she was less than impressed with her stay there. So why craft such exotic memories for schoolchildren? Perhaps Rebecca thought that by refashioning her stories about her voyage there, she could make more of an impact

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on those who might better remember vivid details about China, rather than know that she said China had little to offer beyond some decent curios. In case her efforts through the newspapers and with children did not solidify her legacy, Rebecca also took care to make notes narrating her activities aboard the Challenger in great detail. Some of these notes reside at the Bourne Historic Commission, others at the Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society. Relatives donated two postcards to the Bourne Historic Commission. In one Rebecca recalled her version of how she had saved the ship. She wrote: “No other person on board ship understood navigation & had I not practiced . . . all would have been lost.” She described taking William the log book every day, and she noted, “He would say—each time—‘Be brave’ and ‘Don’t lose heart or courage.’” A relative or friend must have filled out the back of the other postcard, but it gives the same message: “Had Mrs. Burgess once faltered or lost courage during these 22 days . . . all would have been lost. She had a crew of 30 men—four officers—cook—and steward and Captain’s wife.”21 Nothing illustrates Rebecca’s desire to create a legacy built on that fateful voyage more than the letter she wrote at the end of her life to explain the donation of the Challenger “log book” to the Sandwich Historical Society. At this time she narrated a complete version of the story of her voyages with William, from embarking upon her first trip aboard the Whirlwind to his eventual death aboard the Challenger, to her sad voyage back to Boston. In the letter she explained why the first mate Winsor could not navigate—he wasn’t good with figuring numbers and did not work at it—and how the steward David Graves made a promise to William to return Rebecca to Boston: I had the care and attention of David Graves, the steward of our ship, a mulatto from Philadelphia who had been with us, during all the voyages, since sailing from San Francisco. He was a most devoted friend to my husband, & tenderly cared for him during his [my husband’s] severe illness. Soon after my husband’s death, he came to me saying “he had promised my husband, ‘on the square,’ that both being Free Masons, to accompany me to the United States, and not leave me until he had seen me safely in his father’s home in Boston, or my parents home in W. Sandwich” adding, “I want you to tell me in the presence of these ships officers, that I may do so” for I should never know a moments peace of mind, should I break that solemn promise made to a dying man, your estimable husband.” You certainly shall keep your word, I replied.22 168

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Rebecca laced her letter with praise for the faithful steward, whom she said died of cholera on a foreign shore after she narrated the following about his promise: “Every time when from complete exhaustion, caused by much weeping, and deep anxiety you would seek the sofa, in the Challenger’s cabin, for a little rest,” he said, “Capt. Burgess, would call me to his bedside, and plan for your journey home to Boston, always adding, ‘you will solemnly promise me never to leave my precious wife until you see her safely to my father’s home in Boston.’” Never was such a solemn promise to a dying man more faithfully carried out. Mr. Graves, immediately after my husband’s death, said to me “Mrs. Burgess, you will not need to enter your former stateroom, to take the chronometer time, while the first officer takes the sun’s altitude, as has been your custom, all these years, as whenever there was an opportunity, and we were alone, your husband had me practiced, and now I can take your place, there.” Then he said, O so feelingly, “your husband added to his request that I become efficient in this work,” the statement which I know to be true, “my wife can never come to this room again, after my spirit passes away, her tears would prevent her seeing the figures on the chronometer, even had she strength enough to perform the work.”23

Graves was not the only hero of the story, however. Rebecca herself claimed a central role in this new narrative she crafted. She made her story even more dramatic by narrating events surrounding William’s decision to sail for Valparaiso: From this long experience of years, I acquired the habit of familiarity, and accurateness, so that when after loading with guano at the Chinchas the question aroused in my husband’s mind, which course to pursue, whether to sail direct from the Islands & straight on to Valparaiso, Chile, for medical attendance for Capt. Burgess, or go to the mainland of Peru S.A. and procure another Captain, thus making the voyage several days longer, my husband decided to sail direct from the Islands. His reply to the Captains at the Islands who remonstrated with him, saying “your first officer is incompetent to work out the ship’s latitude & longitude, and your clipper ship with its valuable cargo, and full of From Legacy to Legend

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complement of officers & crew will never be heard from” his reply was “my wife has navigated the Challenger in these 19 months, and is fully capable of doing so now, and the delay in going to Callao may cost me my life,” He had great faith in the efficacy of medical attention, should we reach Valparaiso, Chile. On the day of sailing, many of the Ship’s Captains who were at the Islands, loading for different ports, came on land, thinking they might even yet persuade Capt. Burgess to change his mind, and go to Callao for a Capt. How plain and vivid it seems to me as I write this account after sixty years have elapsed, I can see the sumptuous cabins of the Challenger, elegant in its appointments, for it was a beautiful ship and one of the finest built in those days of our supremacy on the seas, when in nearly every port floated the stars & stripes. I remember sitting on a sofa in one of the recesses in the after cabin, crying on account of my husband’s illness, which was of an intestinal nature, when after arguing vainly with my husband, they came to my side, saying, “Now Mrs. Burgess if you will advise your husband to go to Callao for a Capt. he will do so, & you ought to do so, because the ship will be lost if you do not.” “I don’t think anything about that” I said, “I simply think of my husband’s life, and what a shorter voyage to Valparaiso, for a physician, may mean to him.” Then they were enraged & stormed noisily, saying, “Hear her, she is dazed, she does not know what she says, on the peril of sailing under such conditions” but amid all their vehemence, I remained unmoved. I knew I was capable of navigating the ship from months of experience, and did not even show the Captains, who were sincere in their efforts, this little log book, showing the work I had done, each day since sailing from London during the four months voyage. It did not even occur to me to do so. My mind & thoughts were occupied with the serious illness of my husband, who during all this time lay in his berth, unable to move. He was firm in his belief that it was best to sail direct from the Islands, trusting for a quick passage to Valparaiso and relief by medical attendance while there.24

It is also in this letter that Rebecca cast herself as the single heroine of ship and crew:

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Knowing [that William had taught Graves to take chronometer readings], I said on the next day which was Friday, Dec 12 1856, I cannot work out the ship’s position today, please tell Mr. Winsor the first officer he understands the principles, and you must assist him, and together you can do the work, after this Mr. Winsor takes the sun’s altitude. The table at which they sat was in the room adjoining my stateroom, and I could hear Mr. Winsor say, “I cannot make my work agree with the dead reckoning, that is the position the ship should be in, according to the course sailed, and distance made by account.” After some time passed in trying to solve the difficulty, Mr. Winsor said to the steward, I wish you could tell Mrs. Burgess, “I don’t know where we are, and if she cares whether we all go to the bottom or not, I wish she would come and look over my work, and tell me what the trouble is.” I said to him, as he tapped on my door & told me of the trouble they were in, Please pass me the slate for me to examine the work. I did so, and found a mistake in figuring the result, which rectified, made the latitude & longitude to agree with the dead reckoning. Mr. Winsor had but one fault, as he frequently remarked, when urged to practise working out the latitude & longitude, “I never could reckon up a column of figures correctly when in school, and I cannot now, I get confused.” I often say to myself, what would have happened, had I not had many months’ experience, and felt capable of navigating the ship? Had confidence in my ability failed, where would the ship have gone? I could but recall, the words of the several ship Captains, who on the day of sailing form the Chincha Islands, tried to persuade my husband to sail for Callao, saying “The Challenger will never be heard from, for your first officer is incompetent to take a Captain’s place, and you should have another Captain.” When my husband replied “My wife can take my place they laughed, derisively, but it was all true, and how good and overruling providence was, to permit me to retain the confidence, and ability necessary, to meet an emergency.25

This letter also provides readers with her last account of William’s death: Can I forget that sad scene when on Dec. 11, 1856 at 11 P.M. with the Challenger’s officers about his bed and only the wide wide ocean in sight he sent kind parting messages to his parents & sisters in far away America, and resigned himself to God. All through his illness he bore severe pain uncomplaining & often remarking “he was reconciled to God’s will.”

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Soon after we sailed from the Chinchas, seeing that his disease was making much progress, he remarked in the language of the Holy Scripture, “I must set my house in order for I shall die and not live,” and he faithfully followed the injunction.26

Then she reiterated the promise they had made as youths—that they would never marry again. This message was inscribed on their wedding rings, and Rebecca took this promise very seriously. Rebecca explained why she kept that promise so faithfully for the next sixty years: His theory was, that a person should not on the death of a companion, ever remarry, and at his request we both made the promise “never to marry again” having it inscribed on our wedding rings. He would often say during his illness “Now you will not keep that promise, will you, Rebecca?” and I always replied “I would not dare break my word!” and now I look forward with pleasure to the time of our reunion, as I trust in a better world, when I shall say, William I have complied with your request, made when as a girl of eighteen I took the marriage vows.27

This letter and the postcards provide details about William and Rebecca’s last months together that are not present in her journals. It shows just how important Rebecca’s use of memories was to the crafting of her legend. Rebecca makes many claims in these letters. According to her own narrative, she faced the angry outbursts of captains who doubted her and resolutely set sail for Valparaiso, knowing that her husband was dying, according to the letter. She claimed that she also continued to pilot the ship after William’s death, despite the feelings of grief that almost incapacitated her, in order to save the lives of those aboard. Rebecca reflected on all these issues in the letter, and, in the postcards, she focused on her heroic navigation efforts. Rebecca left the postcards with relatives and donated the letter to the Sandwich Historical Society. Thus she made sure that her legacy as a maritime heroine would be maintained long after her death.28

Preserving the Legend Rebecca cultivated an image for the community, which she bolstered through her work for the church and for the children of the town. This would help her gain a foothold in the lexicon of town characters preserved for pos172

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terity. But just to ensure that she would never be forgotten, she also used legal means to safeguard her legacy. The will that she left reflects her concern with being remembered, and she donated money to various institutions that would preserve her memory. When Rebecca died of natural causes in 1917, she left very small amounts to her brother and sister ($100 each) and even smaller amounts to nieces and nephews. In all, she left only $1,000 to her relatives out of the more than $12,000 in her estate. Originally she left a total of $1,000 to the church, which in 2008 would be equivalent to more than $16,500. She asked that the money be set up in a trust, to be paid to the stewards of the Sagamore Methodist Episcopal Church to support preaching. Rebecca also designated all unknown funds to the church, so after the estate settled, the church received more than $7,000.29 With this donation, Rebecca made plain her faith, her respect for good preaching, and her desire to leave a lasting impact on the church community she loved. She also gave a significant amount of money—$1,350 in four separate trust accounts—to the Sagamore Cemetery Association. In 2008 this would amount to more than a $22,000 bequest. In one paragraph she noted that a trust should be established to take care of the Crowell family lot, which included her parents and her three siblings: “this I do as a token of love, to perpetuate the memory of my parents, Paul and Lydia Crowell; my brothers, Thomas P. and Nathan P. Crowell; and my sister Emma H. Crowell. . . . I wish their names and memory preserved for all time.”30 She also established a fund to replace William’s monument if the need arose—she wanted an “exact duplicate . . . same verses and all inscriptions, including my name.”31 Rebecca wanted to make sure that her tribute to William would remain unchanged forever. She also left money to repair and landscape the headstones not covered in other repair funds, particularly those around her family’s plots. She reasoned: “so that the Cemetery in the old part, may present a tidy appearance; as it has been a pleasure to me.” She also referred to her work at the cemetery: “I earnestly hope the Sagamore Cemetery Association will accept these Trust Funds, as I labored for several years, to obtain a permanent Fund for the care of lots; and aided largely in raising money to put the Cemetery in its present good condition.”32 Rebecca made certain that the work she did for the community continued after her death, and these bequests testified not only to the work she did but also to her memory. Rebecca also left a bequest to the Sandwich Historical Society. She gave the society $350, the equivalent of almost $7,000 in 2008. She also gave the society numerous valuable curios and artifacts from her travels, as well as a trunk containing her papers and journals. Essentially Rebecca acted as curaFrom Legacy to Legend

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tor for her own exhibit. She gave explicit instructions to the society to purchase a wooden cabinet: to hold such Books; and Curios as I may give to the Society. I wish my name, Hannah Rebecca Burgess inscribed on this Cabinet, in gilt letters; said Cabinet to have a lock on it; from the remaining amount, a sufficient sum shall be given to purchase a Glass Globe, to encase the Chinese Ivory Pagoda, which I give to be placed in the cabinet.33

She left the society William’s ear trumpet that he used aboard the ship, the painting of the Challenger with instructions to purchase a new frame for it, and, of course, the Bible. Rebecca also left a detailed list of the items she wanted to go to the Historical Society, with explanations of each item for the accessions list. For example, she gave this description of the Chinese shoe she donated: “of very small size—coming from a lady of rank, who had bound feet. She had lost her fortune, and parted with it, taking it from her foot, for a sum of money which the first-officer of the ship Challenger gave her, then presented to me . . . in Canton, China.”34 She gave ambrotypes, or small portraits of herself and William, to the museum, and as she explained, “Mrs. B. sat for hers at the age of twenty six and had his picture copied from one of his parents so that both are the same age in the pic.”35 Rebecca’s legacy lived on through the donation of these items to the Sandwich Historical Society. Until 2007 the cabinet Rebecca requested sat in a room in the museum, looking exactly the way she wanted it. It told the story of how she navigated the ship, how William died, and how she kept her promise never to marry again. It also used her words to describe the items in the cabinet, painting a picture of Rebecca’s exciting adventures around the world. Now the exhibit has been expanded into a dining-room venue, with a holographic image of Rebecca, played by curator Dorothy Schofield, describing some of the most important events in her life. In this way Rebecca’s history remains always in the eye of the public that visits the museum. Rebecca’s story also lives on in the journals that she donated to the museum. She did not restrict usage of the journals or letters in any way, ensuring that visitors and local historians would read and use these journals. In addition, Rebecca refused to allow a public auction of her undonated items, ordering instead that relatives retain these items. This allowed her collections to remain relatively intact, and it led to a second exhibition about her at the Jonathan Bourne Historical Center, featuring artifacts donated by Rebecca’s descendents. This exhibit, “Hannah Rebecca Burgess, Seafaring 174

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Heroine,” opened in 1999, and several of her possessions remained on display at the historic center in 2006. Rebecca’s close watch over her artifacts, even in death, ensured that her life would be remembered at least in museum settings, as her collections are displayed for the museum-going public.

Did She or Didn’t She? At this point many readers may wonder about the veracity of Rebecca’s tale. It is certainly fair to question exactly what happened aboard the Challenger in the last weeks of William’s life. There is no evidence I have found from 1856 or in subsequent years that corroborates any of Rebecca’s story. Rebecca’s own journals from that leg of the voyage are silent—and understandably so, as her time would have been taken up caring for William. And it is extremely interesting that none of the many published reports recounting the return of the Bible discuss the manner in which she “saved the ship.” A basic understanding of the nautical world would suggest that Rebecca’s highly detailed narratives about her saving of the ship were probably stretched beyond the point of truth. First of all, the shipping company most likely would not have retained Winsor as a captain if he were so incompetent that he could not take basic chronometer readings. That Winsor went on to successfully captain the Challenger for many more years belies his inabilities here, despite Rebecca’s assertions that he learned later about how to measure with the chronometer. Moreover, ships had sailed for hundreds of years without the benefit of chronometers, and they successfully made it to port. Rebecca may well have kept the chronometer time during this period, as she had for much of the voyage, and though it would have been helpful, it would not have been a matter of life and death.

The Community Responds In her journals, in newspaper stories she penned herself, and in the letters and postcards written at the end of her life, Rebecca crafted a character who was a genteel widow, an important and vital member to her community, and, ultimately, an important maritime heroine charged who succeeded in safely piloting an extreme clipper to safety, but what did the community think about her during her life? Was her effort to build and maintain a persona related to her gentility and her status as a captain’s widow in the community successful? First of all, it appears that Rebecca managed to secure a place of leadership in her little town. Evidence lies in the newspapers from Sandwich and From Legacy to Legend

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Bourne. In 1894 the Sandwich Observer listed Rebecca among the church stewards, a position in which she continued until her death in 1917, so the church must have thought enough about Rebecca to elect her to a prominent office within the church. Rebecca also served on the church music, flowers, and missions committee, even when she was a shut-in and no longer attended church regularly. By 1909 Rebecca also had become a church trustee, which was the highest lay office attainable in her church. She was one of very few female trustees on this board. She was also still a steward, and this, again, despite her continued absence from church owing to illness. The community at large saw Rebecca as an effective fund-raiser. She had raised money for the cemetery to purchase headstones for people with no living relatives. In 1910 Rebecca was chosen to be the solicitor, or fund-raiser, for the Sagamore Cemetery Association. She was reelected in 1912, again, long after she had become a shut-in. These elected offices reflect the fact that Rebecca’s community thought very highly of her, and that they recognized her contributions to church and community.36 Rebecca also succeeded in maintaining an identity based on her gentility. For example, the local newspapers constantly remarked on the state of Rebecca’s gardens. In the Victorian period, society defined gardening as a signifier of woman’s culture, as it was a safe, genteel activity that helped make the domestic space more pleasing and happy. In fact, literature of the time often referred to gardening as a sign of women’s religious and moral superiority, which made them particularly sensitive to nature, and, as such, ornamental plants, which served as daily reminders of God’s presence on earth in the beauty of flowers.37 It was no secret to the village that Rebecca loved flowers, and her gardens became the toast of the town. Numerous newspaper columns discussed Rebecca’s garden, and as one article noted, “From the earliest snow-drop to the latest chrysanthemum our highly esteemed friend Mrs. H. R. Burgess has plants in the place, although she is a shut-in.”38 These articles listed the kinds of flowers abundant in Rebecca’s yard, and often wrote of the flowers as the first signs of spring. The articles also noted the delight of children and other onlookers who would come to see what was blooming at Rebecca’s house. One description of Rebecca’s garden was probably particularly pleasing to her. After noting the two sparrows nesting in a bush and the whipporwhills that visited nightly, the reporter queried, “Is not this rightly named ‘Tranquil Place’?”39 In focusing on Rebecca’s garden as a center of community and a symbol of spring and fall, the newspapers placed Rebecca in a position of prominence within the community. 176

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Moreover, evidence suggests that she received both respect and understanding of her centrality to the village. We see this in the messages of concern for her health and well-being. Rebecca seemed to have her first serious bout of illness in 1886, which kept her inside for many weeks. The Sandwich Independent reported with relief that although she had been confined to her room she was definitely recuperating. In 1893 another bout of illness kept Rebecca away from church for five months, and the Bourne Pioneer reported her return to the church, as well as the improvements that the congregation had made to the church while she was absent. Even when illness caused Rebecca to remain permanently at home, her community continued to remember her. One 1896 article noted that the singing group, the “Gospel Wagon,” stopped by her home after a performance in the church, since she had not been able to attend services for several years.40 In 1908 Rebecca’s illness caused her to have to stay in her room upstairs, and the Sandwich Independent noted, “We are glad to see that Mrs. H. R. Burgess is fast recovering her strength and good spirits.” The paper also reported several weeks later: “We are glad to know that Mrs. H. R. Burgess is able to walk about her home, and sincerely hope that in the future she will entirely recover from her illness.”41 Rebecca may have been a shut-in during the last decades of her life, but she remained a vital part of the community. Although we have no journal entries from Rebecca that date beyond the 1870s,42 we can see that the community had its own ideas about Rebecca’s importance. As one article reported, “Mrs. H. R. Burgess, who, we regret to say, is still a ‘shut-in,’ was most affectionately and generously remembered by her many, many friends on Christmas day.”43 These remembrances meant something to Rebecca, too, because she kept Christmas cards and other postcards from friends and family between 1908 and 1917. These cards are now in the collection of the Bourne Historic Commission. Even when Rebecca could no longer go out and perform volunteer work for her community, she garnered respect and concern from friends and family, who read about her in the paper, visited her, and sent her cards. This suggests that Rebecca’s attempt to build herself an identity as a prominent and well-loved woman succeeded admirably.

Running with the Legend The community did not just see Rebecca as another genteel widow who dedicated her time and energy to church and children. No matter what you believe about Rebecca’s claim to have saved the ship, her narrative became an important part of the local lore in Sandwich. An exploration of local sources From Legacy to Legend

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suggests that she achieved her goal of being remembered as a symbol of the maritime heritage of the region, particularly in the way the community chose to remember her. Immediately upon her death, the Sandwich Independent noted in her obituary, “Mrs. Burgess assumed command of the vessel and brought it safely into port on the coast of South America, with a valuable cargo of guano. For this courageous act the owners of the ship liberally rewarded her.” 44 Though the obituary mentioned her charitable acts, the central focus was on those few weeks when she was twenty-two years old. That is exactly how Rebecca would have wanted it. In addition, when the children who visited remembered her, they also focused on Rebecca’s feat of bravery during those several weeks of hardship aboard the Challenger. The Bourne Enterprise published an article about Rebecca in 1984 that spoke of her maritime legacy. Alice Gibbs wrote: “The children loved to visit and listen to stories of her travels, always to be awed and saddened by the account of that last voyage in the bark Challenger.” Children remembered that she talked of William falling ill, and that “Hanna [sic] Rebecca found to her horror that [Winsor] had little knowledge of navigation.” Old-timers also remembered her talking of her promise to take William home.45 An undated clipping from the Bourne Historic Commission also described Rebecca’s exploits in the maritime world. Your Weekly Guide to Cape Cod published a story titled “Captain in His Coffin,” which described the story yet again. The article noted: “in charge of the [Challenger] was no one else but Mrs. H. Burgess, the former Hannah Crowell. . . . she herself was an expert navigator.” This article also described her efforts to bring William’s body home.46 Scholars also cited Rebecca’s story in their local and maritime histories. Henry Kittredge first “discovered” Rebecca’s story in 1935. He wrote that Henry Winsor’s inability to navigate necessitated Rebecca’s actions, and he mentioned the shipwrecked Bible in Shipmasters of Cape Cod. Edward Snow’s Women of the Sea quotes numerous passages from her journal, which other scholars also cite. Rebecca’s quotations from Snow’s work can be found in Haskell Springer’s “The Captain’s Wife at Sea” and Julia Bonham’s “Feminist and Victorian.” Rebecca’s observations of maritime life proved compelling for these scholars. Rebecca’s story receives significant attention in other maritime works as well. Linda Grant Depauw’s Seafaring Women and Daniel Baird’s Women at Sea in the Age of Sail both tell the harrowing story of Rebecca’s actions aboard the Challenger. Jim Coogan also mentions Rebecca’s story in his work on Cape Cod seafaring women, titled Sail Away Ladies. And Martha Hassell, former curator of the Sandwich Glass Museum and 178

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Historical Society, wrote The Challenge of Hannah Rebecca. Drawing mainly from Rebecca’s maritime journals, Hassell portrayed Rebecca as a seafaring heroine who led a quiet life after William’s death. These historians and scholars relied on Rebecca’s journals for evidence. While these works range from local Cape Cod histories to scholarly analyses of class and gender conventions in nineteenth-century American life, they all focus on the part of the story that Rebecca wanted to be remembered: her life at sea, her heroism, and her love for her husband.47 From 1935 to 2003 ten scholarly works have cited Rebecca’s story, suggesting that Rebecca’s attempt to maintain her seafaring legacy was successful. Sometimes these stories go beyond the realm of fact and into the legend that emerged surrounding Rebecca’s life. This moves Rebecca’s story into the realm of tall tales, mythologizing her life in a way that romanticized it. In her 1946 work, Blue Water Men and Other Cape Codders, Katherine Crosby wrote: “At Valparaiso, Captain Burgess was taken ill and died. His valiant girlwidow took command of the ship and brought her back to her home port— Sagamore Harbor—and dropped anchor there for the last time. A painting of their bark Speedwell hangs on the wall next to her collection.”48 If Rebecca had tried to sail the Challenger into Sandwich’s harbor, she would have grounded it and probably badly damaged the ship. The water was far too shallow for such a feat. And the Speedwell was the name of the ill-fated Pilgrim vessel that turned back to England instead of arriving in the colony. In Sandwich: A Cape Cod Town R. A. Lovell wrote of the promise inscribed in Rebecca’s wedding ring and reported an oft-repeated story in the community; that she received fifty-seven marriage proposals and never accepted a one. Alice Gibbs also repeated this story in her article about Rebecca: “Though it is said she had many proposals of marriage, she kept true to the vow inscribed in her wedding ring and never married again.”49 Though this may be true, there is no evidence, either from her journals or anywhere else, that she received any other marriage proposals at all.50 There is evidence, however, to suggest that she told people about the promise she made never to marry again, which would probably have fended off many potential suitors. More recently, in 2004, the Cape Cod Times included Rebecca’s story in a feature on haunted homes in Cape Cod. The article described the Captain Burgess house in Brewster, and noted: “This was the home of Capt. William Burgess, who died of an illness aboard the clipper ship Challenger, . . .and his widow, Hannah Rebecca, who lived another 63 years. She remained a widow despite more than 50 proposals of marriage. The current owner hears footsteps and notices artwork is often rearranged.”51 William may have lived From Legacy to Legend

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in that house as a child, and Rebecca may have visited Brewster, but she never lived anywhere but in her parents’ and her in-laws’ homes in Boston and Sandwich. These inaccurate retellings of Rebecca’s story actually suggest how important her story has become in the fabric of Cape Cod legend. These exaggerated claims further the romantic nature of the story, and heighten the drama of what Rebecca had already constructed as an extraordinary event. Why did Rebecca’s community wholeheartedly embrace the narrative she crafted? What was so important about this story that no one has yet questioned Rebecca’s version of events? I believe that the identity Rebecca so carefully constructed and maintained stood as an important symbol for Rebecca’s village, namely, its maritime/agricultural heritage. As a symbol, she commemorated an important part of what New Englanders were trying to embrace during those changing times. Rebecca’s story became a symbol of continuity, a throwback to the village’s maritime heritage that was part of West Sandwich’s past, but not its future. West Sandwich experienced great economic, social, and political change in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and by the time of Rebecca’s death, the little village would have been almost unrecognizable to anyone who had traveled there during the 1850s and 1860s. And though Rebecca’s family and village had benefited from the changes that occurred before the Civil War, the late-nineteenth-century changes brought such economic upheaval to the area that her family did not necessarily see the same positive outcome from the new landscape. West Sandwich, in the second half of the nineteenth century, moved from a village dominated by farmers and mariners to one changed fundamentally by industrialization and the building of the Cape Cod canal.52 The dislocation of the maritime trade greatly affected the economic base of West Sandwich (see Table 2 in the appendix). In 1860 census reports listed a total of 213 sailors and captains living in the town of Sandwich out of a population of 4,479. West Sandwich boasted 25 sailors and captains in their village of 311. By 1870 the population of sailors in the town had dropped. In a population of 3,902 the number of mariners fell to 158. The overwhelming majority of these sailors lived in Pocasset, Cotuit, and Monument, which bordered Buzzard’s Bay on the south side of the town. West Sandwich’s population of 278 reported only 9 mariners by 1870. The 1880 census showed a further decline in the trade that had once dominated the town. Out of 3,543 residents in Sandwich, only 65 were mariners. West Sandwich reported a population of 234, and only 5 claimed to be mariners. This decline continued through the twentieth century. The villagers of West Sandwich renamed the area Sagamore and 180

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incorporated with the new town of Bourne in 1884, so the figures for this little village merged into those of the larger town. But in 1900 the town of Bourne boasted 29 “boatmen” and 25 fishermen out of 1,657 residents. The term “boatman” is suggestive—it is generally used to describe someone who takes a small boat out for day trips, not a mariner who travels the sea. The number of boatmen in Bourne actually declined again in 1910, to 18 out of a total population of 2,474. Most of these boatmen appeared clustered in neighborhoods far from Rebecca’s, which suggests that these boatmen, the last vestiges of maritime heritage in the area, continued to cluster around Buzzard’s Bay, rather than on Cape Cod Bay, which bordered the town center of Sandwich.53 Many of the traditional mariners may have turned to boating or fishing once the trans-global shipping industry collapsed, and others probably took nonrelated jobs. Whatever the reason, Rebecca’s village, and indeed, the entire region, was losing its maritime identity over the course of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. As the town center of Sandwich watched the death throes of its once dominant industry in the late nineteenth century, the villages surrounding Sandwich saw their own agriculture and maritime base erode in the face of a new industrial order. Industrial changes swept through the areas surrounding Sandwich and fundamentally changed the face of what would become the town of Bourne. Before the 1860s very few immigrants to the area lived outside of Sandwich’s town center. As late as 1880 the village of West Sandwich registered only one family from Ireland and one Irish livein nurse. After starting up a small railcar manufactory in the mid-nineteenth century, the Keith family continued to grow its business. The Keith Car Manufacturing Company became a dominant industry in the region by the turn of the century. The factory was located right in Rebecca’s village of West Sandwich, so this change engulfed her small community. In 1876 the Seaside Press reported that “the whistle of the car factory, with the buzz of saws and planer, is a welcome sound in our midst.” At that time the factory busied itself making fifty railroad flats for transport to Nova Scotia.54 By 1879 the Keith factory had secured a 125-car order and employed 40 men. The Keith and Sons car company continued to manufacture cars, and it used iron from local foundries for its car bases. By 1906 the industry had employed more than 600 people. It hit its peak in 1908, when it had over 200 people on the payroll of $25,000 and produced 20 cars per day.55 Rebecca’s world had moved from a predominantly rural area peopled with farmers and seamen to an industrialized area in which she could see the car works from her front yard. From Legacy to Legend

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The growth of the car manufacturing industry and the demise of the glass industry led to the split of Sandwich in 1884. In 1883 residents in many of the villages west of Sandwich petitioned to leave. As many as 329 voters from villages that included Pocasset, Monument, North Sandwich, and West Sandwich wanted to disaffiliate from Sandwich and incorporate into a new town.56 Although we do not know Rebecca’s thoughts on this political episode, the split of the town fundamentally changed the geographical and political borders of her world. It represented just one more upheaval in the social, political, and economic fabric of the area in the late nineteenth century. The incorporation of Bourne was not the only event that fundamentally changed the geography of the area. The Cape Cod Canal project negatively affected the town of Bourne and the village of Sagamore.57 The canal did not open until 1914, but the various construction projects would have a negative impact on Rebecca’s community. Although the canal was a boon to ship navigators, it was neither welcomed nor wanted by the residents of Sagamore. The Sandwich Observer noted a petition signed by seventy-five Sagamore property owners in 1886. They tried to alter the canal route, for fear of damage to their property. One year later, the paper reported that residents met to oppose the canal unless they could receive a guarantee of compensation for property damage. Rumors of the canal project going forward hurt real estate sales in the area, and a reporter from the Bourne Pioneer rejoiced when the Massachusetts state legislature killed a new version of the canal project in 1897. As he noted, “This is as it should be. Those wildcat speculating schemes have wrought lots of damage to real estate owners and Bourne and Sandwich, and the end has come none too soon.” One year later, as other schemes to dig through the town continued, a Sagamore town reporter opined, “No other town in this state has heretofore been the object of so much inane persecution as this one.”58 That same year the Bourne Pioneer registered relief that the canal project had not yet come to fruition: “If that Cape Cod Canal had been built, Cape Cod would now be an island! And Railroad communication with the main would be a long way off! What is now simply a canal ‘location’ would be a raging, uncrossable sea! And Buzzard’s Bay village would be blotted out of existence! Nothing visionary about this.”59 Despite protests from the residents most negatively affected by the possibilities of the canal project, August Belmont completed construction on the canal in 1914, just three years before Rebecca’s death. Ultimately the canal project divided the town of Bourne in two, almost destroying the village of North Sandwich, now renamed Bourndale. Its track separated one side of Sagamore from the other, and separated the elderly Rebecca from the church 182

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that she loved. The canal project created a new physical landscape that fundamentally altered the face of the town, and made it more difficult for the residents of Sagamore to come together as a community. The community itself also changed dramatically over the turn of the century. The canal project, as well as Keith’s car works, brought in new immigrants to the area. Bourne went from a very homogeneous community of Anglo Protestants to a veritable melting pot of various cultures, religions, and languages.60 Many of these newcomers were Italian immigrants and were not particularly welcome in the neighborhood. One newspaper article mentioned that an inebriated Italian had made an incursion past the “Italian quarter” and had to be carried home.61 This clearly indicates that the neighborhoods were segregated. Although none of these immigrants lived in Rebecca’s neighborhood, they were concentrated in areas down the street from her home. Rebecca never wrote of these newcomers—but negative comments about Catholics and ethnic minorities in earlier journal entries suggest that she may well have viewed these changes with a jaundiced eye. Rebecca retreated to her garden and her home as the world around her became unrecognizable. By the second decade of the twentieth century she would have looked out from her garden and seen a veritable thoroughfare that had been her little main street, with immigrants coming from their part of town to the Keith Car Works. She might have smelled the smoke and residue from melting metals at the factory. And she could almost see the canal, which literally tore apart her little community, separating her from her church by a bridge. These changes may not have been the reason Rebecca became a shut-in, but they certainly made her stand out as a reminder of yesteryears. She must have been a compelling symbol of continuity in a community wracked by change. Rebecca may well have been remembered and her image perpetuated for another reason. Around the turn of the century New Englanders began promoting tourism as a way to boost the failing industrial economy. And one of the ways in which tourism boosters drew people to the region was through the perpetuation of “old-time New England,” which focused on a mythology that New England was still “rural, preindustrial, and ethnically ‘pure.’”62 This coincided with a colonial revival of sorts, which focused on renovating old village greens, reclaiming old Puritan ancestries, and celebrating the concept of the “little white village,” a symbol of the rural community.63 Thus it is not surprising that Rebecca became an icon just as summer residents “discovered” her village. The Sandwich Observer reported the construction of a new hotel and summer cottages on Monument Beach in 1874, and From Legacy to Legend

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this spate of construction continued through the twentieth century. In fact, the 1910 census listed many carpenters and painters living in the town, and the majority of these men worked on houses. Entertainment venues sprang up to entice visitors and permanent residents alike. Sagamore’s Liberty Hall provided a center for entertainment, educational events, and roller skating. In 1908 a development company bought land in Sagamore to start a resort for wealthy summer vacationers. By 1915 Sagamore itself had hotels, golf clubs, and a bowling alley.64 Rebecca was the ideal icon for this village. She lived in a historic white house across from the cemetery that held the names of important village forebears, including many who had worked on the sea. She was distantly related to the Burgess family, who had settled Sandwich in 1634. And she came from a family known for its ties to agriculture and the sea. Her version of events in 1856 made for a wonderful story and an excellent symbol of “oldtime New England,” both for the town of Sandwich, to which she donated her journals, and for the village of Sagamore.

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Conclusion

Rebecca wanted to be remembered in her community as a proper Victorian wife, a grieving and devoted widow, and a maritime heroine who failed to save her husband but who saved the lives of more than thirty crewmen from certain peril as she navigated the Challenger to Valparaiso in 1856. She succeeded in making both Sandwich and Bourne embrace her story as part of their collective town histories. She also succeeded in getting the academic community to portray her as an important maritime figure, and as a heroine who fought to save her husband and the ship the Challenger. She helped to create these memories by defining herself as the central actor in the maritime drama that took place in 1856. She also carefully constructed a persona as the grieving Victorian captain’s widow who remained faithful to her husband as she navigated his ship and throughout the rest of her life. Rebecca’s story is remarkable for many reasons. First, the actual events of her life—from her adventures aboard the Whirlwind and the Challenger to the return of her Bible in 1864, suggest that her experiences were perfectly matched to the community’s need to remember its maritime past. Second, her lived experience in Sandwich and Bourne show the ways in which industrialization, immigration, and political change fundamentally altered her community, making her maritime legacy even more appealing in the face of dramatic nineteenth-century change. That Rebecca knowingly created her own persona through her journals and public appearances indicates that individuals have the ability to construct their own legacies, manipulating their own public personas to create the identity that they want the public to remember. Rebecca’s presentation and preservation of her own legacy begs an important question, however: Is the Rebecca we remember today authentic? Indeed, the authenticity of self-presentation and memory is always the overriding question in autobiography and journal keeping. Rebecca’s prose reveals an awareness of her audience and a self-conscious, deliberate manipulation of her image. Her story suggests the importance of the interplay between con|

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temporary depictions of past events, the historical memory of events, and how legends are born. Rebecca’s life suggests the importance of individuals in the creation and maintenance of their own identities and lived experiences. Because we have no extant records describing Rebecca except for newspaper society pages, people tend to take her narratives at face value. But that Rebecca never mentioned her financial dealings in her journals, nor donated her financial accounts to the historical society, points to the careful deliberation she took in casting herself in her journals. In fact, that we have no evidence besides Rebecca’s later recollections about her having “saved the ship,” but we do have evidence to the contrary that a chronometer is not essential for navigation, should make us wonder about the veracity of her famous tale. Moreover, Rebecca did not address several extremely personal family issues in her journals, or else she cut out those pages that dealt with sensitive subjects. She never mentions why no children resulted from her relationship with William. She also never questions family issues like her sister moving to California to follow a husband who had failed at several business ventures before finally succeeding after the move to Fresno. Through the journals, we see a woman who loved adventure on the sea, who retained and relied on her faith in God through all her trials, and who remained devoted to her dead husband for more than sixty years after his death aboard the Challenger. Through her actions and writings, we see the perfect model of a Victorian sea captain’s wife. By donating her journals to the historical society, Rebecca understood that future scholars would have access to them. Today all her journals are public. Rebecca took great care to cut certain pages out of her journals, and that, too, suggests that these journals were meant to be read by a greater public. I do not believe, however, that Rebecca’s carefully crafted identity detracts from the overall remarkable situation of her life and her attempts to create historical legacy. In fact, it reveals her determination to be remembered as a genteel sea captain’s wife, the link to a time long gone in Sandwich and Bourne by the twentieth century. Rebecca was not unlike thousands of Victorian middle-class women. Like many captain’s wives, she followed her husband to sea. Like many educated women, she kept prodigious journals that narrated her everyday life and provided introspective commentary on her spiritual and moral state. And like many widows, Rebecca managed her own finances and was a great success at building a small fortune. But what makes Rebecca special is not whether she saved a ship in peril; it is that she crafted her own public narrative in a way that ensured her legacy after her death. 186

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Rebecca was also like many middle-class white women of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century who were engaged in the historical process of commemoration. This era marked the entry of women into all sorts of projects centered on maintaining communal memories and heritages, mostly to reclaim a past they considered fast receding in the face of modernization. In the South, the United Daughters of the Confederacy were busily constructing monuments to its fallen soldiers and great generals of the Civil War and calling on communities not to forget the sacrifices of southern women who lost men to the cause.1 In the North women carefully preserved their colonial heritage and were active on New England preservation boards, often as a way to address what they perceived as problems with de-industrialization and mass immigration to their communities.2 Women were also central in preserving national narratives of individual American heroes. For example, Elizabeth Armstrong Custer spent her widowhood carefully creating an image of her husband, George Armstrong Custer, that would stand for decades as the generally accepted persona of the man. And the Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association went about restoring and preserving George Washington’s home on the Potomac for the public as a reification of his heroic identity.3 For these women, the process of commemoration reflected the values that were important to them, enhancing their own identities. But Rebecca’s process of commemoration departed from the works of these other middle-class white women because she focused on two interrelated themes—her husband’s death and her own life. Hers was an individualistic mind-set not generally seen in commemoration efforts of the time. Essentially Rebecca was writing her own history as she wrote herself into the collective memory of her local community. She became, in Pierre Nora’s words, “[her] own historian,” as she focused, in her journals and in the community, on remembering those four years of her life on the sea with her husband.4 This, too, is remarkable, given the shift in the formal historical profession at the turn of the twentieth century. Although women in the Victorian age took the lead in historic writing and preservation because they were expected to be the teachers of American history, the increasing professionalization of the field in the 1870s and 1880s made “scientific history” a masculine pursuit. Male academics in universities downplayed women historians’ contributions as “antiquarian,” because women writers tended to focus on social and family relations, which fell outside the scope of the “new” scientific history that used “official” sources like government and court records and was more “objective” and removed from any historian’s personal frame of reference. The histories of women produced by Victorian authors in the Conclusion

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1880s were eclipsed by new national histories, created mostly by male historians trained in universities.5 Against this backdrop Rebecca insisted that her story was important, because it provided a vital link to her community’s past. She made sure that her story would continue beyond her death by donating money to the cemetery to maintain her own grave as well as the graves of her husband and family, and by donating money, artifacts, and journals to the historical society to create an exhibit about her life and maintain an archive that historians continue to use today. Rebecca worked hard to create a legacy that linked her maritime experiences with her Victorian persona. In many ways she was like the clipper ships that sailed the ocean for a brief time in the 1840s and 1850s. As maritime historian Samuel Eliot Morison described them: “Never, in these United States, has the brain of man conceived, or the hand of man fashioned, so perfect a thing as the clipper ship. . . . but they were monuments carved from snow. For a brief moment of time they flashed their splendor around the world, then disappeared with the sudden completeness of the wild pigeon.”6 Rebecca’s time on board the clipper ships was brief, but she created a legacy from those experiences. Just as the clipper ship symbolized the height of the American maritime industry, Rebecca symbolized the legacy of the sea for her own community. Her Victorian ideologies and focus on the past may have seemed as obsolete as the clippers by the late 1800s, but they remained the vehicle through which she constructed her own legend as the heroic captain’s wife, whose devotion led her to heroism under extreme conditions. She defined herself as the captain’s wife, and her legend lives on today as one of many extraordinary Cape Cod stories.

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Appendix

Ta b l e 1 . Major Occupations in Sandwich, 1820–1850 Occupation Agriculture Commerce Maritime Manufacturing

Data in Raw Numbers 1820 1840 326 380 165* 20 No specific data 275 128 256

Occupation Agriculture Commerce Maritime Manufacturing

Data in Percentages 1820 13% 6% No specific data 5%

1840 10% .05% 7% 7%

1850 191 65** 206 321 1850 4% .014% 4% 7%

*This figure probably includes mariners. **This figure represents merchants in 1850. Note: The 1830 census does not list occupations. These three occupational categories were the largest in Sandwich, which reflects its diversity. Other smaller occupational categories included shoemaker, boatmaker, carpenter, wheelwright/cooper, blacksmith, and tailor. Source: Information from U.S. Census Reports, 1820–1850; see “Works Cited” for complete citations.

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Ta b l e 2 . Mariners Living in Sandwich/Bourne, 1860–1910 Number of Mariners 213 158 65 54 20

Year 1860 1870 1880 1900* 1910

Year 1860 1870 1880

Population 4,479 3,902 3,543 1,657 2,474

Percentage of Mariners 4.7% 4.0% 1.8% 3% .08%

Mariners Living in West Sandwich, 1860-1880 Number of Percentage of Mariners Mariners Population 25 311 8% 9 278 3% 5 234 2%

* The statistics from 1900 and 1910 are from the town of Bourne. Source: Figures from U.S. Census Reports, 1860–1910; see “Works Cited” for full citations.

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august 22, 1852 On arriving in Boston, William wanted to wear a white satin vest, his wedding vest. I tried to persuade him otherwise but all to no effect. He wore it and came home at night a complete laughing matter. In company with Captain F. Lincoln, he took his dinner at a Saloon, where were rather green waiters and while William was laughing at their ludicrous appearance with a cup of coffee in his hand, way went the coffee, onto his white vest. What a pretty sight! Did we not laugh at him. But I felt sorry, no mistake. It was too bad, such a handsome white vest entirely spoiled. Well the next thing is to clean it. Mother proposed to send it to the New England Dye House, which we did. In a week it came back, but looking no better. Back we went to have it colored Black! Jet black was the color. It looked now so bad W. would not wear it. So he sold it to Father B. and when his store was broken open, this once white, but now black satin vest, was stolen. This is the end of a Wedding vest.1

1 march 1854 I like it better every day, being on the Sea. It does not seem possible that I could be so far from home, and I have not been homesick even once. I have a first rate companion, Miss Mary Ann Singleton and we get along finely together. We have not quarreled even once. . . . We call her Jane. It seems to be a familiar name, and I tell her she had better adopt it altogether. . . . I love to sit in the gang way of the Ship and watch her motion through the water, but the greatest difficulty is that I am generally in the way. I do not like a calm, for it makes the Capt so cross, if for no other reason. You can quickly perceive the influence it has upon him. Everything acts contrary and wo! to the person who crosses him then. Well it is taxing a Ship Masters patience a great deal, to encounter head winds and calms. I dare not say what when the winds are adverse, and when the wind is fair. I should think he would fret lest it die away.

9 march 1854 Is it possible that we have been so long at sea? Why the days go past so quickly I can with difficulty keep their order. Am I not happy? is a question that often arises in my mind, and I can truly say I am. I have everything that heart can wish, and what is of more value than all other blessings. I enjoy my Husband’s society. Earth would be naught but dreariness bereft of his companionship. O it is hard to be separated from those we love, and I feel that with my Husband I could be happy in any situation.2

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10 march 1854 William made a mistake in the date of this day as yesterday was the 10th but it don’t make much difference. The days seem a great deal alike to me, and I think I am getting very lazy. Today we had all studding sail set, and the Whirlwind looked finely to me. I have not learned the names of the ropes yet, but can distinguish the sails very well. Let me say, I do not learn very fast in Navigation, I am going to write for my own amusement the names of the Spars in the Whirlwind, and as it is original if it is poorly worded, the reason must be from want of experience.

19 march 1854 At three P.M. Jane and myself went Forward to see the Elephant and enjoyed it much. I delight to go there and look over the Bow, and watch the waves as they dash against the ship, and it was very pleasant today, for the wind was fair, and the Ship glided along, with nothing to oppose its motion. There is quite a heavy sea on, but it is in our favor, as it were propelling us on, rather than impeding our progress. I moved about rather incautiously while in this part of the ship, I suppose, at least I was not permitted to remain there long. All of a sudden William appearred beside me and requested me to go Aft, as he did not want to stop the ship or send out a boat. I reluctantly left my seat beside the Anchor and obeyed his injunctions, all the while wondering why it was I wanted to go where I could not.

rebecca’s entry At 9 A.M. William went to work on his mat which he commenced a few weeks since. He is making it for Mother Crowell, and I think when it is finished it will be very handsome. It takes up his time admirably well, during a calm, or in rough weather. . . . I think it a good idea to have such a thing under contemplation, especially for him considering his temperament &c. for it takes up his mind and diverts his thoughts from the wind. The wind for the past twenty four hours has not been favorable, to the Ship’s making much headway, and nothing irritates a Captain more than adverse winds. I begin to think of California, and I hope in the providence of God we may arrive there in safety. Cape Horn is yet to be navigated ere we reach that place. May we have prosperous gales, and go around this “bugby place” in a hurry. Well it is really surprising how time passes away on board of the Whirlwind. I feel perfectly 192

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at home and enjoy myself first-rate. O I have such a good and kind husband, and every thing goes along so smoothly. Who would not be happy under such circumstances?3

5 april 185 4 O! I dont like Cape Horn at all, if it is like this, “Ease her when she pitches” is the command to the man at the wheel. We go along for about five minutes very well, then it is pitch! pitch! and away flies everything moveable. Sometimes at the table engaged in some story, all of a sidden, your Soup is running on your clothes, or some hot tea upset. Well it is not so bad as it might be yet Thanks to a kind providence no accident has befallen us yet. We have carried away no Spars. Split no sails except a Storm Stray Sail on this fearful Sunday night. I should liked to have been on deck, then, although I must have been lashed to the rigging. It is very easy to say afterwards what we should like, but I think a few minutes would have completely satisfied me, in witnessing a Storm at Sea. Jane was very much frightened, and I do not think we shall ever forget, the scenes we passed through off Cape Horn. I hope we shall not have many more such days as the present, but we have just commenced to realize the pleasure of circumnavigating this Bugby place. Let us hope on, hope ever, and put the bright ride out.

18 april 1854 remarks Tuesday 18th commences and continues throughout the day with moderate breezes from the S. & Eastward and thick hazy weather: All drawing sail set steering per Compass N.W. by W. variation of the Compass 2 points Easterly Distance sailed per estimate 112 miles No observation this day Latitude and Longitude per account 50”24’ S. Longitude 81”14’ W. Barometer 205/100 Thermometer 52 in the cabin 72 days at see less 3 hours Oh it is a shame Rebecca says it is me that dirtys this precious book your most obedient servant in haste william h. burgess

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23 april 1854 This Sabbath has been far from a pleasant day to me, and I doubt if any one in the cabin has enjoyed it much. In the first place, we seem to be so unfortunate as to meet with head winds the most of the time, and now it has been four days, since we have been able to steer our course. A week ago today we had a good breeze, and fair at that with some prospect of getting along, but how quick is the scene changed. Now we have quite the contrary anticipations, but I trust to have a good passage yet. It has been raining very fast today and the water is very acceptable. We commenced to use water from the tank yesterday and were put on an allowance of 3 quarts of water to a person. But this water will help us much. I think it must be very bad to have a short allowance of water at sea, and I hope we may not be under the necessity of reducing our present allowance. I am in the enjoyment of good health, and fine spirits. All on board of the Whirlwind appear to be enjoying themselves. . . .Well I should like to see our relatives at home. I have been writing a letter to Sister Lydia Abby today, and it is a pleasure to convey our thoughts to our absent friends through the medium of the pen. I love to write, especially to my friends, but I find it difficult to find time to write in my journal, as it should be. Sometimes I am in the background, but I hope all will end well, and my journal get written.

18 may 1854 O it is delightful weather, and I enjoy it very much. It is not so warm as it was in the same Latitude on the Atlantic side, this is owing I suppose to the wind, being stronger. It is certainly more pleasant than at any previous time during our passage. The Evenings are splendid and I avail myself of the privilege of sitting on the house, and enjoying the healthful breezes. My Journal in consequence has been sadly neglected and I find I am much in the background. “A stern chase is a long chase” the sailors say and I find it true but I am resolved to keep on and write what I can. We are now I trust drawing to the close of our voyage, and when I think of it it seems impossible that we have been out so long. Without any exception I have taken solid comfort, and never shall I in this life be more free from care or enjoy myself better. I have learnt to work Chronometer time, and think the remainder of our passage I shall work up my own Latitude & Longitude. I like to know about anything that concerns a Ship.

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20 may 1854 I have nothing new in my journal to write today. I wish we might see a good ten knot breeze once more. We have not taken in Royals since we took the S.E. trades, and I think the Ship has not sailed over eight Knots in an hour. I don’t see how she ever crept along so far with the winds we have had I never knew the trials a Shipmaster must encounter untill I came to sea, but I don’t think I shall ever blame the Captain after this knowing that without winds no ship can sail. William says he never had such luck before. We have always the wind very strong when ahead, and very light during the trades. . . . I have given up all expectations of making a quick passage to California, yet I hope we may not be the last ones’ there. Man may boast, of his power but he is incapable of causing the wind to change, or altering anything. How wise is it then to submit our all into the hands of God, who alone ruleth the winds and waves, and leads us in the way we know not of.

undonated log of the whirlwind, 2 august 1854 It has been just a week since I have taken my pen to write a line and it seems about a month since I wrote the preceding page. It is by no means a pleasure to me to write when winds are so unfavorable, but it seems a good pastime to me. We are now in Latitude 30’ South: bound to Callao which is in 12’ South, and steering per Compass, South. It seems impossible to get to the Eastward. It really seems like Cape Horn weather. . . . It is so cold I do not go on deck, now, and it really seems lonely. I do not feel homesick though by any means. Not for all the enjoyments of home, would I forego the pleasure of my Husband’s society. What tie is their like the Sacred tie that binds a woman to her Husband? Nothing in this world can compare with her affection. I feel that I could go anywhere if only possessing my Husband’s society, and it is my aim to do all that lies in my power to please him. What is there in this life worth living for? If it were not for my beloved Companion I would not desire to live. We meet with trials in every sphere of life, but praised be the name of the Lord, he giveth us Grace to bear up under all our troubles if we seek his faith.4

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from the challenger journal sunday june 17 We have been quite fortunate the past week, and are some ahead of the last voyage. Last Sunday it was a calm. . . . I find it very difficult writing today from the motion of the Ship, as I can scarcely preserve my equilibrium. I think I must try to be a little more punctual in writing or my journal will not be filled. Nothing of interest has occurred since we left Boston. I like the Challenger very much. She is a much better Sailor than the Whirlwind, and 400 Tons larger. My writing looks so bad I will not write any more today, hoping God in his mercy will grant us health, and quick passage.

saturday july 1st 28 days at sea This has been a very pleasant day indeed, and I have often thought how delightful it must be at home. Yes, home with all its fond memories, rushes to my mind many times. What day better than the Sabbath to think of those we love and have left behind? It is pleasant to sit on deck, and gaze on old ocean’s foam crested waves, and think of the “Loved ones at home.” To renew each familiar face, and mingle with the cherished and loved, in the devotions of God’s holy day. But I would not convey the impression that my present home is not a happy one. Give me the presence and companionship of my husband, and I can be happy in any situation. I look upon old ocean, as my home for a short season. Not do I prefer a home on the sea. To the beautiful land, for choice, but it is my husband’s avocation, and to be with him, what enjoyment I would not forego. It is now 6 o’clock, Sunday afternoon, and as I lift my eyes from my book I see that it is sunset. The sun rises and sets at about six o’clock making the days and nights of equal length. We do seem to have very hard luck thus far. Braced sharp on the wind all of the time and then cannot lay our course, but God’s will be done. May we submit to it without a murmer, for he doeth right.

july 29 Time in its hasty strides has brought us to see the commencement of another week, and I feel to praise God that this pleasant Sabbath day finds all on board the good Ship Challenger in the enjoyment of health, although deprived of the blessings and luxuries of life, which those at home are enjoying at this pleasant season of the year. Since I last penned a few lines in my journal, nothing of interest has occurred among our little company, but we have had many changes of wind. In fact it seems a continual series of head winds and calms. . . . O it is 196

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too bad to have such hard luck, indeed it is, We may well expect a long passage, and a rough time circumnavigating Cape Horn this time. There is every indication of unpleasant weather, and head winds thus far. O how dear to the mind is the memory of home at this time, while meditating on the voyage before me. I have been impressed within a few days in a forcible manner of the shortness of this life. When I review the past three years of my wedded life, it seems like a dream. Truly time with us all will soon be over, and how does my account stand at the bar of God: Ah! I tremble. Yes, this thought makes me fear, for I do not live as God commands. I am a poor ungrateful wretch, dependant on the bounty of God, professing to live his glory, and numbered with his people. O I would give anything tonight to be permitted to meet with Christian people, and give vent to the pent up feelings of my heart. Here I am surrounded by people who do not know God and not one to direct, guide, or assist me in the ways of Holiness. But God will have pity and forgive the erring one if repentant and trusting, Be this my prayer. Lord help me to be thine, wholly thine, forever.

23 september 1855 112 Days at sea, and no farther along than this. But can we help it? No: It is for the best of course, that we have made no greater progress, and it teaches us to be patient. . . . William is so much better than when in the Whirlwind. I cannot be too thankful. He seems to control his feelings perfectly, and he does not use profane language at all. I am so much happier to see him govern that naturally hasty disposition. May he ever retain this strong will, to resist temptation. O how he must suffer in his mind, while thinking of the long passage we are making. May he receive strength from above. . . . I feel weaker every day. If I had listened to the kind admonitions of my friends and remained at home this voyage how much better it would have been. My punishment is just, and I have the proper reward of my willfulness. May I in the future be more consistent, and less hasty in my conduct. A few more days at the longest will be my sojourn on earth, and how little do I think of preparing for my exit from this vain world.

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27 september 1855 We are now in the longitude to San Francisco, and are steering West. Is it not too bad? I do pity William so, for he will have it all thrown on his shoulders, and I am sure he cannot help it. The wind continues to the Westward of North, and we cannot get to the Northward at all. William bears it nobly and is entirely different from what he was the last voyage on the Whirlwind, when he used to give vent to his feelings rather strong sometimes. I can hardly realize it when I remember his quick passionate disposition. But I thank God that it is so and trust he may always be so. My health is much improved so that I entertain strong hopes of being able to perform the voyage with my Husband. We do not know where the Challenger will have to go from San Francisco but hope to some healthy place. O I do pray, that I may regain my health. I love to go to sea so much. I believe I could be contented any where if permitted to share my beloved William’s society.

20 january 1856 I can hardly realize that we have visited the Celestial Empire, so short does the time seem, since we were in San Francisco, but it is ever thus time is progressing, and waits for no man. I must acknowledge I did not enjoy our short stay in China, as I anticipated. But I suppose I had formed too exalted opinions of the place and people. In one thing was I sadly disappointed, and that was in finding no hotel either in Hong Kong or Canton where a lady could stop. While in the former place I enjoyed myself very much. I passed one night and Two Days at the house of Mr. Sturgis and in his absence to Canton was entertained at by Mr. Foster, Agent for the firm of Russell and Co. I went to Canton twice, but saw nothing to attract save the Chinese Curios. I was much pleased with some new words I learnt. . . . I should not like to stop long in China, they are too ignorant to suit me.

22 june 1856 I wish, O I wish William and myself were in Boston. A voyage around Cape Horn is not very pleasing to either of us, but what cannot be helped must be endured and I do not believe in fretting, so I am going to make the best of it, and enjoy the voyage. William is not well at all. He has been sick during our stay in London, and is now recovering though very slowly. It really seemed too bad that he should be confined by sickness in port, when we are at sea so much, I trust he may soon recover his former good health. At present he is suffering from the effects of Mercury, administered in London for the liver complaint.5 198

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west sandwich, may 7th a. d. 1857 Friday May 1st I received a Telegraph message from Father Burgess saying that the Ship [carrying William’s body] was in Boston, and they should come to Sandwich in the morning train. The night previous I had a very singular dream. I saw William distinctly. Went to him, kissed him, and asked him if he was not better? His reply was, No! Why have you not written to me? Rebecca, if I were in your place I should have written often. It was two P.M. I stood ironing when the telegraph message came. All the day my dream had been preparing my mind for the sudden news. At 5 P.M. Father took me up to Uncle Lewis’ stopping on the way to see Bro’ Washburn, and inform him, of our wish that he should preach the funeral sermon on Sunday afternoon. . . . The funeral commenced at 1:30 P.M.

West Sandwich, July 4th A.D. 1857 Address to my Husband in Heaven My Dear, departed William: From thy bright home above, look in pity upon thy lone and sorrowing Companion, This Evening as I attempt to pen my feelings in my Journal smile thou from thy spirit land upon my feeble endeavours. William thou art gone from me, gone—gone—I miss thee! My Husband no more will greet me. Yea! No more on earth. . . . I have spent my 23rd birthday in quietness, and sorrowful. But William dost though know my thoughts tonight. Canst thou read my inmost thoughts, tonight, this night of festival and gladness to many? Of sorrow, and anguish to me. William! how sweet that name sounds to me. I love thee my William. . . . William visit me in dreams in visions of the night. I have neglected to visit thy grave this day, not from want of inclination but from detention by company. I intended to visit that precious spot at sunset, but a lady visiting at Father Crowell’s wished to ride to Sandwich and Sister Lizzie, Hiram, and myself accompanied her. . . . William, how I love to think of thee, as when I met thee in life, In health. All the happiness of a life-time has been crowded into 4 short years. The Fifth year had partly flown when thou wast taken from me, home to God, in heaven. . . . I love to write to thee William, but it is 11 oclock, and I close to dream of thee. Be with me my sainted Husband through life’s uneven journey.

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november 28, 1858 Again I am seated, pen in hand, for the purpose of writing in my journal. How I do love my Journal. I often think while about the various duties of the day how I should like to leave all, and run for this precious book, —and in solitude ponder its pages This book is one of great interest to me, containing a faithful record of my joys and sorrows, during the past Three years. I love it, O how I love it! My motive in writing this Evening is twofold. My mind since William died has delighted in meditating on sad and serious things, hence my journal evinces a melancholy tone, for as I feel, so I must write. It is to indite to paper the sad intelligence of the sudden decease of Uncle Nathaniel Ellis. . . . . . . While at Uncle Hiram Ellis’ I observed a very pretty piece of poetry, entitled “God Bless You.” I cut it from the paper, and now impart it in my Journal. God bless you, I seem to hear William say! A few moments previous to his death, I asked him what I should say to his parents? “God bless them” was his reply. Then I asked, what to your Sisters? and received the same reply. “God bless them”! O how beautiful is the expression. Tonight I am thinking of the scene on board the Ship Challenger, when my Husband lay in the struggles of death.—

west sandwich december 11th a.d. 1861 wednesday evening 11 oclock five years ago this hour my husband died. Again I am sitting, as one-two-three & four years ago, noting this sad anniversary. Not since the previous anniversary have I written in this journal. Still I am sitting in the shadow of a great grief. This day has been one, to me, of great sadness. I cannot express my feelings, but in thought I have kept saying—O how sad I am! Five years ago, in the Cabin of the Challenger, “on the mild Pacific” I held the dying form of my husband. In the world of spirits, he is dwelling and I praise God, for a good hope of one day meeting him, beside the “Throne of God.” I can say no more, how strangely sad I feel. I will trust in God. William I am still your faithful Rebecca 200

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west sandwich december 11th 1862 thursday 11 p.m. six years ago this hour my husband died. There has been around me a peculiar spiritual influence for two days past, as if William was beside me, and last night I dreamed of him, O so pleasantly! He looked and spoke as when alive, I thought we were receiving a select company of friends, and Wm said, as he so often used too, “Don’t you love to hear Rebecca laugh?” adding, “I have stood at the door often unobserved to listen to her full, clear heartfelt outbursts of merriment.” As I listened to Mrs. Gibbs narrations of her recent visit to New York last Eve my mind went back to my own visits there, in 54 & 55. O how vividly it all came back, I could seem to see Wm entering room No. 25 again, in the U.S. Hotel, saying “Come R, rake a promenade up Broadway. We will visit Stewarts, and take an ice cream at Taylors.” I hear those persuasive, and tender tones now, and memory recalls the last uttered words of him so loving—so careful—so watchful ever, as he addressed in tones growing lower & fainter by death, his first Officer, “Take care of my dear Wife.”

dec. 11th 1866 west sandwich tuesday evening 11 p.m. ten years ago this hour my husband died. One decade of my life has past since my dear husband’s death, and still I am alive. The clock has struck the hour of eleven, and here I sit where I have been writing for ten long years at this hour. The family have all retired, Our circle is unbroken. Hiram lives near by, and Lizzie also. . . . . . . My home is still with my own dear parents. It is a pleasant one. Only Thomas and I are at home. He was 21 last May. Sister Hannah and darling Lyman, the baby of all babies the prettiest, born Jan 24th/66 accompanied us to Sandwich today, called upon Auntie Price who has a babe four weeks tomorrow, Sister Lizzie has a daughter, Lilian Rebecca born Oct. 27th. I feel calm and resigned to God’s will, dear William “Till we shall meet.”6

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history of the ship’s log book, the name of that ship is the challenger, commanded by capt. wm h. burgess, of boston, ma u.s.a. Mr. Henry G. Winsor our first officer, had been with us since sailing from Boston 19 months previously. He was much liked by my husband for his efficiency in all kinds of ship work, but although familiar with the rules for working out the ships latitude & longitude, he invariably made such mistakes in his figures as to render his work unreliable. . . . During each voyage Capt. Burgess would try to persuade Mr. Winsor to spend more time in his work, and acquire the habit of exactness, and overcome the careless habit he had in figuring, but he would reply, “I am never going to be Captain of a ship, and long as your wife is competent to work out the latitude & longitude I do not care.” Thus it went on from voyage to voyage. I would take my husband’s observation, and at 12 o’clock at noon, work out the ship’s position, and my husband after taking my work which was done on a slate, and looking it over with his practiced eye, would pass it to the first officer, Mr. Winsor, for insulation in his ship’s log book. I liked the variety, and Capt. Burgess was pleased to have me do the work, which properly belonged to him, and took pride in my mathematical exactness. From this long experience of years, I acquired the habit of familiarity, and accurateness, so that when after loading with guano at the Chinchas the question aroused in my husband’s mind, which course to pursue, whether to sail direct from the Islands & straight on to Valparaiso, Chile, for medical attendance for Capt. Burgess, or go to the mainland of Peru S.A. and procure another Captain, thus making the voyage several days longer, my husband decided to sail direct from the Islands. His reply to the Captains at the Islands who remonstrated with him, saying “your first officer is incompetent to work out the ship’s latitude & longitude, and your clipper ship with its valuable cargo, and full of complement of officers & crew will never be heard from” his reply was “my wife has navigated the Challenger in these 19 months, and is fully capable of doing so now, and the delay in going to Callao may cost me my life.” He had great faith in the efficacy of medical attention, should we reach Valparaiso, Chile. On the day of sailing, many of the Ship’s Captains who were at the Islands, loading for different ports, came on land, thinking they might even yet persuade Capt. Burgess to change his mind, and go to Callao for a Capt.

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How plain and vivid it seems to me as I write this account after sixty years have elapsed, I can see the sumptuous cabins of the Challenger, elegant in its appointments, for it was a beautiful ship and one of the finest built in those days of our supremacy on the seas, when in nearly every port floated the stars & stripes. I remember sitting on a sofa in one of the recesses in the after cabin, crying on account of my husband’s illness, which was of an intestinal nature, when after arguing vainly with my husband, they came to my side, saying, “Now Mrs. Burgess if you will advise your husband to go to Callao for a Capt. he will do so, & you ought to do so, because the ship will be lost if you do not.” “I don’t think anything about that” I said, “I simply think of my husband’s life, and what a shorter voyage to Valparaiso, for a physician, may mean to him.” Then they were enraged & stormed noisily, saying, “Hear her, she is dazed, she does not know what she says, on the peril of sailing under such conditions” but amid all their vehemence, I remained unmoved. I knew I was capable of navigating the ship from months of experience, and did not even show the Captains, who were sincere in their efforts, this little log book, showing the work I had done, each day since sailing from London during the four months voyage. It did not even occur to me to do so. My mind & thoughts were occupied with the serious illness of my husband, who during all this time lay in his berth, unable to move. He was firm in his belief that it was best to sail direct from the Islands, trusting for a quick passage to Valparaiso and relief by medical attendance while there. The hours came for our departure, and for 22 days, I went steadily to my accustomed duties, of taking the chronometer time, while Mr. Winsor, in my husband’s place took the sun’s observation. Then I worked out the latitude and longitude, passing the result each day to our first-officer for copying into the ships log book, last we finish, & with never a tremor, or once thinking my work was not correct, I did my accustomed start, while steadily & surely my husband’s disease gained upon him, and upon Dec. 11, his spirit passed to be with his God. A few days before his death, he said to me, on looking over my work, as he did, each day “Now we must be in this latitude of the Island of Juan Fernando, the island made famous by Robinson Carusoe” “Now wipe your eyes and go on deck and see if you cannot be the first one to see it.” He was always encouraging me, to be hopeful and would often call me to his side, and talk of the future, saying he had obeyed the injunction of the Holy Spirit, “Let thine house in order, for thou shalt die, and not live,” and he was ready to go, when God called him.

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I obeyed his request, as it seemed to please him, and saw the green Island, and when I returned to his bedside, he remarked, “I am glad we have righted the Island, and this proves your work is earnest, and we can take a new departure . . .” ____ But alas! It was not to be. He failed continuously, and on Dec 11, 1856, at 11 o’clock, he entered into rest. When his spirit left the body I became conscious of great loneliness. I had been buoyed up by hopes of his recovery, as the trade winds favored our speed, but now all hopes were crushed, I was desolate, and ________ on the wide Pacific & my ambition ceased. I had borne the strain, & performed my accustomed tasks, but I could do no more. I said to the faithful steward, David Graves, who had with myself faithfully nursed my husband, Prepare me a state room, in the forward cabin & let me retire, and you and the first officer must attend to working out the latitude & longitude. My husband, Mr. Graves told me, had taken every opportunity wherever I sank to sleep from exhaustion, from continued weeping to inform him how to take the chronometer time, for as he with his accustomed solicititude, said, “my wife can never come to the corner where the instrument is fastened, so near is my dead body, and take the time, and you must become efficient and do it.” Knowing this, I said on the next day which was Friday, Dec 12 1856, I cannot work out the ship’s position today, please tell Mr. Winsor the first officer he understands the principles, and you must assist him, and together you can do the work, after this Mr. Winsor takes the sun’s altitude. The table at which they sat was in the room adjoining my stateroom, and I could hear Mr. Winsor say, “I cannot make my work agree with the dead reckoning, that is the position the ship should be in, according to the course sailed, and distance made by account.” After some time passed in trying to solve the difficulty, Mr. Winsor said to the steward, I wish you could tell Mrs. Burgess, “I don’t know where we are, and if she cares whether we all go to the bottom or not, I wish she would come and look over my work, and tell me what the trouble is.” I said to him, as he tapped on my door & told me of the trouble they were in, Please pass me the slate for me to examine the work. I did so, and found a mistake in figuring the result, which rectified, made the latitude & longitude to agree with the dead reckoning. Mr. Winsor had but one fault, as he frequently remarked, when urged to practise working out the latitude & longitude, “I never could 204

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reckon up a column of figures correctly when in school, and I cannot now, I get confused.” I often say to myself, what would have happened, had I not had many months’ experience, and felt capable of navigating the ship? Had confidence in my ability failed, where would the ship have gone? I could but recall, the words of several ship Captains, who on the day of sailing form the Chincha Islands, tried to persuade my husband to sail for Callao, saying “The Challenger will never be heard from, for your first officer is incompetent to take a Captain’s place, and you should have another Captain.” When my husband replied “My wife can take my place they laughed, derisively, but it was all true, and how good and overruling providence was, to permit me to retain the confidence, and ability necessary, to meet an emergency. During the years of my widowhood, I have found much pleasure, in showing this ship’s logbook, to groups of grammar and high-school pupils, telling them the importance of mastering their studies, and acquiring the habit of accuracy, so that if placed in a critical or important position they might not lost confidence in themselves, as Mr. Winsor did. It seems almost strange to relate that carelessness in figures should be the only cause of Mr. Winsor’s failure to arrive at the correct latitude & longitude, but I am glad to relate in connection with this statement, that on reaching the port of Valparaiso, when the American consul, Mr. Merrin put another Capt in charge for the voyage to Havre, France, Mr. Winsor came to me, saying, “Now Mrs. Burgess I have a confession to make, I ought to be capable of taking charge of the Challenger, and I am ashamed of myself, for not having yielded to your husband’s request—-and in the many months on board the Challenger, taken time to go over my work, daily, and try to discover my mistakes and form a habit of accuracy, but I will do it now I am to continue the voyage, and I will bend my mind to the task, and I will, God helping me, yet become a successful ship master.” This he did, I have followed his career, & found his words proved true. This I say to the groups of scholars visiting me. It is when you put your whole mind on attaining an object that you are successful. What humiliation it would have saved Mr. Winsor had he done so in his school boy days, and not formed the habit of inaccuracy. On Saturday Dec, 13, 1856, the Challenger arrived in port. Words cannot describe my feelings, as I related to the American Consul, the hopes my husband entertained of reaching this port, and obtaining medical assistance. His body was conveyed to the shore, and on the following day, a funeral was held, and preparations made for its final passage to his own native land, when a ship should be found going there.

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This was done, some days after, and in the following May, the ship Harriott Erving arrived in Boston, with his body, and funeral services were held in the church at West Sandwich, now Sagamore. His last words, as surrounded by the officers, he slowly and steadily breathed his last breath at night, Dec. 11, 1856, were “Take me home.” His prayer and request was fulfilled, and also all of the requests he made, in regard to myself, his beloved, and bereaved wife. The Lord raised up friends all along the homeward way. From Valparaiso I took a steamship to Panama. Crossing the Isthmus on the railroad, I was delayed 13 days, before connection could be made with an American Steamship sailing for New York. On Jan. 28 1857, New York was reached and on this long sad voyage, I had the care and attention of David Graves, the steward of our ship, a mulatto from Philadelphia who had been with us, during all the voyages, since sailing from San Francisco. He was a most devoted friend to my husband, & tenderly cared for him during his severe illness. Soon after my husband’s death, he came to me saying “he had promised my husband, ‘on the square,’ that both being Free Masons, to accompany me to the United States, and not leave me until he had seen me safely in his father’s home in Boston, or my parents home in W. Sandwich” adding, “I want you to tell me in the presence of these ships officers, that I may do so” for I should never know a moments peace of mind, should I break that solemn promise made to a dying man, your estimable husband.” You certainly shall keep your word, I replied. When we reached the port of Valparaiso, Chile, where we were putting in for relief as it was hoped, for my husband, and the American Consul, who was Ex-Gov. Merrin of Ohio, took charge of the ship, and arranged for the funeral obsequies, and my passage to the United States, hearing the stewards statement, he remarked “you have no need to be at the expense of having Mr. Graves, the Challenger’s steward, accompany you home, and there is a gentleman here, Mr. Burroughs by name who will take passengers in the same steamers for Boston, U.S.A. and will gladly assist in procuring your tickets, and caring for your trunks &c.” But I said, although I thank this gentleman for his kind offer, I cannot deny Mr. Graves the privilege of fulfilling his promise to my husband, and let the cost be what it may, he shall accompany me home to my native land, if God pleases to spare our lives. On the way home he told me of the many serious talks he had had with my husband, “Every time when from complete exhaustion, caused by much weeping, and deep anxiety you would seek the sofa, in the Challenger’s cabin, for a little rest,” he said, “Capt. Burgess, would call me to his bedside, and plan for your 206

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journey home to Boston, always adding, ‘you will solemnly promise me never to leave my precious wife until you see her safely to my father’s home in Boston.’” Never was such a solemn promise to a dying man more faithfully carried out. Mr. Graves, immediately after my husband’s death, said to me “Mrs. Burgess, you will not need to enter your former stateroom, to take the chronometer time, while the first officer takes the sun’s altitude, as has been your custom, all these years, as whenever there was an opportunity, and we were alone, your husband had me practiced, and now I can take your place, there.” Then he said, O so feelingly, “your husband added to his request that I become efficient in this work,” the statement which I know to be true, “my wife can never come to this room again, after my spirit passes away, her tears would prevent her seeing the figures on the chronometer, even had she strength enough to perform the work.” This is seen the hand of God, in my watch care, for worn with long vigils, and complete exhaustion I should have fainted in the attempt. To God be all the praise, for the way He has led, and cared for me! My husband died on Thursday evening at eleven o’clock. On Friday, the first officer Henry O. Winsor, took the sun’s altitude, in the forenoon, & Mr. Graves, the Chronometer time, and I said to them, “you know the rules for working out the latitude and longitude, and you must do it, without my aid, I can do it no longer my grief is too heavy.” As I sat in my stateroom in the forward cabin, nearly opposite the dining room table, where they were at work I could hear the first officer Mr. Winsor say, at intervals to the steward, Mr. Graves, “You must ask Mrs. Burgess to come here & point out our mistake, for I cannot make the Latitude & Longitude agree with what I know it should be, by dead reckoning, and I do not know what course to steer, to reach the port of Valparaiso.” Then I could hear the tremulous tones of the steward, as he said, “but Mr. Winsor she told me she could not leave her room she was so burdened with sorrow, & she had labored with you, earnestly, all those months past, to have you practise this work, until you became accurate, and let us go over the figures again, & find the mistake.” This they did, but without avail, and finally Mr. Winsor said “I do not know where we are, and you must tell Mrs. Burgess that if she cares whether we are all lost, or not, she must rectify my work,” Mr. Graves knocked at my stateroom door with this message, and I said “Ask Mr. Winsor to pass me his slate with his work upon it.” He did so, and soon I found the cause of the difficulty. In simply adding a column of figures the mistake occurred, Mr. Winsor had remarked, often, that

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“he was always dull in Arithmetic, and given to blunders, and this defect in ‘his’ education, had prevented his aspiring to the command of a ship, while in all other respects, he was fully capable of doing so.” My husband knew of this, and insisted upon his taking the office of firstmate, when this officer left the ship in San Francisco, four months after sailing from Boston, June 2nd 1855. From port to port, he had urged Mr. Winsor to retain the office, because he was such an excellent officer, saying to him, that “although I know you are not capable of taking a Capt’s place, if you should be required to, yet I believe you will fit yourself to do so, in an emergency, and under the guidance of my wife, who has worked out the latitude & longitude all these months, will overcome your careless habits in figures.” So patiently and continuously my husband labored with him, ever hoping to reform in this line because he liked the man, and wanted him as our first officer. I want to add here, to the praise of Mr. Winsor, that when the time came that he was deprived of the command of a large clipper ship, simply from, as he acknowledged to me, his own heedlessness, and carelessness, in figuring, he resolved that he should bend all his energies, to overcoming this grave defect, and on the voyage to Havre, France, after the death of my husband when another Capt. was put in command of the Challenger by the American consul, Mr. Winsor paid such close attention to this ‘defect of his’ that he fully mastered it and on the arrival in the port of Havre, France, he assumed command of a large ship, and met all the conditions for efficiency necessary. On the voyage from Valparaiso to Panama, the steward having a just pride in the part he took, in taking the chronometer time, would enlist the passengers in conversation, and one day when nearing the port of Callao, Peru, S.H. the Capt of our steamship sent his valet to my stateroom asking if I would kindly come to his cabin. On reaching it, he directed me to be seated, and passing me his epitomy & nautical almanac with his slate, on which was the suns observation & figures for working out the latitude & longitude, he said “Please Mrs. B. will you give us the position of our steamship today?” With perfect calmness and confidence, as if on board the Challenger, as in the days gone by, I complied with his request, while he stood, in surprise looking on. After figuring it out and passing him the slate with the result, he said, “Well, Mrs. Burgess, your work agrees with mine by a mile, and that is near enough, and now I will tell you why I here asked this favor of you. This steward of yours has been gathering groups of passengers about the deck, and telling them that ‘Mrs. Burgess has for years been working out the Challenger position, each day, and after her husband’s death, had saved us from possibly a watery grave, by her knowledge,’ and I did not believe it, and was resolved to 208

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prove it myself, you are the only woman I ever knew, who understood navigation.” Then taking a recent volume of Tennyson’s poems containing “In Memorium,” from his bookcase he presented it to me, as a souvenir of the occasion. I said to this brusque English Captain, please let me take my work to my stateroom and copy it into my journal, and so I have it as a reminder of that sad homeward journey. This steward, so faithful in his trust, some eight years afterwards, died in Shanghai, China, of cholera I learned. He was steward of the chipper chip Invincible, Capt. White, of Yarmouth, Mass, and she was wrecked on the island of Formosa, in the China sea, while on a voyage from San Francisco to Hong Kong, China. The ships crew were taken from the ship by a passing vessel and landed in Shanghai. A Cousin, Capt. Thomas Howes, of ship Regent, was in that port when the Capt & crew arrived, and wrote me full of particulars. Four months after the shipwreck a bible I had given Mr. Graves on parting from him in Boston was advertised by Richard H. Dana, as having been sent to him from Hong Kong, by a merchant of that place, Mr. Wm Dolan who had received it from a man who went to the Island of Formosa, to trade, and wanted it sent to Boston, in the hope that it might serve as a clue to some missing ship. It was advertised in the Boston papers and came under my notice, and satisfying Mr. Dana of its origins, he at once sent it to me, and I now have it in my possession, as a sacred relic of the past. Mr. Graves was so much interested in my husband, on his arrival in Philadelphia, from one of his foreign voyages, he took the cars and came to West Sandwich to visit his grave, and see the place of my abode. It is gratifying to recall these incidents and trace the hand of Providence in it all. The well worn lining of the box in which the Bible rests, attests to its value to the owner. I can picture him as showing it to his shipmates, and new made acquaintances as he traveled from port to port, and narrating to them the incidents connected with his stay on board the ship Challenger, when he so devotedly cared for his sick and dying commander, and then at his ________ accompanied his sorrowing wife to her New England home. Faithful friend of my husband, he rests in peace, on a foreign shore, while the one he so tenderly ministered to, sleeps in our village churchyard near to his ______ parents, and mine. My husband’s last words were “Take me home!” Can I forget that sad scene when on Dec. 11, 1856 at 11 P.M. with the Challenger’s officers about his bed and only the wide wide ocean in sight he sent kind

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parting messages to his parents & sisters in far away America, and resigned himself to God. All through his illness he bore severe pain uncomplaining & often remarking “he was reconciled to God’s will.” Soon after we sailed from the Chinchas, seeing that his disease was making much progress, he remarked in the language of the Holy Scripture, “I must set my house in order for I shall die and not live,” and he faithfully followed the injunction. His ___theory was, that a person should not on the death of a companion, ever remarry, and at his request we both made the promise “never to marry again” having it inscribed on our wedding rings. He would often say during his illness “Now you will not keep that promise, will you, Rebecca?” and I always replied “I would not dare break my word!” and now I look forward with pleasure to the time of our reunion, as I trust in a better world, when I shall say, William I have complied with your request, made when as a girl of eighteen I took the marriage vows. The Lord has cared for me all these years and now at the age of 82 I praise God for his guiding hand. “Goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life.” hannah r. burgess 7

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Notes

Introduction 1. Unfortunately I have found no surviving letters from friends or family members, town reports that discuss anything pertaining to Rebecca, or many of the letters or journals written by Rebecca’s husband William. I have also looked for the logs of ships mentioned in Rebecca’s journals, as well as correspondence or journals written by any of the people mentioned in her journals. I have come up with nothing that mentions Rebecca or her family. In effect, we can really only see Rebecca from one dimension—how she saw herself and her perception of how others saw her. We do not have a complete picture of family and friends. I have drawn as much information as possible from as many sources as I could, including birth and death records, genealogical records from the town archives, and census reports, but Rebecca’s views will, of course, predominate, since she very pointedly kept those artifacts that she believed would be important in maintaining her own legacy. 2. These scholars include Mary Mason, “The Other Voice”; Domna Stanton, The Female Autograph. Also see Paul Thompson, “Believe It Or Not,” 10. 3. Many scholars who study diaries and journals have concluded that nineteenthcentury women wrote for both a private (family or self) and an imagined audience. These scholars include Margo Culley, A Day at a Time, 12; Amy Wink, She Left Nothing in Particular, 127; Suzanne Bunkers, “Diaries,” 17; Suzanne Bunkers, “Faithful Friend,” 8; and Lynn Bloom, “I Write for Myself and Strangers,” 24. 4. Some literary critics define autobiographies as published works only (Estelle Jelnik, The Traditions of Women’s Autobiography, xii; and Valerie Sanders, The Private Lives of Victorian Women, 12). Sidonie Smith claims that diaries, letters, and journals are autobiographical writing but are “private” stories so they are “culturally muted” (A Poetics of Women’s Autobiography, 44). Sidonie Smith and Julia Watson argue that although nineteenth-century private writings were shared with friends, they were not intended for the marketplace (9), so they do not include them in their book, Before They Could Vote. However, Suzanne Bunkers argues that diaries are the “most authentic form of autobiography” because they are the least altered by editors, and because they are the “most fully representative of life as a process” (“Midwestern Diaries and Journals,” 191). I contend that Rebecca’s journals are at least public diaries, meant to be shared with William and her relatives at home, much like other diaries in the nineteenth century (Culley, A Day at a Time, 12; Wink, She Left Nothing in Particular, 127; Bunkers, “Faithful Friend,” 8; Bloom, “I Write for Myself and Strangers,” 24). I believe, too, that her donated journals may be placed in the realm of autobiography also because she clearly meant for them to gain a wider readership than just within her circle of family and friends.

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5. Martha Hodes, The Sea Captain’s Wife, 29. 6. Many literary critics explore this issue. Smith questions the authenticity of the autobiographical self when she argues that a person writing an autobiography has “distinct intentions” when presenting her life—that, in essence, the autobiographer wants to assert a position and present a certain interpretation of her life (A Poetics of Women’s Autobiography, 46). John Paul Eakin argues that the “self ” is really not an identity at all but “a kind of awareness in process” (How Our Lives Become Stories, x). Gerri Reaves maintains that the author of an autobiography is really presenting a text that has been organized and constructed in order to enable the author to speak as a single, stable persona (Mapping the Private Geography). Felicity Nussbaum maintains that a person represents herself not as an individual in diaries, but as a position within competing, or overlapping, discourses (“Toward Conceptualizing Diary,” 131–32). James Olney concludes that the autobiographer is really presenting what amounts to a metaphor for his or her own life, and that it is impossible to provide a reader with a definition or a sense of an “individual” because people are always in the process of changing, transforming, and evolving (Metaphors of Self, 29). And Leah Gilmore explains that the autobiographical writer situates herself as an “agent in autobiographical production,” that essentially she is engaged in performing the self as a way to claim agency. Gilmore uses the term “autobiographics” rather than “autobiography,” because she believes that the term better describes the author’s actions, which involve defining the subject’s position, defining the subject’s identity, and engaging in self-invention and self-representation (Autobiographics: A Feminist Theory of Women’s Self Representation, 25, 42). 7. Smith, Poetics, 54. 8. These scholars include Susan Stanford Friedman, in “Women’s Autobiographical Selves,” which argues that traditional autobiographical theory that focused on the individual as central does not apply to women and other marginalized groups because that fails to take into account the “culturally imposed identity” of women and minorities of a group identity (34–35). Also see Thompson, “Believe it or Not,” 10; and Domna Stanton, “Autogynography,” 16. Estelle Jelnik goes so far as to say that in contrast to the “one-dimensional image” that men present in their autobiographies, women often present “a multidimensional, fragmented self-image colored by a sense of inadequacy and alienation” and of being outside patriarchal norms while at the same time paradoxically showing confidence in their accomplishments of overcoming obstacles put before them in society (The Traditions of Women’s Autobiography, xiii). 9. Bloom, “I Write for Myself and Strangers,” 29–31, 35. 10. Wink, She Left Nothing in Particular, 127. 11. Gilmore, Autobiographics, 46; Smith and Watson assert that for readers of autobiography it is essential to pose the question: “What models of identity were culturally available to the narrator at her particular historical moment?” (Reading Autobiography, 168). 12. In the 1970s and 1980s, historians focused on the existence of separate spheres in Victorian society, often finding that women could use the tenets of domesticity to attain prominence in reform movements and to create homosocial worlds of support between women. The works discussing this include Barbara Welter, “The Cult of True Womanhood”; Nancy Cott, Bonds of Womanhood; Carroll Smith-Rosenberg, Disorderly Conduct; Ann Douglas, The Feminization of American Culture; and Sarah Leavitt, From Catherine Beecher to Martha Stewart, 22–89. Gillian Brown claims that the nineteenth-century ideol-

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ogy of individualism rested on the idea that women remained in the private realm, away from market forces. In Domestic Individualism, she argues that “in the midst of change the domestic sphere provided an always identifiable place and refuge for the individual: it signified the private domain of individuality apart from the marketplace” (3). In The Empire of the Mother, Mary Ryan contends that in literature the “cult of domesticity” flourished between 1830 and 1860 and “had a historical and social life of its own complete with its own pattern of transformation and internal conflicts” (17). 13. Later, historians questioned the existence of the public / private dichotomy, arguing convincingly that the real separation between the home and outside world never existed in reality. For more information, see Linda Kerber, “Separate Spheres, Female Worlds”; Jeanne Boydston, Home and Work; Karen Hansen, A Very Social Time; Mary Kelley, “Beyond the Boundaries”; Lisa Waciega, “A ‘Man of Business’”; and Catherine Kelly, In the New England Fashion. Still, the cult of domesticity as portrayed in prescriptive literature points to at least the discursive reality of gendered boundaries. As Kelly points out, the existence of heterosexual social networks and women moving far beyond the boundaries of the home brings into question “gender ideologies versus gendered experiences” (189). Frances B. Cogan argues against the ideal of the submissive woman altogether in AllAmerican Girl. She contends that the ideal of “Real Womanhood” was more popular than the concept of the submissive woman in the antebellum period. The “Real Woman” was considered the biological equal and intellectual superior of men (5–6) who was charged with the good of the nation and so had to remain strong and healthy in contrast to the frail, sickly women described by the cult of true womanhood. For more information on how middle-class white Victorian women utilized the concepts of domesticity to enact reforms in society, see Suzanne Lebsock, Free Women of Petersburg; Mary Ryan, Cradle of the Middle Class; Barbara Epstein, The Politics of Domesticity; and Lori Ginzberg, Women and the Work of Benevolence. For an extensive historiographical review of the literature on the cult of true womanhood that reflects the work of those historians who assert its existence and those who challenge the doctrine as a historical concept, see Cathy Davidson and Jessamyn Hatcher’s introduction in their edited collection No More Separate Spheres! (7–26). 14. This is consistent with how many other women present themselves autobiographically. As Smith argues in A Poetics of Women’s Autobiography, women often try to avoid being labeled a “manly woman” or notorious because of her unique activities, but instead work hard to uphold their culture’s expectations of women’s norms and behaviors. Smith maintains: “Now she weaves the story of women into her text, simultaneously maintaining allegiance to the maternal origin by reassuring her reader and herself that she is really an ideal woman who embodies the characteristics and enacts the roles assigned to her in the fictions of patriarchal culture” (54). Many historians discuss the importance of the constructed cult of domesticity, including Cott, Bonds of Womanhood; Boydston, Home and Work; Ellen Rothman, Hands and Hearts; and Smith-Rosenberg, Disorderly Conduct. 15. Journal C, 25 April 1856. Although it was not uncommon for captains’ wives to sail, most wives associated with maritime industry stayed home. For discussions of the women who went to sea, see Joan Druett, Hen Frigates; for analyses of women who stayed behind and those who went to sea, see Margaret Creighton and Lisa Norling, Iron Men, Wooden Women; and Lisa Norling, Captain Ahab Had a Wife. Norling points out that many Victorian women who chose to go on ships maintained the same reasons: they cited their duty

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as wives and their sacrifice as women, and in this way actually fabricated even stricter parameters of domesticity while in reality stepping far outside what society considered “a woman’s sphere” (238–39). This is precisely what Rebecca did aboard her husband’s ships. 16. Norling, Captain Ahab Had a Wife, 194. Karen Halttunen also describes the ways in which Victorian mourning patterns reinforced family ties and bonds of love in Confidence Men and Painted Women. 17. For more information about middle-class women who transgressed gender norms in the nineteenth century and yet embraced the very traditional values of Victorian womanhood, see Haskell Springer, “The Captain’s Wife at Sea”; Suzanne Bunkers, Inscribing the Daily; Patricia Grimshaw, Paths of Duty; Mary Zweip, Pilgrim Path; Jane Robinson, Unsuitable for Ladies; Maina Cha Singh, Gender, Religion, and the Heathen Lands; Mary Schriber, Writing Home. 18. Smith and Watson, Before They Could Vote, 5; Olney, Memory and Narrative, 60–65. 19. Olney, Memory and Narrative, 60–65, 105, 340; Smith and Watson, Reading Autobiography, 16. 20. Jacquelyn Dowd Hall, “You Must Remember This,” 465; Robert McGlone, “Deciphering Memory,” 411–38, 414–20, 423. 21. Smith and Watson, Reading Autobiography, 16, 18. 22. Alan Confino, “Collective Memory and Cultural History,” 1390; Daniel James, “Meatpackers, Peronists, and Collective Memory,” 1401. 23. Jacques Le Goff, History and Memory, 95. 24. In “You Must Remember This,” Hall suggests that memory is transferred generationally and is “sustained by everyday performance of the self ” (465). Pierre Nora suggests that memories are not at all spontaneous but are organized pronouncements; in fact, they are “sites of memory” that are defended against history (“Between Memory and History,” 12). See, too, David Thelen, “Memory and American History,” 1119. 25. Thelen, “Memory and American History, 1125; Michael Kammen, Mystic Chords of Memory, 10. 26. For a complete description of these works, see chapter 8. 27. In A Midwife’s Tale Laurel Thatcher Ulrich introduces us to the world of Martha Ballard by beginning each chapter with excerpts from her journals. Although Ballard’s entries, like most colonial day-books or journals, are very short—sometimes just a line or two—Ulrich’s methodology here enables us to get a true sense of what Ballard was thinking, doing, and even feeling in her daily life. Rebecca’s entries are typical of a middle-class Victorian woman with plenty of time on her hands—entries are far longer, and I have had to shorten them. But I hope that by emulating Ulrich’s use of the journals, the reader will derive a sense of Rebecca—and of the prodigious journals she left behind.

C ha p t e r 1 . Re b e c c a ’ s Worl d 1. Flowers in Frolic, these selections are recorded in the order they appear in the journal. 2. Anya Jabour argues, in Scarlett’s Sisters, that these autograph books preserve a “material culture of female friendship” because they reflect the attachments girls had to each other (77). Rebecca’s is a bit different, as it lists male friends—and, of course, William— but Rebecca went to a coeducational public school, so it is not surprising that hers has inscriptions from men and women. 3. Ibid., 77–79.

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4. Henry David Thoreau, Cape Cod, 17. 5. Crowell Genealogy file, Sandwich Historical Center, Sandwich Public Library; H. R. Burgess Will, 18186 8-562, Barnstable County Courthouse. 6. Atlas of Barnstable County, Massachusetts, Compiled from Recent and Actual Surveys and Records (Boston: George H. Walker, 1880). This atlas can be found at the Jonathan Bourne Public Library, Bourne. 7. Rebecca Burgess to Lennie, 4 April 1917, Box 1, Folder 1, Rebecca Burgess Collection, Sandwich Glass Museum; Atlas. 8. Crowell Genealogy file, Sandwich Historical Center, Sandwich Public Library; H. R. Burgess Will, 18186 8-562, Barnstable County Courthouse. 9. Karen V. Hansen, A Very Social Time, 52. Hansen challenges the concept of separate spheres by arguing that in New England villages men and women participated in various social activities together, all of which fostered a sense of mutuality and connections, and also built communities by providing emotional and material support to those within it. For more information about how rural families maintained their kin and neighbor networks through the antebellum period, see Catherine Kelly, In the New England Fashion. Also, in Bonds of Community, Nancy Grey Osterud discusses the tremendous importance of kin and family networks throughout the nineteenth century. Although her work focuses on the post-bellum period (1855 to the early 1900s), her analysis of rural life in New York suggests that kin and neighbor networks were extremely important to holding the community together—obviously this network was so important that it extended well beyond the early decades of the nineteenth century. 10. In order to understand the way that the town of Sandwich and the Crowell family experienced change, it is important to look briefly at how changes to agriculture and industry swept through Massachusetts during the antebellum period. Although some historians question how pervasive cultural change might have been in the New England farm sector, it is clear that the emerging transportation systems and markets had an important effect on Massachusetts farmers. Farmers now traveled further and more often to sell their surplus goods. Although a local barter system may have continued in some areas, cash became the dominant mode of exchange in the antebellum period. The cashbased economy did not necessarily destroy kin and neighbor networks in small towns, but it decreased the level of obligations between consumers and producers. Still, historians note that, in many agricultural areas, merchants and artisans who supplied goods to farmers tended to maintain land for themselves. New England farms remained small and less productive compared to other regions. Many farmers continued the longtime tradition of supplying their families’ needs first and then selling surplus land. Early nineteenthcentury Massachusetts farmers appeared reluctant to change their farming techniques, choosing to clear more acreage on their land instead of improving existing soil. Given many farmers’ reluctance to change their way of life, the emergence of industries in rural areas often caused conflict between farmers and industrialists. The emergence of industry often caused social upheaval in small New England towns, but the trend toward industrialization involved a slow process in which agrarian families played an important role. Decreasing farm sizes, the appearance of diverse service occupations within traditionally agrarian areas, and the growing road and rail systems facilitated the emergence of new industries. Moreover, the ability of agrarian families to perform out-work, or the manufacturing of goods in their own homes, facilitated a transi-

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tion to manufacturing. Many of these families provided the workers for factory towns and villages. Visitors to nineteenth-century towns could see a variety of factory models, as in Webster and Lawrence, where the towns virtually were the textile mills. They might also see towns in transition, like Lynn, where the shoe factories emerged as part of a preexisting artisan shoemaking industry. One aspect of industry that most towns held in common was the transitional nature of the workforce, in which many came and then left to find more lucrative positions. In addition, most New England antebellum towns experienced an influx of migrants to the area. Migrants first came from surrounding towns and then from overseas, particularly from Ireland. For more information, see Jonathan Prude, The Coming of the Industrial Order; Hal S. Barron, “Staying Down on the Farm”; and Karen Hansen, A Very Social Time. These authors argue that many of the traditions of the agrarian communities, including maintaining social networks, working to feed families first and then produce for the market, and providing labor and support for one another in reciprocal kin and neighbor relationships remained constant. For information on how the market affected the countryside, see Winifred Barr Rothenberg, From Market-Places to the Market-Economy, 85; Christopher Clark, The Roots of Rural Capitalism, 8, 198–99, 222–23. In The Coming of the Industrial Order Prude convincingly argues that relations between farmers and Slater were tense in the towns of Dudley and Oxford. Although farmers clearly benefited economically from new markets provided by the textile workers, and children of farmers had another work option in the town, ultimately problematic relations over town governance caused Slater to found a new town, Webster, in which industrial interests would dominate. See David Vickers, Farmers and Fishermen, 262, 301; Thomas Dublin, Transforming Women’s Work; Prude, The Coming of the Industrial Order, 99; and Dublin, “Women and Outwork in a Nineteenth-Century New England Town,” 51. For more information on migration to the towns, the nature of industrial workforces, and the structure of factory towns, see Prude, The Coming of the Industrial Order; Mary Blewett, Men, Women, and Work; Stephan Thernstrom, Poverty and Progress; Donald Cole, Immigrant City; and Alan Dawley, Class and Community. Walter Licht, in Industrializing America, discusses the various forms industrialization took in nineteenth-century towns (23–34). 11. Statistic from Rothenberg, From Market-Places to the Market-Economy, 113. For more information on the market and industrial revolution, see Harry L. Watson, Liberty and Power; Charles Sellers, The Market Revolution; Allan Kulikoff, The Agrarian Origins of American Capitalism; and Licht, Industrializing America. Many scholars have debated the origins of the market revolution and its effects on Massachusetts. For more information, see Clark, The Roots of Rural Capitalism; Prude, The Coming of the Industrial Order; and Vickers, Farmers and Fishermen. Historians who focus on the creation of a new middle class include Mary Ryan, Cradle of the Middle Class; Halttunen, Confidence Men and Painted Women; and Paul E. Johnson, A Shopkeeper’s Millennium. Scholars examining the growth of a working class include Sean Wilentz, Chants Democratic; David Roediger, Wages of Whiteness; Blewett, Men, Women, and Work; and Dublin, Transforming Women’s Work. And Kelly argues that the provincial middle class emerged with values not in opposition to their rural poor neighbors but to the urban middle class, which exhibited more exclusivity in their manners and dress in In the New England Fashion. 12. Sandwich was unique in one economic aspect; the town’s major industry was not textiles or shoes but glass production that focused on creating decorative pieces used

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by the emerging middle class. In the antebellum period Sandwich was a large town stretching from modern-day Mashpee to Sagamore (see Map 1) and south to Falmouth. This town is the oldest on the Cape, founded in 1629 as Saugus plantation, a satellite of Plymouth, and formally settled as Sandwich in 1637. In the early 1700s Sandwich already boasted a diverse economy; visitors found docks that accommodated small packet ships to Boston through the Cape Cod Bay and to southern cities through Nantucket Sound. Farmers used the grist mill to grind their grain, and they raised sheep and cut timber to supplement their plantings. Two shoemaker shops and a merchant’s warehouse supplied farmers with consumer goods. See R. A. Lovell, Sandwich, 133, 151, 163. 13. Jarves took advantage of the transportation opportunities in Sandwich, importing sand from New Hampshire and using the packets to ship his products to Boston. By 1848 the Cape Cod Railroad opened to Sandwich, much to the delight of residents and Jarves, who had a new commercial route for his goods. The railroad joined the packet and stagecoach to provide yet another option to reach Boston. The railroad was faster and more reliable than the alternative transportation possibilities, and residents were thrilled to be able to reach Boston in a single morning. As the newspaper gleefully reported, “The railroad, it is said, has opened the world to Cape Cod” (Lovell, Sandwich, 279–83; “Opening of the Cape Cod Branch Railroad,” Sandwich Observer 27 March 1848, 2.) 14. A perusal of census data suggests just how much change occurred in Sandwich over the course of the early nineteenth century. In 1820 the number of Sandwich residents totaled 2,484. Of those residents, there were 5 immigrants, representing.002 percent of the population; 326 men worked in agriculture, 165 in commerce (which could include maritime), and 128 in manufacturing (see Table 1 in the appendix). By 1840 the town had grown to 3,483 residents. 380 men worked in agriculture, 20 in commerce, 275 in maritime industries, and 256 in manufacturing. Although manufacturing had yet to overtake the other industries, it was making serious headway, while the number of farmers declined proportionally. By the 1850s Sandwich had experienced the in-migration of foreign-born workers, particularly from Ireland. Out of a total of 4,368 residents, 336 were not nativeborn (over 7% of the population) and, of those immigrants, 261 were Irish. The town’s social landscape had changed, as had its economic output. By 1850 only 191 men listed their occupation as farmer, and 206 were sailors or sea captains; 321 listed their occupations as unskilled laborers, and of those, 72 were Irish. Skilled glass workers numbered about 100, 29 of whom were immigrants from England and Ireland. Other large occupational categories included merchants (65) and carpenters (59). U.S. Census reports 1820, 1840, and 1850 for Sandwich, County of Barnstable, available at http:\\www.ancestry.com (accessed 3 August 2009). Paul Faler notes that 10 percent of the workers in Lynn and 30 percent in Lawrence were Irish immigrants (Mechanics and Manufacturers, 144–45). For information on the migration of agricultural workers to factory work, see Faler, Mechanics and Manufacturers; Vickers, Farmers and Fishermen; Alan Dawley, Class and Community; Blewett, Men, Women, and Work; and Dublin, Transforming Women’s Work. 15. No direct anti-Irish sentiment exists in the scant extant copies of Sandwich newspapers; however, glass historian Harriot Buxton Barber cites nativist sentiments in the neighboring newspaper, the Barnstable Patriot. In 1830 the paper reported, “One of the evils attendant on great corporations, and not the least important, is the great influx of foreigners of the lowest grade.” Barber also noted editorials about drunkenness and a general sense of disreputable behavior in Jarvesville. In addition, Dorothy Hogan-Schofield’s

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study of factory workers reveals latent anti-Irish sentiment even within the walls of the glass company. She found that the Irish workers there felt as if they were not welcome, and wrote home in their letters that the company did not want to hire more Irish workers. See Donald Cole, Immigrant City, 26; Dawley, Class and Community, 131; Harriot Buxton Barbour, Sandwich, 60, 62; and Dorothy Hogan-Schofield, “Life Beyond the Factory.” 16. Agriculture and small industries originally provided a strong economic infrastructure in Sandwich, but maritime trades also formed an important part of the traditional Sandwich economy. The packet trade to Boston and to southern city ports provided fast and cheap transportation of goods and passengers to urban centers. In addition to the transportation business, one small business that benefited from the maritime boom was the Burgess & Ellis firm, which built vessels in Sandwich through 1864. These vessels were small, built for the packet and fishing industries. Burgess & Ellis built the largest of their ships in Sagamore Hill, near Rebecca’s neighborhood, in 1844. It topped out at four hundred tons, a far cry from the transglobal vessels whose tonnage could top out at well over one thousand tons. Many sailors also made their home in Sandwich, and as town historian Richard Lovell discovered, most of those captains and mariners hailed from Rebecca’s village and from other villages outside the Sandwich town center, including North Sandwich, Monument, and Pocasset (Lovell, Sandwich, 314–18). 17. 1850 Census, 52–60; Kelly, In the New England Fashion, 15. 18. Statistic from Edward Pessen, “The Egalitarian Myth and the American Social Reality,” 1018; Tax valuation records, Sandwich Historical Center, Sandwich Public Library; 1850 Census, 52–60; Economic History Services Website, http: //eh.net/hmit /compare/ (accessed 3 August 2009). Although this is an imprecise method, based on calculating the changing Consumer Price Index, it is still useful. At the time of printing, this website calculated up through 2008. 19. “Sandwich Town Meeting,” Sandwich Observer, 8 April 1848, 2. 20. Ibid. For information on the diverse backgrounds of the provincial middle class, see Kelly, In the New England Fashion, 15. 21. Though not all the Burgesses, Ellises, Harlows, and Crowells were farmers or sailors, neither were they the major industrialists of the area. 22. Lovell, Sandwich, 314–18. 23. Gillian Brown, Domestic Individualism, 78. 24. Autograph album, Flowers in Frolic. Halttunen, in Confidence Men and Painted Women, discusses the importance of sincerity to middle-class Victorians, which can explain the strong focus on friendship and faithfulness in these entries. 25. Jack Larkin, “The View from New England,” 252–53; Faler, Mechanics and Manufacturers, 118. 26. Rebecca recorded this remembrance on 1 April 1854 in A. The following articles are from the Sandwich Observer: “School Reports,” 1 April 1847, 1; “Sandwich Town Meeting, 8 April 1848, 2; “Report of Town Schools, 1847–1848,” 1; “School Reports,” 14 April 1849, 1; “School Report,” 20 April 1850, 2; “Letter to the Editor,” 27 April 1848, 2. 27. In “Reading Women / Women Reading,” Mary Kelley argues that books formed the basis of women’s “dense and diversified mental life” irrespective of formal education (403). For Rebecca’s opinion on novels, see her entry on 4 November 1852, A. 28. “Infant mortality in Massachusetts,” Series B148, 57, U.S. Bureau of the Census, Historical Statistics; Maris Vinovskis, “Mortality Rates and Trends,” 208. Vinovskis argues that

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it is very hard to obtain accurate statistics from Massachusetts before 1860, particularly in rural areas, because of the underreporting that occurred at that time. For more information about Massachusetts vital statistics, see Vinovskis, “Mortality Rates and Trends.” 29. Gary Laderman, The Sacred Remains, 26. 30. For more information about Victorian attitudes toward death, see Halttunen, Confidence Men and Painted Women, 130–32. Sylvia Hoffert, in “A Very Peculiar Sorrow,” discusses the feelings surrounding the death of children. Information on Rebecca’s siblings from tax valuation records, Crowell Genealogy file, Sandwich Historical Center, Sandwich Public Library. 31. Martha Hassell, The Challenge of Hannah Rebecca, 7. 32. 5 March 1854, A; Samuel Eliot Morison, The Maritime History of Massachusetts, 1783–1860, 106–7, 109, 351. 33. Rothman, Hands and Hearts, 26, 35; Karen Lystra, Searching the Heart, 7, 9, 17. 34. All poems can be found in Flowers in Frolic; Lystra, Searching the Heart, 46, 48–49, 51.

C ha p t e r 2 . B e c o m i n g t h e C a p ta i n ’ s W i f e 1. 8 November 1852, A. 2. William to Rebecca, 14 April 1853, inserted into the front of A. 3. Ellen Rothman, Hands and Hearts, 170. 4. Nancy Cott, Bonds of Womanhood, 13–14. Nancy Osterud and John Fulton used Sturbridge, Massachusetts, for their case study on age of marriage and fertility, titled “Family Limitation and Age and Marriage,” statistic on 485. 5. July 1852, A. 6. Opening page, A. 7. Catherine Kelly, In the New England Fashion, 6–7; Molly McCarthy, “A Pocketful of Days,” 285–86; Jane Hunter, “Inscribing the Self in the Heart of the Family,” 58; Culley, A Day at a Time, 8; Joanne Cooper, “Shaping Meaning,” 95. 8. At least two pages with writing on them are cut out of this journal—when Rebecca removed them is a mystery. It would be interesting to know if she self-censored before she determined to donate this journal to the historical society or if she cut out the pages while rereading them as a young woman. 9. Log of the Herbert, last entry, just behind 14 July 1852. 10. First page, A. 11. 7 August 1852, 11 August 1852, A. 12. 16 August 1852, A. 13. 17August 1852, A. 14. 29 September 1852, A. 15. 18 October, 1852, A. 16. Richard Henry Dana, Two Years Before the Mast, focuses on the lives of sailors but is punctuated by sketches of individuals. They appear morbid after a death aboard the ship, superstitious, and extremely hard-working, as well as generous with Dana, who was new to the maritime world but wanted to learn. Thomas Philbrick argues that Cooper, the progenitor of the nautical novel in America, depicted sailors as “habitually energetic, resourceful, and daring.” Cooper also imbibed sailors with “vigor and essential dignity,” according to Philbrick, in James Fenimore Cooper and the Development of American Sea

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Fiction, 80. Jeffrey Bolster’s Black Jacks argues that sailors did stand apart from the general population, having a collective sense of their distinctiveness. They worked harder in bad weather ( unlike farmers, for example), their clothing was cut shorter when aboard working and much longer for dress wear, and their hairstyles and oath-ridden language became a way to identify themselves as a class (83–84, 91). Paul Gilje’s Liberty on the Waterfront also describes the stereotypes of sailors held by many in nineteenth-century society, which included their propensity for “drinking, cursing, carousing, fighting, misbehaving, and spending to excess while on leave” (24). But at the same time that they decried this behavior, Gilje argues that the middle-class romanticized sailors, viewing them as generous, noble, and self-sacrificing, motivated more by the heart than the mind (202). Perhaps this vision came from reading maritime literature. 17. 13 September 1852, A. 18. Ibid. 19. 2 October 1852, A. 20. 16 October 1852, A. 21. 11 August 1852, A. 22. 28 September 1852, A. 23. 8 October 1852, A. 24. 7 November 1852, A. 25. For more information about gender roles and the gender constraints of Victorian society, see Jeanne Boydston, Home and Work; Cott, Bonds of Womanhood; and Kelly, In the New England Fashion. 26. 2 October 1852, A. 27. 28 October 1852, A. 28. Kelly, In the New England Fashion. 29. 13 September 1852, A. 30. July 1852, A; this entry is from memory—she could not remember the precise date. 31. 2 October 1852, A. 32. Ibid. 33. Kelly, In the New England Fashion, 164. 34. Halttunen, Confidence Men and Painted Women, xvi, 35–37, 39. 35. 8 October 1852, 19 October 1852, A. 36. 18 October 1852, A. 37. 16 October 1852, A. (second page). 38. 18 October 1853, A. 39. 29 September 1852, 2 October 1852, 22 August 1852, 16 October 1852, all in A. 40. Many historians note this prevailing belief, spoken by women and reiterated in the stories they read. To learn more, see Gillian Brown, Domestic Individualism; Mary Ryan, The Empire of the Mother; Sarah Leavitt, From Catherine Beecher to Martha Stewart; Lori Ginzberg, Women and the Work of Benevolence. 41. 7 August 1852, A. 42. 13 September 1852, A. 43. Ibid. 44. 8 October 1852, A. 45. 4 November 1852, A. Suzanne Ashworth, “Susan Warner’s The Wide, Wide World,” 142, 144–45, 147. For themes in and information about the readers of and impact of

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romance literature, see Laura McCall, “‘With all the Wild, Trembling, Rapturous Feelings of a Lover’” and “‘Shall I Fetter Her Will?’”; and Mary Kelley, “Reading Women/Women Reading.” 46. 22 August 1852, 13 September 1852, 4 November 1852, A. 47. 13 September 1852, A. 48. 17 August 1852, A. 49. 27 October 1852, A. 50. 29 October 1852, A. 51. 7 November 1852, A. 52. 8 November 1852, A. 53. 10 November 1852, B. 54. Page 1, B. 55. 11 November 1852, B. 56. 13 November 1852, 5 December 1852, B. 57. 2 March 1853, B. 58. 30 April 1853, B. 59. For more information, see Gilje, Liberty on the Waterfront. Gilje provides an indepth and extremely fascinating study of maritime culture in America. Daniel Vickers and Vince Walsh argue that, by the mid-nineteenth century, New England port cities had actually set aside “sailortowns” to contain this behavior and these activities. To be fair to sailors, the perception came from the fact that most were unmarried and had nowhere to go besides these boarding houses when they reached the shore (208–15). 60. William to Rebecca, 14 April 1853, inserted into the front of A. 61. Ibid. 62. 31 July 1853, A. 63. 15 November 1853, B. 64. 31 October 1853, A. 65. 3 December 1853, 7 December 1853, B. 66. 5 December 1853, 6 December 1853, 2 December 1853, B. 67. 11 December 1853, B. 68. Debby Applegate, “Henry Ward Beecher and the ‘Great Middle Class,’” 111. 69. Ibid., 113, 118, 123. 70. 21 December 1853, 11 December 1853, B. 71. 6 December 1853, B. 72. 21 November 1852, A; 11 November 1852, 1 January 1853, B.

C ha p t e r 3 . Re b e c c a at Se a 1. Journal A. 2. Journal B. 3. Martha Hassell, The Challenge of Hannah Rebecca, 17. Many books relate the history of women at sea, including Linda Grant DePauw, Seafaring Women; Joan Druett, Hen Frigates; Jim Coogan, Sail Away Ladies; Margaret Creighton, Rites and Passages; and Lisa Norling, Captain Ahab Had a Wife. Statistic from Norling, Captain Ahab, 2. 4. Creighton, Rites and Passages, 79. 5. K. Jack Bauer, A Maritime History of the United States, 89–91; Robert Albion et. al, New England and the Sea, 98, 143–45; John Butler, Sailing on Friday, 44.

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6. James Delgado, To California by Sea, 19, 43–46; Andrew Gibson and Arthur Donovan, The Abandoned Ocean, 43, 49–50, 61. 7. Charles Schultz, Forty Niners ’Round the Horn, 178, 211; Daniel Vickers with Vince Walsh, Young Men and the Sea, 198–99. For information on eighteenth-century troubles, see Marcus Rediker, Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, 92–93, 156–57. Given that the maritime sail-based transport had not changed significantly between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the information Rediker provides is relevant to the sailors Rebecca observed. The best general history of sailors and maritime culture in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century is Paul Gilje’s Liberty on the Waterfront. Gilje skillfully describes the ideologies of liberty and wanderlust embraced by the sailors, carefully describes the dockside cultures that sailors, their women, and those who tried to reform their habits strove to create, and explains the dangers, harsh conditions, and excitement of life aboard a ship at the turn of the nineteenth century. 8. Vickers and Walsh, Young Men and the Sea, 198. 9. William Crothers, The American-Built Clipper Ship, 1850–1856, xvi–xvii. 10. 27 October 1852, A. 11. Norling, “Ahab’s Wife,” 89; Druett, Hen Frigates, 22; Julia Bonham, “Feminist and Victorian,” 207. 12. 26 February 1854, A. 13. 5 March 1854, A. 14. 9 March 1854, A. 15. 25 March 1854, A. 16. In “The Captain’s Wife at Sea,” Haskell Springer notes “Living on the same ship with dozens of other people, the wife was too often painfully isolated, because her sex and her elevated social position mean that except for her husband she was normally on speaking terms—and formal ones at that—with only the mates, steward, and cabin boy” (95). 17. Druett, Hen Frigates, 60–61; Springer, “The Captain’s Wife at Sea,” 95; Coogan, Sail Away Ladies, 43. 18. 1 March 1854, A. 19. 5 March 1854, A. 20. 5 March 1854, A. 21. 6 March 1854, A. 22. 13 March 1854, A. 23. 5 March 1854, A. 24. 24 March 1854., A. 25. 12 March 1854, 13 March 1854, A. She also praised their work on 1 April, 30 May, and 1 June 1854, all in A. 26. 1 March 1854, A. 27. 7 March 1854, A. 28. 25 March 1854, A. 29. It may well also have been an exercise in soul-searching for Rebecca. Many Victorian women used their journals as a way to self-improve through introspection See Gayle Davis, “Women’s Frontier Diaries,” 6–7; Joanna Brown Gillespie, “‘The Clear Leadings of Providence,’” 199. 30. 8 March 1854, A. 31. Coogan, Sail Away Ladies, 40.

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32. 12 March 1854, A. 33. 16 April 1854, A. 34. 2 April 1854, A. 35. 28 March 1854, A. 36. 3 April 1854, A. William was like other sea captains in this respect; many tried to do whatever they could to make their wives’ voyages easier. Julia Bonham argues, in “Feminist and Victorian,” that, in fact, many captains made every effort to make their wives as comfortable on journeys as possible (218). 37. 7 May 1854, A. 38. For the origins of this belief, perpetuated by Victorian middle-class prescriptive literature and other cultural institutions, see endnotes 12–13 of the Introduction. See endnotes 8–11 of the Introduction for discussion of how scholars often define women diarists’ identities. 39. 2 August 1854, “Log” of the Whirlwind. 40. That Rebecca wrote these entries for William to read may also cause many to view the entries more critically. Literary scholar Haskell Springer studied thirty-six journals of sea captains’ wives, including Rebecca’s. He found that many women attempted to portray their relationships in a better light, perhaps so they could look back at their writings and retain good memories, and also because their husbands were reading their journals. Springer concluded, however, that most of the writers were sincere. He argues that women who had positive relationships with their husbands generally wrote about them in the journals; women who did not think so well of their husbands remained noticeably silent on the matter of their relationships and their husbands (Springer, “The Captain’s Wife at Sea,” 98–99, 110). 41. 1 March 1854, A. 42. 6 March 1854, A. 43. Carl Cutler, Greyhounds of the Sea, 241. 44. Edward Snow, Women of the Sea, 114. 45. 14 March 1854, A. 46. 20 May 1854, 3 June 1854, A. 47. 16 March 1854, A. 48. 24 March 1854, A. 49. 28 March 1854, A. 50. 17 May 1854, A. 51. 20 May 1854, 28 May 1854, A. 52. Gilje, Liberty on the Waterfront, 202–14. 53. 25 May 1854, A. 54. 10 March 1854, 26 March 1854, 28 March 1854, A. 55. 13 March 1854, A. 56. 1 March 1854, A. 57. 25 February 1854, 10 March 1854, A. 58. Springer argues that many captains’ wives did exactly this—they modified their journals in order to reconstruct memories and make them more positive (“The Captain’s Wife at Sea,” 94). 59. 19 March 1854, A. 60. 26 February 1854, 3 March 1854, A. 61. 15 March 1854, A.

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62. 18 May 1854, A. 63. Druett, Hen Frigates, 40; Bonham, “Feminist and Victorian,” 214; Norling, “Ahab’s Wife,” 251–52. 64. Bohnam, “Feminist and Victorian,” 218; Springer, “The Captain’s Wife at Sea,” 103, 117. 65. 26 February 1854, 3 March 1854, A. 66. 3 March 1854, A; Rediker, Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, 187–88. 67. These transcriptions may be found in the back pages of B. Both are undated. 68. 21 March 1854, A. 69. 23 March 1854, A. 70. 14 March 1854, 24 May 1854, A. 71. For more information, see Kelly, In the New England Fashion, 168–172. 72. In “The Captain’s Wife at Sea,” Springer notes that many captains’ wives tried to “reduce the distance—psychic if not physical—from the crew” and recorded their efforts (96). 73. 26 February 1854, 22 May 1854, 13 May 1854, 19 March 1854, 26 May 1854, 3 March 1854, 1 March 1854, 2–4 April 1854, A. 74. 8 March 1854, 9 March 1854, 23 March 1854, A. 75. 29 March 1854, A. 76. 3 June 1854, A. 77. Edward Snow, Women of the Sea, 114. 78. Schultz, Forty Niners, 247–62. Many Americans published firsthand accounts of their travels in San Francisco, including William Redmond Ryan, Personal Adventures in Upper and Lower California, William Shaw, Golden Dreams and Waking Realities, and Bayard Taylor, El Dorado. 79. Note, From S. F. to Callou, June 1854, Folder 2, Box 1, Rebecca Burgess Collection, Sandwich Glass Museum. 80. Ibid. 81. Ship Whirlwind In the Stream Outward Bound, June 24 1854, Folder 2, Box 1, Rebecca Burgess Collection, Sandwich Glass Museum. 82. Bonham says that this complex merging of Victorian and feminist was absolutely typical of the seafaring wives’ writings at this time (“Feminist and Victorian,” 218); and Springer argues that “the story of these women and their journals is one of repeated contradictions” because they attained freedom from shore life while confined on a ship, they achieved traditional ends (being with their husbands) through nontraditional means (going to sea), and they put their personal stories into a public narrative in their journals (117).

Chapter 4. Challenges and Transitions 1. All taken from C. 2. D. 3. 10 June 1855, C. 4. Charles Schultz, Forty-Niners, 211; Paul Gilje, Liberty on the Waterfront, 80. 5. 17 June 1855, C. 6. 1 July 1855, C. 7. Daniel Vickers with Vince Walsh, Young Men and the Sea, 193–94.

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8. W. Jeffrey Bolster, Black Jacks, 179. 9. 2 July 1855, C; and next page. Considering that Rebecca did not know this sailor, she spent much time considering his death. 10. Joan Druett, Hen Frigates, 178. 11. Charles Schultz, Forty Niners, 215; Marcus Rediker, Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, 195. 12. 2 July 1855, C, second page. 13. 8 July 1855, C. 14. 15 July 1855, C. 15. 26 July 1855, C. 16. Ibid. 17. 29 July 1855, C. 18. 29 July 1855, C. 19. 31 July 1855, C. 20. 2 October 1855, C. 21. See Gayle Davis, “Women’s Frontier Diaries,” 6–7; Joanna Brown Gillespie, “‘The Clear Leadings of Providence,’” 199; Jane Hunter, “Inscribing the Self in the Heart of the Family,” 58; Margo Culley, A Day at a Time, 8. 22. 2 September 1855, C. 23. Ibid. 24. 13 August 1855, 2 October 1855, C; Rebecca Burgess to Charles Newell, 4 November 1855, Folder 2, Box 1, Rebecca Burgess Collection, Sandwich Glass Museum. 25. 13 August 1855, C. 26. 19 August 1855, C. 27. 9 September 1855, C. 28. 11 September 1855, C. 29. Single-sheet entry, 9 September 1855, Folder 2, Box 1, Rebecca Burgess Collection, Sandwich Glass Museum. This is one of the few times Rebecca or William recorded anything personal about the crew on this voyage, outside of injuries and deaths. From descriptions, the ship’s crew appeared typical. In fact, the crew even included an African American steward, who would become increasingly important to William as the voyage took a dangerous turn near the Chincha Islands in 1856. William would rely on David Graves, the steward, to help take care of the ship in a critical situation. David Graves was not in an unusual situation. By the nineteenth century, about one-fifth of all the one hundred thousand sailors at sea were African American. African Americans had always been a strong presence in maritime life, either as slaves or as freemen. Many participated in the American Revolution sailing for the American navy, and at the end of the Revolution, African American sailors comprised about 30 percent of the mariner population. As much as African American men located themselves within maritime life, William’s comment suggests that they also remained outsiders within the seafaring world. Free black sailors risked kidnapping in regions with slave populations, and many southern states ultimately passed laws restricting the movements of free black sailors in their ports. This fact, and the growing racism evinced in the North, actually caused a decline in the number of black sailors in the nineteenth century. By the time Graves worked aboard the Challenger, most African American men serving on ships could only find work as cooks and stewards. See Gilje, Liberty on the Waterfront, 26; and

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Bolster, Black Jacks, 2–7. Bolster’s book provides a comprehensive history of African American sailors from the colonial period through the nineteenth century. 30. Captains did not have much control over the direction or duration of voyages. The owners determined the path and usually the cargo of the ships at this time, and William probably received a wire or a letter telling him that he would move on to China next. 31. For more information about the responsibilities of a sea captain to his crew and to the ship owners, see Creighton, Rites and Passages, 28–29; Rediker, Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, 207–10; and Vickers with Walsh, Young Men and the Sea, 199–202. 32. 19 September 1855, C. 33. Ibid. 34. Ibid. 35. 21 September 1855, C. 36. 23 September 1855, C. 37. Ibid. 38. Ibid. 39. 27 September 1855, C. 40. Martha Hassell, The Challenge of Hannah Rebecca, 26; 2 December 1855, C. 41. 2 December 1855, C. 42. Ibid; 29 November 1855, C. 43. 2 December 1855, C. 44. Ibid. 45. 18 December 1855, C. 46. Jacques Downs, The Golden Ghetto, 31, 51–60; Hassell, The Challenge of Hannah Rebecca, 30. 47. 9 January 1856, C. 48. 20 January 1856, C. Rebecca’s negative comments about China are typical of many American and European travelers at the time. Through these comments, Rebecca was able to reinforce a sense of Anglo superiority that many Americans and Brits believed was a scientific fact at the time. By using examples of no hotels for “ladies” and an ignorant washerwoman, Rebecca made gender visible in this foreign port. She juxtaposed her own status against that of the women she found at port. In fact, she defined China as having very little of import except for its “curios,” which placed Rebecca squarely within the Victorian American culture of consumption for the home. Many scholars address the ways in which women travelers reinforced gender and racial hierarchies, including Mary Schribner, Writing Home; and Mary Louise Pratt, Imperial Eyes. 49. 10 February 1856, C. 50. Ibid. 51. Ibid. 52. “Speaking up,” or “gamming,” a ship was a treat for the captain and his wife when such events led to on-board visits from the other captain. It was a method by which ships hailed each other and maneuvered close enough to learn news and details from ports just visited, and if the weather and time permitted, one captain would often board the other ship for a visit and to exchange items. Linda Grant DePauw describes “gamming,” or visiting, aboard whalers in Seafaring Women, 118–21, and the way that it provided a social outlet for captains’ wives. Although Joan Druett notes in Hen Frigates that merchant ships

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could not spare the time to visit (161–62), obviously the weather was in the doldrums enough for this to occur on several occasions during Rebecca’s voyage. 53. 17 February 1856, C. 54. 2 March 1856, 9 March 1856, 16 March 1856, C. 55. 16 March 1856, C. 56. 17 March 1856, C. 57. Ibid. 58. 28 March 1856, 30 March 1856, C. 59. 9 April 1856, C. 60. 13 April 1856, C. 61. 25 April 1856, C. 62. 23 April 1856, 29 April 1856, C. 63. Hassell, The Challenge of Hannah Rebecca, 52. 64. The books are in the Sandwich Glass Museum Library (filed under “Rebecca Burgess”) and are inscribed by the people mentioned in the paragraph. 30 August 1856; undated September 1856, C. 65. 22 June 1856, C. This guano was an important fertilizer that helped speed the growing agricultural enterprise in America at the time. The Chincha Islands, off the coast of Peru, provided a rich source of this fertilizer, and the guano shipped to American ports like Baltimore and New York, as well as to Great Britain and Europe by the mid-nineteenth century. By 1852 the port of Baltimore reported receiving 25,500 tons of guano, and by 1860 it received 54,134. This trade was increasingly important in the global market, so the Challenger was an important player in this transport. See Benjamin Larabee et al., America and the Sea, 287. 66. 22 June 1856, C. 67. 17 June 1856, D. 68. 23 June 1856, D. 69. 20 August 1856, C. Rebecca noted that William had been treated with mercury, a treatment associated with syphilis in the nineteenth century, particularly in the maritime world. However, mercury was also used to treat many conditions in the nineteenth century, from heart conditions and pleurisy to eczema and digestive disorders. Without further evidence, it is impossible to know why William was initially treated with the drug. If he did have syphilis, it would explain why William and Rebecca’s relationship had become tenser throughout the Challenger voyage. It could also explain why Rebecca was ill for a time, and why the couple bore no children, as syphilis can cause sterility. For more information on mercury’s use in the nineteenth century, see Walter Sneader, Drug Discovery, 45. 70. 15 July 1856, 14 September 1856, C. 71. 4 July 1856, C. 72. 14 September 1856, C. 73. 20 September 1856, 21 September 1856, D. 74. 27 September 1856, D. 75. 30 September 1856, D. 76. 1 October 1856, D. 77. 30 October 1856, 2 November 1856, D. 78. 9 October 1856, D.

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79. 15 October 1856, D. 80. 19 November 1856, D. 81. 22 November 1856, D. 82. All these entries are in journal D. 83. 21 December 1856, D. 84. Ibid.

C ha p t e r 5 . A N ew E r a , a N ew Na rr at i v e 1. Taken from C. 2. Margo Culley, A Day at A Time, 8. 3. Paul Rosenblatt, Bitter, Bitter Tears, 3, 21, 31, 97. Joanne Cooper, in “Shaping Meaning,” also discusses the ways in which women used diaries to cope with pain and personal loss. 4. Details on this voyage can be found in entries from 16 December 1856 to 27 January 1857, C. 5. 12 January 1856, C. 6. 21 January 1856, C. 7. 27 January 1857, C. 8. 21 January 1857, C. 9. 18 February 1859, C. 10. 19 April 1857, C. 11. 26 April 1857, C. 12. 7 May 1857, 10 May 1857, C. 13. 15 September 1857, C. 14. “Expenses connected with my husband’s decease,” E; for equivalent pricing, see Economic History Services Website, http://eh.net/hmit/ (accessed 3 August 2009). 15. 16 December 1856, C; Rebecca Burgess, “History of the Ship’s Log Book,” Folder 2, Box 1, Rebecca Burgess Collection, Sandwich Glass Museum. 16. 23 March 1865, G. 17. For more information on Rebecca’s reaction to the deaths of mariners aboard the Challenger, see chapter 4 in this volume. For a discussion on nineteenth-century salaries and costs, see chapter 1. 18. Hall, “‘You Must Remember This,’” 465; McGlone, “Deciphering Memory,” 411–38, 414–20, 423. As McGlone suggests, memories have to be processed for years in order to achieve permanence, and Rebecca did this through her writing. McGlone also explains that memories of experience are reassembled rather than reexperienced. 19. 1 March 1857, C. 20. 28 February 1859, C. 21. 4 July 1862, H. 22. 25 February 1867, G. 23. McGlone, “Deciphering Memory,” 412. 24. Cynthia Huff, “‘That Profoundly Feminine, and Feminist Genre,’” 6–14, 10. 25. William Burgess, Lines to H.R.C., at sea 1851, inserted into C. 26. 13 September 1857, C. 27. Ibid.

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28. 11 December 1856, C. 29. 28 November 1858, C. 30. 30 November 1859, C. 31. 9 March 1863, G. 32. 27 February 1860, C. 33. 4 November 1864, G. 34. 28 November 1858, C. 35. 23 May 1862, H. 36. Entries from December 11 from 1858 to 1873 can all be found in C. 37. Karen Halttunen, Confidence Men and Painted Women, 124, 130–31; Hoffert, “‘A Very Peculiar Sorrow,’” 612. 38. Halttunen, Confidence Men and Painted Women, 170, 136–37. 39. 9 January 1857, C. 40. 4 July 1862, H. 41. 17 November 1859, C. 42. 12 February 1863, G. 43. Economic History Services Website. http://eh.net/hmit/ (accessed 3 August 2009). 44. Information about the purchase and commissioning of the poem, 5 September 1857, C. 45. 20 September 1857, C. 46. 18 October 1857, C. 47. 1 May 1857, C. 48. 4 July 1857, C. 49. 4 July 1858, C. 50. 15 March 1861, F. 51. 3 May 1863, G. 52. 15 June 1865, 15 April 1867, 3 May 1867, 21 June 1867, H; 5 May 1865, 6 May 1865, G. 53. 24 February 1867, G. 54. 7 June 1857, C; 7 July 1864, 15 April 1867, 3 May 1867, 21 June 1867, 22 June 1864, G. 55. 1 May 1865, F; 15 June 1865, 15 June 1864, 5 May 1867, G.

C ha p t e r 6 . V i si b l e a n d I n v i si b l e 1. From Journal H. 2. From E, a financial ledger, loaned to Sandwich Historical Society by John Tassinari. Note: there are financial entries until 1861 and then sporadic entries in 1862–63. The last entry is in 1868. 3. In several places Rebecca mentions specifically who was reading her work—in one instance, she noted that she had loaned her journal to her best friend, Lucy Bourne, and in another she mentioned that the minister and his wife had taken great interest in her scrapbook, which lay out on a table for public view. The only journal that I believe she kept to herself at this time was the Challenger journal. I don’t have proof of this, but the fact that she took it out late at night, generally after her family went to sleep, as well as the many entries directed to William, lead me to believe that this was a journal she kept to herself.

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4. Since Rebecca was making loans to family and friends and collecting on the notes, it would have been impossible not to notice what she was doing. In fact, Martha Hassell, in The Challenge of Hannah Rebecca, mentioned that Rebecca made loans. 5. Much work has been done parsing out the nature of multiple identities for women. As Nancy Hewitt argues about the Afro-Cuban and Euro-American women she studies in “Compounding Differences,” “as one moved across time and place, [identities] resonated in different ways” (321). Kristin Novotny, in “‘Taylor’-Made?” maintains that creating “a non-exclusionary, non-reductionist, non-oppressive theory of identity is crucial to the normative project of empowering women and valuing their unique voices (1). And Naomi Abrams, in her study of voluntary work and community participation, points out that women’s choices of activities suggest the multiplicities of identity. For example, middleclass white volunteers sometimes pursued unpaid work that supported the values of traditional motherhood because they had left high-status jobs in the workforce and were trying to negotiate their new status as stay-at-home mothers (“Negotiating Power, Identity, Family, and Community,” 783). These are but a few of the works referencing women and identity, but they speak to the ways in which historians and feminist scholars employ the concept of multiple identities. 6. R. A. Lovell, Sandwich, 342–44. 7. “The Sandwich Volunteers,” Barnstable Patriot, 30 April 1861, 2. 8. Lovell, Sandwich, 348. 9. Lori Ginzberg, Women and the Work of Benevolence, 135–36, 150–53, 173. 10. “Patriotic Ladies of West Sandwich,” Barnstable Patriot, 17 December 1861, 1. 11. 13 July 1865, G. 12. Most Victorian Americans often cast the war as a philosophical debate over the state of the nation and generally saw the debate in spiritual terms, rather than as a debate over slavery (Anne C. Rose, Victorian America and the Civil War, 66, 240–41). As the Yarmouth Register noted in the early months of the war, “We trust and believe that the folly and wickedness of to-day is to endure but for a season,—that the reason and loyalty of the nation will triumph over madness and passion” (“Progress of the War,” Yarmouth Register, 5 July 1861, 2). 13. 4 July 1862, H. 14. 27 June 1864, 13 May 1864, G. 15. 27 May 1864, G; “Reception of the Sandwich Guards,” Yarmouth Register, 13 June 1864, 2. 16. 28 October 1864, 8 November 1864, G. 17. 10 April 1865, 14 April 1865, 17 April 1865, G. 18. 4 May 1865, G. 19. 24 June 1861, H. 20. 23 May 1862, H. 21. 19 January 1863, H. 22. 17 June 1863, 21 April 1864, G. 23. 18 December 1863, G. 24. 23 June 1864, 30 June 1864, G. 25. 6 August 1865, margin note, G. 26. 17 October 1861, H.

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27. 12 June 1865, G. Other entries noting meetings include 23 April 1863, 15 February 1863, 8 February 1865, 16 May 1866, 19 August 1866, 29 September 1866, 2 December 1866, 24 September 1867, 12 March 1867, 15 April 1867, 4 June 1867, 5 June 1867, 21 June 1867, 25 August 1868, all in G. 28. 15 February 1863, G; 11 November 1870, C. For references to the spiritual support Rebecca felt, see the entries in note 27, above. 29. Rev. F. L. Brooks et al., Yarmouth Camp Meeting, 16; Irving Lowell, The Story of the Yarmouth Camp Ground, 20, 27, 32. 30. 13 September 1863, G. 31. 16 August 1864, G. 32. 9 August 1870, 13 September 1870, G. 33. 28 September 1862, G. 34. 16 February 1863, G. 35. 9 August 1863, G. 36. 16 August 1864, G. 37. 8 February 1865, G. 38. 13 August 1867, G. 39. 25 August 1868, G. 40. 11 December 1868, C. 41. Cycling excursions and outdoor recreation became as popular as traditional family picnics, and women engaged in these athletic activities alongside men. Women also attended college with men in the post–Civil War era. By 1879 almost half the universities in the country were coeducational. Marriage rates declined for college-educated women, who, if they did get married, had fewer children. Women also entered the paid workforce in large numbers by the turn of the century. In 1900 over 75 percent of office workers were women. At that time one-third of federal government employees were women. While these women moved far beyond the confines of the home, they never criticized the values of the home. Still, their lifestyle implicitly threatened women like Rebecca who clung to more traditional norms of womanhood. Historian Sarah Deutsch, in Women and the City, explored the activities of elite women in Boston and found that, for many, their philanthropic efforts were actually an attempt to support their sense of Victorian values in a society that was fast changing. These women promoted reforms such as cleaning up the streets and getting women out of factories and other “morally dangerous” places as a way to reinforce Victorian values and control this society (54, 67–75). For descriptions of the meanings of Victorian philanthropy, see Ginzberg, Women and the Work of Benevolence, 14–15, 17–18, 37, 50–52, 65–66; and Nancy Cott, Bonds of Womanhood, 134–35, 138, 154, 158. Southern women also participated in a myriad of volunteer activities; for information on their ideologies and activities, see Suzanne Lebsock, Free Women of Petersburg; and Elizabeth Varon, We Mean to Be Counted. For the changes happening in the late nineteenth century, see Carroll Smith-Rosenberg, Disorderly Conduct, 175–76; Thomas Schlereth, Victorian America, 33, 146–47, 151, 209, 221; and Catherine Clinton, The Other Civil War, 91, 128, 135. For an excellent synthesis of the “New Woman,” see Nancy Woloch’s Women and the American Experience: A Concise History. For more information on the coming of the “New Woman,” see Carolyn Kitch, Girl on the Magazine Cover; Sharon Hartman Strom, Beyond the Typewriter; Ellen Fitzpatrick, Endless Crusade; and William Chafe, The Paradox of Change. Margaret Gullette argues, in “Invent-

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ing the ‘Postmaternal’ Woman,” that in the pronatalist and patriarchal society of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, post-maternal women were not worth much. In fact, this was a distinct shift from Victorian times, when post-maternal women were praised for having done their duty and could look forward to the end of their childrearing years (222–23, 224, 225–26). 42. “Amount Collected for Various Benevolent Purposes, 1863,” E; 23 April 1863, G. 43. 15 July 1865, H; 4 July 1866, G. 44. 12 December 1866, 27 December 1866, G. 45. 13 November 1868, G. 46. 16 January 1875, 27 May 1876, 1 March 1879, all in “West Sandwich,” Seaside Press, 2; Rebecca Burgess to Dr. Cullen, 6 October 1873, scrapbook in envelope, Rebecca Burgess Collection, Box 1. 47. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Observer, 25 July 1893, 3. 48. 18 February 1863, G. 49. 28 December 1866, G; “Sagamore,” Barnstable Patriot, 15 March 1892, 2; inscription in Catechism of the Methodist Episcopal Church (New York: Phillips and Hunt, 1880), in the Sandwich Glass Museum Library, Rebecca Burgess Book Collection; Interview with Jerry Ellis, Bourne Historical Commissioner. 50. 27 June 1863, G. 51. 11 June 1864, G. 52. 24 September 1867, G; 11 April 1867, G; 10 May 1857, G. 53. Page in F. 54. All clippings can be found in F; Information on Hanaford on 4 January 1864, F. Rebecca never provided a recounting of the possible falling out between the two women, but later in her life she noted that Hanaford had become a Unitarian minister and that she sincerely hoped Hanaford would see the light and repent. On 17 December 1866 Rebecca wrote: Yesterday I suppose Mrs. Hanaford commenced her Pastoral duties. It all seems so strange—when a few months since she was a firm Baptist. In a letter last March she spoke of her change of views and that she had taken the editorial charge of the U. publications. I have no idea how she could make her conscience tally with Universalism. I hope after having “preached to others, she herself may not become a castaway.”

This is beneath a clipping dated 15 December 1866 in G. 55. Martha Hassell explains it in this way, with no detail, in The Challenge of Hannah Rebecca. 56. It was not unusual for New England Victorian women to remain single. In New Bedford, just across the bay from Sandwich, 70 percent of widowers remarried, but only 17 percent of widows did. By 1850 there were about twenty thousand “surplus” women in New England, which resulted in fewer women marrying at all. With so many men at sea, and others going to California during the gold rush or moving West to new farmland, many New England women would not have had the chance to marry, even if they desired remarriage. See Norling, Captain Ahab Had a Wife, 195; Lee Virginia Chambers-Schiller, Liberty a Better Husband, 29.

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57. Chambers-Schiller, Liberty a Better Husband, 31–35. 58. Richard Miller, “For His Wife, His Widow, and His Orphan,” 23. 59. “1857 Expenses,” “Duplicate of Account, Estate of W. H. B., 1856,” “Memorandum of Instruments,” all in E. 60. “8 March 1857,” “1 April 1857,” “1 May 1857,” E. 61. “August 1857,” “Duplicate of Letter Messrs. Crosby & Co.,” 19 March 1857, “Memorandum of Instruments,” E. 62. “Received this month August,” 1857, “October 1857,” E. 63. 10 May 1858, E; Economic History Series website (accessed 3 August 2009). 64. 10 November 1852, B. 65. Carole Shammas et. al., Inheritance in America, 100–101. 66. Paul Crowell Jr., Will No. 5664 19-46, Barnstable County Courthouse, Mass.; Lydia Crowell Will No. 10624 4-256, Barnstable County Courthouse, Mass. In none of her account registries does she mention paying for food or housing expenses, except when on trips. 67. 14 May 1857, E; Lebsock, Free Women of Petersburg, 128–29. 68. “Copy of Notes Due Mrs. H. R. Burgess,” 1858, E. 69. “1861 List of Notes Belonging to H. R. B. and at her disposal,” “1861 Deposit of Interest on the same,” “Memoranda of Expenses During the Year 1861.” 70. “Expenses/Received During February 1861.” 71. 1859 “Received During December,” “Income Statements,” August–December 1859, E. 72. “1860 Expenses,” E. 73. “Received During March,” 1859, E. 74. “May 1860 Received,” “June Accounts,” “July Accounts,” E. 75. Lebsock poses this question in Free Women of Petersburg, 128–29. 76. Rebecca took advantage of the new corporate world that emerged in the late nineteenth century. Fueled by new technology such as electricity and telephones, as well as operational innovations like the emergence of the modern assembly line, large national corporations emerged as major players in the American economy. Late-nineteenthcentury America saw the decline of the small family-owned company and the growth of huge vertically or horizontally integrated corporations. Great entrepreneurs like Andrew Carnegie, who utilized the latest processing technologies to create his steel empire, and John D. Rockefeller, who created the first holding corporation with Standard Oil Company, became the powerful men of the newly defined “Gilded Age” society. They amassed fortunes through speculation and innovation. See Allen Trachtenberg, The Incorporation of America, 51–56; Walter Licht, Industrializing America, 133–66. 77. Paul Crowell Jr., Will No. 5664 19-46, Barnstable County Courthouse, Mass.; Lydia Crowell Will No. 10624 4-256, Barnstable County Courthouse, Mass. Dorothy and Carl J. Schneider, American Women in the Progressive Era, 59. 78. Hannah Rebecca Burgess Will No. 18186 8-562, Barnstable County Courthouse. 79. Asa Edgerly, He Did It, 31–32. 80. Licht, Industrializing America, 143–44; Swift & Co., The Meatpacking Industry in America; Louis Franklin Swift, The Yankee of the Yards. 81. For more information about the concept of personalism in business, see Lebsock, Free Women of Petersburg, 116–19, 126–27.

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82. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 18 August 1896, 1. 83. Hannah Rebecca Burgess Will, Bourne Tax Valuation Lists, Bourne Historical Commission. 84. Lisa Waciega, “A ‘Man of Business,’” 42, 56–59. 85. “Mrs. H. Rebecca Burgess,” Sandwich Independent, 21 June 1817, 5.

Chapter 7. From Legac y to Le ge nd 1. All from G. 2. 11 December 1864, C. 3. 16 November 1864, G. 4. 17 November 1864, G. 5. Copy of Letter, Rebecca Burgess to R. H. Dana, 21 November 1864, G. 6. Copy of Letter, R. H. Dana to Rebecca Burgess, 24 November 1864, G; 31 November 1864, G. 7. Copy of Letter, William Dolan to R. H. Dana, 11 March 1864, G. 8. Richard Henry Dana, Two Years Before the Mast, 3–4. 9. 5 December 1864, G; clippings in G, undated; 30 November 1864, 31 July 1866, G. 10. Clipping, Mexico Independent reprint, G. 11. H. R. B., “In Memoriam,” Barnstable Patriot, 9 April 1861, clipping in F. 12. Ibid. 13. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 6 March 1900, 6. 14. Ibid., 29 May 1900, 4. 15. “Sagamore,” Bourne Pioneer, 6 September 1898, 3. 16. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 29 January 1911, 8. 17. Ibid., 7 March 1912, 2; 17 April 1914, 6. 18. “Sagamore,” Bourne Pioneer, 12 January 1897, 3. 19. Rebecca Burgess, “History of the Ship’s Log Book.” 20. Ibid. 21. Undated postcards, Rebecca Burgess Collection, Bourne Historic Commission. 22. Rebecca Burgess, “History of the Ship’s Log Book.” 23. Ibid. 24. Ibid. 25. Ibid. 26. Ibid. 27. Ibid. 28. Ibid. 29. Hannah Rebecca Burgess Will No. 18186 8-562, Barnstable County Courthouse, Economic History Services Website, http://www.eh.net (accessed 3 August 2009). 30. Economic History Services, Rebecca Burgess Will. 31. Rebecca Burgess Will. 32. Ibid. 33. Ibid. 34. Rebecca Burgess, Will Addition, undated, Folder 1, Rebecca Burgess Collection. 35. Ibid.

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36. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Observer, 13 February 1894, 3; “Sagamore,” Bourne Pioneer, 27 March 1897, 3; 12 January 1897, 3; 14 March 1899, 3; 8 June 1897, 3. The following from these articles: “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 12 February 1909, 6; 14 January 1910, 1; 30 March 1911, 1; 1 January 1915, 1; 18 March 1910, 4; 14 March 1912, 3. 37. Susan Mann, “Gardening as ‘Woman’s Culture,’” 34–38. 38. “Sagamore,” Bourne Patriot, 6 September 1898, 3. Other columns mentioning her flowers are the following, all in the “Sagamore” column of the Bourne Patriot: 11 March 1893, 2; 16 April 1895, 2; 9 March 1897, 3. These continue through the 1900s, and the last record is “Sagamore,” Bourne Independent, 9 April 1915, 3. 39. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 4 August 1896, 1. 40. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 22 September 1886, 1; “Sagamore,” Bourne Pioneer, 24 October 1893, 2; “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 28 July 1896, 1. 41. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 2 April 1908, 8; 7 May 1908, 6. 42. I have no idea why Rebecca stopped inscribing in her journal. Perhaps between her teaching Sunday School, fund-raising for the church, speaking to school groups, and maintaining her garden, she found less time to write. Perhaps she was simply slowing down, and as she got older, her activities left her too tired to write in her journals. Maybe she felt that her legacy was secured when she read of herself in the newspapers, and so she stopped crafting a story with herself at the center. Or perhaps her illnesses were hampering her efforts to write. We will never know, of course, just as we will never know if she actually did keep a journal from this time but failed to donate it, or chose not to. 43. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 29 December 1910, 8. 44. “Hannah Rebecca Burgess,” Sandwich Independent, 21 June 1917, clipping in Genealogy File, Town Records, Sandwich Historical Center, Sandwich Public Library. 45. Alice Gibbs, “‘Aunt Rebecca’ Still Fondly Remembered,” Enterprise, 22 October 1984, clipping, Bourne Historic Commission. 46. “Captain in His Coffin,” Your Weekly Guide to Cape Cod, n.d., clipping at the Bourne Historic Commission, Rebecca Burgess Collection. 47. Henry Kittredge, Shipmasters of Cape Cod, 173; Snow, Women of the Sea, 141, 143–44; Springer, “The Captain’s Wife at Sea,” 98–99; Julia Bonham, “Feminist and Victorian,” 204–5; DePauw, Seafaring Women, 197–99; Donal Baird, Women at Sea, 27–28; Coogan, Sail Away Ladies; Hassell, The Challenge of Hannah Rebecca. 48. Katherine Crosby, Blue Water Men, 27. 49. Alice Gibbs, “‘Aunt Rebecca’ Still Fondly Remembered.” 50. Lovell, Sandwich, 312. 51. “Rooms with a Ghoul,” Cape Cod Times, 29 October 2004, C-3. 52. Several factors led to the demise of the dominant traditional occupations in the village. First, the continued railroad transportation started to eclipse the packet ship system that employed many people in Sandwich. In addition, the Civil War had caused a decline in the shipping industry. Many ship owners registered their ships in foreign countries so that they could sail under a neutral flag and protect their cargo. Others sold off ships because of the disruption in trade along the East Coast. After the war anyone who had registered a ship in a neutral port was not allowed to re-register back in the United States. This caused a large decline in the U.S. Merchant Marine Fleet, which affected the entire coast. In addition, the rise in shipbuilding costs, combined with the British taking advantage of the problems with American shipping, led to a decline in the maritime industry.

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By 1865 the United States carried only 32.2 percent of its products in its own ships. Prior to the Civil War, American ships carried somewhat over half the U.S. merchandise. In addition to the disruptions caused by the Civil War, the American shipping industry lost ground to passenger steamer transport, and ultimately, by the late nineteenth century, the age of the sailing ship came to a close as steamers began to transport the majority of cargo. American shipping continued its steady decline in the post–Civil War era, until, by the end of the century, foreign vessels carried 90 percent of American cargo. America had lost its strong presence on the seas. Rebecca herself made note of this in her last letter, which mentioned that she had sailed in the age of American maritime supremacy, when “stars and stripes sailed in every port.” Rebecca understood that this era was long gone, and she capitalized on her image by linking it to the great American nautical past. Information from Lovell, Sandwich, 315; Andrew Gibson and Arthur Donovan, The Abandoned Ocean, 69, 72; Robert Albion et. al., New England and the Sea, 162, 175–81, 191; Benjamin Larabee et. al., America and the Sea, 8; History of the Ship’s log book. 53. U.S. Census reports available at http:\\www.ancestry.com (accessed 3 August 2009). The 1890 census report was destroyed in a fire, and only pieces of it remained intact. Massachusetts was not one of the surviving records. As Sandwich and its surrounding villages lost their connection to the worldwide maritime trade, the town also saw its dominant industry falter and fail. The glass industry that had brought in so many immigrants, employed hundreds, and changed the face of the predominantly rural area could not keep up with the competition from the Midwest. The glass industry in Sandwich faced its first challenge when Deming Jarves, the original glass industrialist, resigned from the Boston and Sandwich Glass Company in 1858 to start a new venture, the Cape Cod Glass Company. This competition, along with a fire that destroyed the B & S Glass Company’s Boston showroom, provided challenges for the original company. In addition, increasing competition from the Midwest caused these Sandwich industries to falter. The abundant coal and natural gas stores in western Pennsylvania enabled glass manufacturers from the area to undercut prices and flood the market. By 1885, the Pittsburgh and Ohio regions of the Glass Manufacturer’s Association produced 75 percent of America’s glass tableware. The increasing competition caused Jarves to close his Cape Cod Glass Works in April 1869. Soon after, the Panic and Depression of 1873 hit the B & S company hard, and in 1887 a fire in Bourne consumed more than twenty-five thousand acres of woodland, including much of the company’s fuel stores. The estimated loss to the company was $22,841, which 2008 consumer price indexes equate to more than $500,000 (equivalent prices and costs are available at the Economic History Services Website, http://www. eh.net.hmit/ [accessed 3 August 2009]). Lovell, Sandwich, 381, 383–84, 389; Raymond Barlow and Joan Kaiser, The Glass Industry in Sandwich, xiv, 8. A growing sense of worker unrest also added to the crisis at the glass manufactory, because workers at the Midwestern companies unionized and fought for higher wages to match those the Midwestern companies could pay. In 1885 the B & S workers joined other glass factory operatives in a regionwide glass strike that engulfed the entire East Coast. The Sandwich Observer registered fear that the owners would shut down the factory over the matter. The editor wrote: “The shutting down of the factory will be a tremendous detriment to the town of Sandwich,” and would lead to closed stores, empty homes, and unemployed workers. This strike ended, but it would not be the last problem. (“Affairs at Sandwich Glass Works,” Sandwich Observer, 20 October 1885, 2; “Sandwich Home Briefs,” Sandwich Observer, 17

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November 1885, 2). This loss added to the company’s financial distress. Workers threatened to strike again several years later, and the owners did not respond so positively this time. Although B & S had $500,000 worth of orders in 1888, corporate executives estimated that the cost of meeting those orders would be about $515,000. In the early spring of that same year, the company owners sent eviction notices to the residents of “Jarvesville” and closed the factory doors. Finally, the factory liquidated its assets in 1889 (Lovell, Sandwich, 385; Barlow and Kaiser, The Glass Industry in Sandwich, 17–18). The demise of its major industry hit the town hard. First of all, the glass industry had completely dominated the economy of Sandwich. It had supplanted agricultural and maritime industries as the major source of income. Second, the factory had brought in immigrants who lived in the company village. The closing of the factory led to tremendous social dislocation in the town center. Census data from the period reflect the serious change that occurred in the town. In 1860 Sandwich listed 452 foreigners among its 3,684 residents, which comprised 12 percent of the population; of those foreigners, 356 were Irish. A total of 257 residents worked in the glass industry at that time, and 166 worked as laborers who were probably attached in some way to the glass industry. By 1870 the number of immigrants to the area dropped to 172, 127 of whom were from Ireland. This percentage represented 4 percent of the total population. At this point almost 7 percent of the residents labored in the glass industry. By 1880 the town saw its immigration increase again to 278, of which 184 were from Ireland. But only 4 percent of town residents worked for the glass industry, although almost 5 percent of the residents listed themselves as laborers, many of whom may have been affiliated. Clearly the glass industry greatly affected the town, and its loss meant economic distress for many of the town residents, as well as a loss of identity for the area (U.S. Census Reports, available at http:\\www.ancestry.com). 54. “West Sandwich,” Seaside Press, 15 July 1876, 2. 55. The growth of Keith and Sons had a dramatic effect on Rebecca’s village. In the 1870 census only 6 residents reported working in the car manufactory. From 1870 to 1910, however, the company had grown astronomically. By 1880 West Sandwich reported 22 laborers and 14 car manufactory workers. In the neighboring villages of Monument, North Sandwich, and Pocasset, 71 men worked in iron foundries that supplied the car factory. By 1910 the car manufactory employed 291 workers, and another 145 laborers lived in the town of Bourne. These occupational categories represented almost 18 percent of the total population. At this point industrial jobs outstripped the pace of farming at an alarming rate. In 1880, 140 farmers lived and worked in Sandwich and its surrounding villages, representing almost 4 percent of the total population. They were concentrated mainly in East Sandwich and the villages to the west that would incorporate as the town of Bourne. Fourteen farmers lived in West Sandwich, which represented 5 percent of its population. By 1900 only a small portion of Bourne’s residents were farmers. In 1900, 39 of Bourne’s residents claimed agriculture as their occupation, which represented only 2 percent of the population, and 38 reported farming as their profession in 1910, reflecting only .15 percent of the town’s population. Most of these residents were cranberry or truck farmers. Other residents in the twentieth century worked as carpenters and boatbuilders, in domestic service, as retail workers or owners, and on the railroad (“West Sandwich,” Seaside Press, 22 November 1879, 2; obituary clipping, Isaac Keith, undated, Keith Car and Manufactur-

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ing Company Box, Bourne Archives; Andrea Leonard, “From Gold Rush to Depression,” 58; U.S. Census Reports available at http:\\www.ancestry.com). 56. The issue of where West Sandwich should go made the town division issue a particularly nasty one, and, according to Bourne officials, “the council for the remonstrants made violent opposition to the proposed bill, fighting against the line including West Sandwich within the limits of the new town.” The leaders of this movement reasoned that the villages west of Sandwich had little in common with the town center. These men represented a wide variety of interests in the villages west of Sandwich. Some were farmers, others blacksmiths and artisans, and, in Rebecca’s village, car manufactory owner Isaac Keith led the charge to disaffiliate from Sandwich (Lovell, Sandwich, 372–73). They argued: “With an area of fifty thousand acres; with villages so widely separated; with interests so entirely dissimilar; with little or no communion between the people of the remote parts; with local questions constantly arising, the source of irritation and trouble, it seems strange that the town could have continued so long as originally defined.” In fact, the leaders stood accused by Sandwich residents of trying to split all the “persons of wealth” apart from the city center, and that the move showed how much they “despise[d] the hard-handed laborers over here in Sandwich village.” However, leaders of the incorporation movement claimed that the desire to separate did not originate with the characters residing in the town center but rather with the divergent trades pursued by the western villages. In fact, leaders drew upon what was, at that time, their declining maritime heritage to justify the split. Their lawyer argued: “this is a contest between the hard-working men following the sea—following their pursuits along the shore—and the people residing in the old town.” He said that while the proposed town was not a refuge for the wealthy, “the people living on Buzzard’s Bay and the people living in the old town are as separate and distinct as any two peoples can well be” (“Town Report of Bourne,” 15, 26–28). Notably, however, the bulk of immigrants to the area resided outside the incorporation limits, and when the town did split off, the only remaining churches within the new town limits were a Baptist Church, a community church, and two Methodist churches. This is a distinctly different religious landscape than what a visitor to Sandwich at the time would have seen, which included Catholic, Episcopal, Methodist, and Congregational churches, and a Quaker meetinghouse (census reports at http://www.ancestry.com [accessed 3 August 2009]). Church activities were listed in local newspaper reports, but the only ones listed were at M. E. Churches. For information on the churches in Sandwich, see Lovell, Sandwich. The lawyer’s argument focused on the villages southwest of Sandwich that bordered Buzzard’s Bay, but what about West Sandwich, which sat on Cape Cod Bay and was geographically much closer to the town center than to the villages wanting to secede from Sandwich? Isaac Keith helped lead the fight for division, but many in West Sandwich did not want the split. In fact, the village divided over separation, and Noble Swift, Calvin Crowell, and H. G. O. Ellis testified in court against the division of West Sandwich from its city center. Given that these citizens were either Rebecca’s close friends or family, it is likely that she, too, would have disagreed with the split, which would have placed the town center further away from the village (“Town Report of Bourne,” 8, 12, 13). While the Massachusetts legislature debated the merits of splitting up Sandwich, residents of the city center held public meetings to denounce the bill and, in particular, the separation of West Sandwich from the town center. Advocates of incorporating West

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Sandwich into the new town argued: “West Sandwich and North Sandwich are inseparable; they are connected together by various things, their social relations are pretty intimate, and there is very little society between the West Sandwich people and the people of the old town.” According to this argument, North Sandwich residents attended Rebecca’s church, its foundry supplied the car works, and its kin connections reached out through both villages (ibid., 15, 23). Ultimately Keith and his allies won the fight, and West Sandwich fell within the new town limits. The town named itself Bourne, after a former resident who had become an extremely wealthy whale-ship owner in New Bedford, and West Sandwich became known as Sagamore. Bourne was wealthier than Sandwich, with a tax valuation of more than $820,800. On the other hand, Sandwich’s cumulative tax valuation was only $786,550, and it appeared to be in a state of economic decline once the glass industry faltered. Bourne boasted the car works, other shops, including two boat-building enterprises, a lumber yard, two foundries, and eight schools (ibid., 16; Lovell, Sandwich, 375). 57. Businessmen had discussed building a canal through the Cape Cod peninsula; potential builders formulated plans as early as the colonial period. Plans began in earnest when Alpheus Hardy created the Cape Cod Canal Company in 1870 and received permission from the state legislature to build the canal. Hardy did not get very far, and in 1880 Massachusetts granted the charter to Henry Whitey’s Cape Cod Canal Company. That year 112 Italian immigrants from New York City started to dig the canal, right down the center of Sagamore. Within four months, between 500 and 600 Italian workers moved to the area. They lived in tents near the canal, and when the money ran out, they marched on the canal office, causing general panic and bringing out the town’s police force. Locals called this the “Neopolitan Revolt,” and groups raised money to send the workers back to New York by train. Construction began again in earnest in 1907, when August Belmont of the Boston, Cape Cod, and New York Canal Company started taking bids on contractors. That year the chief engineer symbolically began the building when he scooped up a shovel of dirt near Sagamore (Robert Farson, The Cape Cod Canal, 20–21, 22, 33–34). 58. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Observer, 20 April 1886, 3; “Bourne,” Sandwich Observer, 2 February 1887, 2; “Cape Cod Canal Project Killed in the Legislature,” Bourne Pioneer, 6 April 1897, 2; “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 1 March 1898, 1. 59. “Cape Cod and Cape Cod Canal,” Bourne Pioneer, 6 December 1898, 2. Even the specter of the canal appeared to depress real estate ventures in the area. The Bourne Pioneer reported on the problems caused by the rumors of the canal in 1899. Two Boston men had scouted the Sagamore area looking for a site to build summer cottages. The newspaper noted: “But, the same obstacle prevented them from building here that has stood in the way of others. The CCC [Cape Cod Canal] bee is still buzzing” (“Sagamore,” Bourne Pioneer, 11 July 1899, 3). 60. In 1885 Bourne was quite homogeneous. It had four Protestant churches and few immigrants. But by 1900 Bourne went through the same changes Sandwich had experienced in the mid-nineteenth century. In fact, Bourne experienced an influx of immigrants that was proportionally higher than that of Sandwich in the nineteenth century. In 1900 Bourne’s census reported 138 immigrants. The homelands of these immigrants varied greatly, but the majority came from Portugal (37), Canada (35), Ireland (22), and England (19). These migrants took diverse jobs throughout the region, although the Portuguese

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tended to work as day laborers, the Canadians boasted four carpenters in the group, and the Irish provided fourteen of the domestic laborers for the town. Many of these immigrants were actually the wives of native-born men. By 1910, however, the landscape changed dramatically. Of 2,474 people living in the town, 498 had migrated from overseas (census reports, 1900 and 1910, at http://www.ancestry.com (accessed 3 August 2009). A visitor to the town would have found 266 Italians, 76 Canadians, 49 Portuguese, 30 Finns, 34 Britons and Scots, 12 Swedes, 14 Irish, and various immigrants from other areas, including Spain, Greece, Denmark, and France. The greatest change in immigration patterns was the influx of Italians from southern Europe. These immigrants came to work primarily in the car works industry; in fact, of the 291 factory workers in 1910, almost 60 percent were Italian. The Italian immigrants provided much of the hard labor in the factory, whereas Americans, Britons, and Canadians occupied the administrative positions in the plant. The Portuguese performed much of the day labor in the area, and the Britons and Canadians were spread throughout many professions, including domestic service, carpentry, printing, painting, and day labor (ibid.) The changes taking place in Bourne mirrored the changes occurring in American society by the turn of the century. In the last half of the nineteenth century 14 million immigrants came to America. In the early 1900s about 1 million immigrants moved to the United States every year. These immigrants came largely from central, eastern, and southern Europe, and they generally moved to ethnic neighborhoods. Many in America were extremely troubled about the influx of immigrants and worked to regulate the number of immigrants coming to America, as well as to discriminate against those who came to the land. The post–Civil War nativist trend culminated in the twentieth century with the Emergency Quota Act of 1921, which restricted immigration to 3 percent of the people from that country living in America in 1910. This caused a significant drop in the number of Italians and Eastern Europeans who migrated to this country. See Thomas C. Reeves, Twentieth-Century America, 4–5, 91; John Higham, Strangers in the Land; Roger Daniels, Coming to America. 61. “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 27 February 1908, 6. 62. Dona Brown, Inventing New England, 9. 63. Joseph A. Conforti, Imagining New England, 130, 204–21. 64. “Bourne,” Sandwich Observer, 18 June 1884, 3; 1910 Census (http://www.ancestry. com [accessed 3 August 2009]); “West Sandwich,” Seaside Press, 2 August 1879, 2; “The Sagamore Beach Idea,” Sandwich Independent, 23 April 1908, 1, 4; “Sagamore,” Sandwich Independent, 9 April 1915, 3. The landscape of the town had changed, and by 1910 the business of the town had shifted as well. The maritime trade had all but disappeared, farmers were a small proportion of the population, and many more people worked in the service industry. By 1910 Bourne had more than 51 dealers/retailers, who employed 39 clerks, milliners, and dressmakers. Carpenters, painters, contractors, and the 145 laborers focused on the home building industry. There were 22 boarding-house keepers who housed many of the workers in the area. There were 93 domestic workers: chauffers, cooks, maids, and gardeners. The census found that caretakers and managers took care of property, and

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people worked in local transport services. Several dozen men worked on the railroads, and 19 people worked in the civil service, mostly in the post office. Telegraph and telephone operators kept Bourne in touch with the rest of the world. Bourne was a changed town, and Sagamore changed along with it. Sagamore’s key industries were now the car works and the tourist industry. Gone were the days of sea captains and farmers, although 38 farmers remained holdouts in the area, mostly by working cranberry bogs and truck farms (1910 census report).

C onclusion 1. For more information about the many projects undertaken by the United Daughters of the Confederacy, see Karen Cox, Dixie’s Daughters. 2. For more information, see Joseph Conforti, Imagining New England; and Dona Brown, Inventing New England. 3. James Lindgen, “‘Virginia Needs Living Heroes,’” 11. For an in-depth discussion of the ways in which American women’s history and museum history are tied, see Edith P. Mayo, “Women’s History and Public History.” For information about Elizabeth Custer and her crafting of her husband’s legacy, see Shirley Leckie, Elizabeth Bacon Custer. 4. Pierre Nora, “Between Memory and History,” 15. 5. Julie Des Jardines, Women and the Historical Enterprise in America, 1–8, 17. 6. Samuel Eliot Morison, Maritime History of Massachusetts, 370–71.

Appendix 1. 22 August 1852, A. 2. Ibid. 3. Ibid. 4. Rebecca’s Log of the Whirlwind, San Francisco to Callao 5. All taken from the Challenger journal (C). 6. All from C. 7. Rebecca Burgess, “History of the Ship’s Log Book,” undated, Folder 1, Box 1, Rebecca Burgess Collection, Sandwich Glass Museum.

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Works Cited

Manuscript Collections B ourne Historical Commission Log of the Whirlwind Rebecca Burgess Collection Tax Valuation Records, Town of Bourne

Sandwich Gl ass Museum and Historical So ciet y Flowers in Frolic Rebecca Burgess Book Collection, Attic Library Rebecca Burgess Collection (1 box) Rebecca Burgess Journal Collection A–H

Sandwich Town Archives and Historical Center, Sandwich Public Library Bourne Archives Crowell Genealogy File Jonathan Bourne Public Library, Bourne Keith Car and Manufacturing Company (1 Box) Nickerson Room, Cape Cod Community College Tax Valuation Records Town Reports of Bourne, 1884–1900 U.S. Bureau of the Census U.S. Census Reports. 1820. Database available at http:\\www.ancestry.com. Provo, Utah: MyFamily.com, Inc., 2004. Original data: 1840 U.S. Federal Census. 1820 Roll M33_47, Sandwich. National Archives and Records Administration, Washington, D.C. ———. 1830. Database available at http:\\www.ancestry.com. Provo, Utah: MyFamily.com, Inc., 2004. Original data: 1840 U.S. Federal Census. 1830 Roll 60, Sandwich. National Archives and Records Administration Washington, D.C. ———.1840. Database available at http:\\www.ancestry.com. Provo, Utah: MyFamily.com, Inc., 2004. Original data: 1840 U.S. Federal Census. 1840 Roll 60, Sandwich. National Archives and Records Administration, Washington, D.C.

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Index

Abrams, Naomi, 230n5 African American sailors, 225n29 Alcott, Louisa May, 151 Alton, A., 133 Ambrotype of William, 120–21, 122 Anglo superiority, 226n48 Anniversary of death entries, 111, 200–201 Aphoristic memory, 118 Autobiography: authenticity in, 2–4, 212n6; identity/culture and, 4, 212n11; memory and, 6–7, 116, 228n18; private vs. public works of, 211n4; public diaries and, 3–4; Victorian practices in, 2; women writers regarding, 2, 3–4, 211n3, 212n8 Autograph journal. See Flowers in Frolic Badger, Walter, 23 Baird, Daniel, 178 Banks, 155–56 Barber, Harriot Buxton, 217n15 Barnstable Patriot (newspaper), 136; “In Memoriam” published in, 164 Bartlett, George, 105, 154 Beecher, Henry Ward, 54, 149 Belmont, August, 182, 239n57 Bible: Dana letter regarding, 159; donation of, 174; “History of the Ship’s Log Book” and, 209; photo of, 162; poem written about, 163; return of, 160, 163; stories regarding, 163–64 Billy (King Charles spaniel), 115 Black Jacks (Bolster), 219n16 Blue Water Men and Other Cape Codders (Crosby), 179 Bogota (ship), 125 Bolster, Jeffrey, 87, 219n16, 225n29

Bonham, Julia, 178, 222n36 Boston Daily Journal (newspaper), 163 Bourne: canal project affecting, 182–83, 239n57; creation of, 182, 237n56; immigration and, 183, 239n60; mariners living in, 190 Bourne, Lucy, 131, 141, 143, 229n3 Bourne Historical Commission, 81 Bourne Patriot (newspaper), 147 Bourne Pioneer (newspaper), 166 Brigham’s Saloon, 33 Brown, Gillian: domestic femininity and, 20; public/private spaces and, 212n12 Bunkers, Suzanne, 211n4 Burgess, Benjamin: background on, 23–24; William’s generosity toward, 33 Burgess, Rebecca. See specific topic Burgess, William: ambrotype of, 120–21, 122; body/belongings of, 114–16, 199; California trip letter from, 49, 50; care for wife at sea by, 67–68; as care-worn, 36–37; character sketch of, 31–37; courtship with, 23–25; death of, 108–9, 171–72, 204, 207; departure to sea of, 45–47; dress purchase by, 35; dysentery and, 106–7; early maritime career of, 24; entertainment and, 33; ferry seasickness incident regarding, 34; final moments of, 209–10; foreshadowing regarding, 117–18, 119; funerals for, 114–15, 199, 205–6; generosity of, 33–34, 35; gold rings vow and, 45, 46, 179, 210; Herbert and, 31; illness of, 83, 105, 106–8, 198, 227n69; imperious behavior of, 70; as impetuous/energetic, 31–32;

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Burgess, William (continued): “I’m Thine Alone Rebecca” by, 27, 49; Journal A remarks by, 193; Journal C entries by, 93–94, 103; letter to Freeman, 92–93; letter to Rebecca, 103; marriage of, 28; mat made by, 192; mercury and, 105, 227n69; ministrations to sick wife by, 34–35; moods of, 32, 36–37, 69, 70; mourning conversation about, 125–26; patience/acceptance regarding, 70–71; poems of, 24–25; profane language and, 72; as provider, 35–36; as racist, 225n29; on reunion, 53; sailor persona of, 32–33; shopping excursion and, 37; spiritual presence of, 123–24, 126; weather issues affecting, 93–94; wife as moral arbiter for, 41–43; will of, 45–46, 153, 157; writing style of, 49–50 Burgess and Ellis shipbuilders, 19, 218n16 Business: turn-of-the-century, 240n64; Victorian women and, 156; widowhood and, 157; woman persona, 134–35, 150–58, 229n4 Cabins, clipper ship, 59–60 Calla lily, 165 Canton, 99–100 Cape Cod Canal project, 181–82, 239n57, 239n59 Cape Cod Railroad, 217n13 Cape Horn, 59, 193 “Captain in His Coffin” (Your Weekly Guide to Cape Cod), 178 Captains: owners and, 94, 225n29; responsibilities of, 94, 226n31 Captain’s widow persona, 157–58, 165 “The Captain’s Wife at Sea” (Springer), 178, 222n16 Captain’s wives: background of most, 60; care for, 67–68, 222n36; crew relations, 76–78, 224n72; maritime sense of self and, 76; social isolation of, 63–64, 222n16; speaking up and, 226n52; veracity of journal writing by, 223n40; Victorian/feminist mixing in, 81, 224n82 Carnegie, Andrew, 233n76

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Census data, 17, 180–81, 189–90, 217n14, 236n53, 237n55 The Challenge of Hannah Rebecca (Hassell), 179 Challenger (clipper ship): as cursed, 84; legend of saving, 166–72; painting of, 84, 114; veracity of stories about, 9, 175 Challenger journal. See Journal C Character sketch: of Rebecca, 37–41; of William, 31–37 Charity. See Philanthropy China, 99–100, 166, 167–68, 198, 226n48 Chincha Islands, 81, 105, 107, 227n65 Chinese shoe, 174 Chipman, Charles, 135 Chowder dinner fundraiser, 146–47 Christian: community, 140–42, 231n28; instruction, 41–43 Church: attendance, 54; bell fundraiser, 147; identity regarding, 144–49, 176; philanthropy, 144–49; positions held in, 175–76 Church leader persona, 176 City men, 40–41 Civil War: identity surrounding, 137; journal entries regarding, 136–37; maritime shipping affected by, 235n52; philosophical debates on, 230n12; Sandwich volunteers and, 135–36; Victorian views of, 136, 230n12; women volunteers and, 136 Class evolution, 216n11. See also Middle class Clipper ships: cabins on, 59–60; captain’s wives on, 60, 63–64, 222n16; Morison describing, 188; risks of sailing on, 59, 222n7; sizes of, 59; speed of, 58 Cobb, Larry, 138 Cogan, Francis B., 213n13 Commemoration, 187 Communal memories, 7–8, 214n24 Community: Christian, 140–42, 231n28; church positions held, 175–76; fundraising for, 176; gardening appreciated in, 176; identity, 139–42; industrialization impacting, 180–83; maritime heritage and, 180; New England, 14–15, 215n9; support while ill, 177

“Compounding Differences” (Hewitt), 230n5 Connell, Mary, 142–43 Control issues at sea, 73–75, 223n58 Conversion narratives: Connell, 142–43; friends/family, 143–44; Methodist, 143; motivations of, 144; at sea, 69–73; Victorian, 20; for William, 41–43, 69–73 Coogan, Jim, 178 Cooper, James Fennimore, 33, 219n16 Cooper, Joanne, 228n3 Cora (cousin), 120 Corporate world, 233n76 Courtship, 23–25 Cox, Gresham, 114 Crafting of identity, 185–88 Crosby, Katherine, 179 Crowell, Calvin, 12, 237n56 Crowell, Hepsah, 120 Crowell, Lydia, 13, 14; conversation about William and, 125, 126; shopping excursion and, 37 Crowell, Paul, Jr., 13, 156; background of, 14; elected as school agent, 21; financial holdings of, 17–18 Crowell, Paul, Sr., 13 Crowell, Tommie, 141 Crowell family: genealogy of, 13; as large family, 13–14; occupations, 17; West Sandwich and, 18–19 Culley, Margo, 112 Cult of true womanhood, 4–6; adherence to, 5–6, 213nn14–15, 214n17; crossing boundaries of, 5–6, 213n15, 214n17; ideology of, 4–5; mourning and, 5, 214n16; public/private spaces and, 5, 212n12, 213n13; reality vs. perception and, 5, 213n13; Victorian values and, 20–22 Curtis, George, 43–44 Curtis, James, 38 Custer, Elizabeth Armstrong, 187 Cutler, Carl, 70 Dana, Richard Henry, 32–33, 209, 219n16; bible letter to Boston Daily Journal, 159; correspondence with, 163; “A Possible Relic of Shipwreck” by, 160

Davis, Jefferson, 137 Death: anniversary entries, 111, 200–201; desire, 114; dysentery and, 100, 101, 102; finances impacted by, 151–52; Folger’s, 86–88; foreshadowing of, 117–18, 119; identity impacted by, 124; Morgan’s, 98–99; O’Niel’s, 100–101; at sea, 86–87, 115–16; of William, 108–9, 171–72, 204, 207. See also Mortality DePauw, Linda Grant, 178, 226n52 Depression, 90–92 Diaries. See Journal writing Dillingham, Mr. (friend of William’s), 36 Dillingham, Mrs., 39 Dolan, William, 159 Domestic femininity, 20 Druett, Joan, 87, 226n52 Dysentery: sailors afflicted by, 100, 101, 102, 103; William’s, 106–7 Eakin, John Paul, 212n6 Ear trumpet, 174 Edgerly, Asa, 137, 138 Edgerly, Lizzie, 28, 74, 131, 137–39 Education: navigation, 75, 192; Victorian, 21–22 Ellis, Hannah, 20 Ellis, H. G. O., 237n56 Ellis, Nathaniel, 120, 200 Ellis, Sarah, 136 Ellis family background, 13–14 Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 149 England, 105 Estate settlement, William’s, 151–53 Faith: prayer and, 65–66; ties to home and, 66–67 Family(ies): conversion narratives and, 143–44; Crowell, 13–14, 17–19; Ellis/ Harlow, 13–14; finances and, 154–55; photograph, 140; Swift, 156; tradition and, 15; Yarmouth Camp Meetings and, 141–42 Feminism, 20, 81, 178, 224n82 “Feminist and Victorian” (Bonham), 178 Fictive self, 212n6

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257

Finances: corporate world and, 233n76; of Crowell, Paul, Jr., 17–18; family regarding, 154–55; food/housing, 153, 233n66; inheritance and, 153; investments and, 155–57; Journal E example of, 134; loans and, 150, 153–54; management of, 154; nautical equipment sales/rentals and, 152, 153–54; personalism in, 156; portfolio diversification and, 155–56; private ledger revealing, 150; Rebecca’s will/taxes and, 157; silence regarding, 157–58; single women and, 151; Swift & Co. shares and, 156–57; traveling home, 151; William’s death impacting, 151–52; William’s estate settlement and, 151–53; William’s will and, 153 Financial ledger. See Journal E Flowers, 130–31 Flowers in Frolic (autograph journal): contents of, 12; geographic location reflected in, 19; intent of donation of, 12–13, 23; mortality regarding, 22–23, 218n28, 219n30; purpose of, 12, 214n2; selections from, 11; Victorian upbringing and, 13; Victorian values and, 20–21; William’s poems in, 24–25 Flying Cloud (clipper ship), 58 Folger (sailor), 86–88 Foremast bow incident, 74–75, 192 Foreshadowing: schemas regarding, 116; William’s death, 117–18, 119 Fort Sumter, 135 Freeman, Benjamin, 92–93 Friedman, Susan Stanford, 3, 212n8 Frugality, 40, 54 Fuller, Margaret, 149 Fundraising: church bell, 147; ice cream, 145–46; projects, 145–47; renovation, 146–47; for Sagamore Cemetery Association, 176 Funerals: at sea, 87; for William, 114–15, 199, 205–6 Gamming, 226n52 Gardening, 130–31, 176 Gender roles, Victorian, 36, 68, 220n25, 223n38

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Genealogy, Crowell family, 13 Genteel traditional lady, 146, 149–50, 176 George Raynes (ship), 114 Ghost article, 179–80 Gibbs, Alice, 178, 179 Gilje, Paul, 219n16, 221n59, 222n7 Gilmore, Leah, 212n6 Glass industry: beginnings, 16; demise of, 236n53 Glass museum. See Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society Goldsmith, Oliver, 25 “Gospel Wagon” (singing group), 177 Grant, Mr. and Mrs. (London friends), 105 Graves, David, 111, 159, 168–69, 204, 206–7, 209, 225n29 Guano, 105, 227n65 Guidebooks on London, 105, 227n64 Gullette, Margaret, 231n41 Hall, Jacquelyn Dowd, 214n24 Hallett, Bangs, 31 Halttunen, Karen, 214n16 Hanaford, J. H., 150, 163, 232n54 Hansen, Karen, 14–15, 215n9 Hardy, Alpheus, 239n57 Harlow, Hepsah, 21 Harlow family background, 13–14 Harriot Erving (ship), 114 Hassell, Martha, 178–79 Haunted homes, 179–80 Herbert (ship), 31 Heroine, 170–72, 204–5 Hewitt, Nancy, 230n5 Highflyer, 101 Histories, 178–79 “History of the Ship’s Log Book,” 234n19; bible incident in, 209; captains arguing/ derision and, 202–3, 205; China regarding, 167–68; death of William in, 204; gold rings vow and, 210; Graves and, 168–69, 204, 206–7, 209; heroine persona in, 170–72, 204–5; Juan Fernando island and, 203–4; navigator persona presented in, 169–70, 202, 208–9; promise to never remarry and, 172; on teaching

school children, 167; William’s death and, 171–72, 204, 207; William’s final moments recorded in, 209–10; Winsor and, 167, 168, 171, 202, 204–5, 207–8 Hodes, Martha, 3 Hoffert, Sylvia, 219n30 Hogan-Schofield, Dorothy, 217n15 Home: vs. Boston, 38; getting, 113–16; haunted, 179–80; redefining, 62–63; reminiscence, 196; sickness, 89; ties to, 66–67 Home Journal, 149 Howes, Emily, 22 Howes, Lewis, 23 Ice cream fundraising, 145–46 Identity: autobiography and, 4, 212n11; as business woman, 134–35, 150–58, 229n4; as captain’s widow, 157–58, 165; church, 144–49, 176; as church leader, 176; as church physical laborer, 148–49; Civil War and, 137; community, 139–42; control issues and, 73–75, 223n58; crafting of, 185–88; crisis of, 86–92; depression and, 90–92; in flux, 62–65; as fundraiser, 145–47; as genteel traditional lady, 146, 149–50, 176; grieving widow, 108–9; as heroine, 170–72, 204–5; home and, 62–63; idle time influencing, 64–65; maritime, 75–81; mortality issues affecting, 86–88; multiple, 135, 230n5; as navigator, 169–70, 202, 208–9; patriot, 135–39; as philanthropist, 144–49; prayer and, 65–66; as prominent community member, 175–77; refashioning, 65–69, 103–4; regrets and, 95–97; as religious figure, 142–44; social isolation affecting, 63–64; as Sunday School teacher, 147–48; ties to home and, 66–67; ties to William and, 67–69, 103–4, 223n40; Victorian/feminist mixing in, 81; as widow, 108–9, 134, 157–58, 165; William’s death defining, 124 Illinois (steamer), 113 Illness: community support during Rebecca’s, 177; of William, 83, 105, 106–8, 198, 227n69 Immigration, 16, 183, 217n15, 239n60

“I’m Thine Alone Rebecca” (Burgess, William), 27, 49 Industrialization, 180–83, 235n52, 237n55, 239n57 Inheritance, 153 In-law will issues, 152–53 “In Memoriam,” 164 “Inventing the ‘Postmaternal’ Woman” (Gullette), 231n41 Investments, 155–57 Invincible (clipper ship), 101, 104 Irish immigrants, 16, 217n15, 239n60 Isaiah Crowell (ship), 102 Jabour, Anya, 12, 214n2 Jackson, Marcellus, 91, 97 Jarves, Deming, 1, 236n53; glass factory opened by, 16; transportation and, 217n13 Jelnik, Estelle, 3, 212n8 Jonathan Bourne Historic Center, 174–75 Journal A: April, 1854 entries in, 193–94; August, 1852 entry in, 191; Cape Horn and, 193; city men depicted in, 40–41; country girl reference in, 38; crew activities recorded in, 76–78; fashion middle ground and, 39; first page of, 28; foremast bow incident in, 74–75, 192; frugality represented in, 40; gold rings vow and, 45, 46; happiness expressed in, 191; home redefined in, 62–63; home vs. Boston and, 38; husband’s departure to sea and, 44–45; idle time and, 63–64; issues of control at sea and, 73–75, 223n58; knitting incident in, 39; March, 1854 entries in, 191–92; maritime entries overview, 60, 62; May, 1854 entries in, 194–95; moral instruction at sea and, 69–73; motives for writing in, 52, 66, 222n29; nautical calendar and, 73, 192; navigation education and, 75, 192; November, 8, 1852 entry in, 27; ocean wonders recorded in, 78–79; 113 days at sea entry in, 57; pages removed from, 219n8; prayer in, 65–66; provincial vs. urban middle class depicted in, 37–41;

Index

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259

Journal A (continued): reading of books and, 43; rereading of, 52–53; savvy shopping and, 39–40; seasickness and, 74; sexual relationship and, 43–44; social isolation and, 63–64; as story/persona creation, 30; ties to home and, 66–67; tie to William expressed in, 67–68, 191; used for Christian instruction, 41–43; water rationing recorded in, 194; wedding vest story in, 191; William’s character in, 31–37; William’s remarks in, 193 Journal B: church attendance recorded in, 54; commentary vs. narrative in, 53; couple’s parting in, 46–47; frugality represented in, 54; introspective quality of, 48; motive for writing in, 52; overview of, 30; prayers for William’s salvation in, 47–48, 54; rereading of, 52–53; on reunion, 53; themes found in, 47; “A Wife To Her Absent Husband” in, 51–52; William’s will written in, 45–46, 153 Journal C: aim in life expressed in, 144; anniversary of death entries in, 111, 200–201; Bible’s return noted in, 160; cemetery trips recorded in, 130; China reflections in, 99–100, 198; Christian community and, 140, 231n28; connecting with William via, 123–24; crisis of religion/faith and, 88–90, 91, 98, 197; death at sea and, 115–16; death desire expressed in, 114; depression struggled with in, 90–92; difficulty writing in, 196; dysentery deaths and, 100, 101, 102; foreshadowing death and, 117, 119; home reminiscence in, 196; homesickness expressed in, 89; ill health expressed in, 91, 95, 96–97; January, 1856 entry in, 198; journey home in, 113–16; journey to China in, 97–99; journey to London in, 101–5; journey to Peru in, 105–6; July 4, 1857 entry in, 199; June, 1856 entry in, 198; letter to departed William in, 199; love of, 123, 200; May, 1857 entry in, 199; as memorial, 124; memory construction using, 119–21; monument poems in, 127–29; Morgan’s death and, 98–99;

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mortality issues and, 86–88, 100–101, 102, 197; mourning rituals recorded in, 125; November, 1858 entry in, 200; O’Niel’s death and, 100–101; optimism, early, expressed in, 85–86; overview of, 84–85; Panama observations in, 113; privacy of, 229n3; regrets expressed in, 95–97, 197; September, 1855 entry in, 198; William’s body/belongings and, 114–16, 199; William’s entries in, 93–94, 103; William’s illness and, 105, 198, 227n69; William’s letter in, 103; writing backward using, 118–19 Journal D: journey to Chinchas and, 106–7; launch incidents recorded in, 107; overview of, 85, 106; William’s death and, 108–9; William’s illness and, 83, 106–8 Journal E: example of financial entries in, 134; in-law issues revealed in, 152–53; management of finances and, 154; nautical equipment sales/rentals and, 152, 153–54; overview of, 134–35; private nature of, 150; William’s estate settlement and, 151–53 Journal F: articles in, 149–50; Hanaford visit recorded in, 150; poems, 149; as public, 134, 229n3 Journal G: ambrotype of William and, 120–21, 122; Bible’s return noted in, 160, 163; cemetery gardening recorded in, 130–31; church manual labor projects in, 148–49; conversion narratives in, 142–44; fundraising activities recorded in, 145–47; Hanaford and, 232n54; Lizzie in South recorded in, 138–39; memory construction using, 120–21; Mexico Independent clipping in, 163–64; philanthropic activities recorded in, 145–49; political views expressed in, 137; sewing circle and, 139; Sunday School class and, 147–48; war news recorded in, 136–37; William’s spiritual presence and, 126; Yarmouth Camp Meetings and, 141 Journal H: foreshadowing death and, 117–18; July 4 and, 125; Lizzie in South recorded in, 137–38; sewing circle and,

139; Thanksgiving eve entry in, 133–34; war news recorded in, 136; William’s spirit and, 123–24 Journal writing: cessation of, 177, 235n42; Victorian practices in, 2, 91, 211n3; women’s reasons for, 28 Juan Fernando island, 203–4 Keith, Isaac, 17, 237n56 Keith Car Manufacturing Company, 181, 183, 237n55, 239n60 Kelly, Catherine: class evolution and, 216n11; gender ideology vs. experience and, 213n13; middle classes and, 37, 39, 223n38 Kingley, John, 102 Kittredge, Henry, 178 Knitting incident, 39 Laderman, Gary, 23 Ladies’ Repository (Victorian magazine), 150 Landscaping, 130–31 Language, profane, 72 Launch incidents, 107 Legacy: crafting of, 185–88; preserving of, 173–74 Legend: Bible’s return and, 160, 163–64, 209; exaggeration of, 179–80; historians/ scholars regarding, 178–79; newspapers documenting, 164–66, 178; obituary upholding, 178; preserving, 172–75; running with, 177–84; of saving the Challenger, 166–72; shaping, 159–60; veracity of, 175, 186; of William’s death, 171–72. See also “History of the Ship’s Log Book” Letter about saving Challenger. See “History of the Ship’s Log Book” Liberty on the Waterfront (Gilje), 219n16, 221n59, 222n7 Lincoln, Abraham, 137 Lincoln, F., 191 Lizzie (sister). See Edgerly, Lizzie Loans, 135, 150, 153–54, 229n4 Log of the Whirlwind. See “Lost Log of the Whirlwind”

London, 105 “Lost Log of the Whirlwind” (undonated journal), 81, 195 Love: of Journal C, 123, 200; Victorian, 24–25 Lovell, R. A., 179 Management of finances, 154 Mann, Horace, 21 Manual labor philanthropy, 148–49 Maritime industry decline, 180–81, 235n52 Marriage, 28, 219n4, 232n56 Massachusetts: economic/social changes sweeping, 15–16, 215n10, 216n11; mortality rates in, 22–23, 218n28 McGlone, Robert, 118, 228n18; autobiographical memory and, 6–7 Memories: aphoristic, 118; articles documenting, 165–66; autobiographical, 6–7, 116, 228n18; captain’s widow persona created via, 165; communal, 7–8, 214n24; constructing, 119–21; foreshadowing death, 117–18; imparted to school children, 166–67; “In Memoriam,” 164; as link to William, 121; nature of, 6; in print, 164–66; “Sagamore,” 165; of saving the Challenger, 166–72; writing backward and, 118–19 Mercury, 105, 227n69 Methodist conversion narratives, 143 Mexico Independent (newspaper), 163–64 Middle class: provincial vs. urban, 37–41, 223n38; women/work and, 151 Monument: poems inscribed on, 127–29; preservation of, 173; public nature of, 129–30; purchase of, 126–27 Moonlight, 78 Moral instruction: at sea, 69–73; Victorian, 20; for William, 41–43, 69–73 Morgan, Frederic D., 98–99 Morison, Samuel Eliot, 188 Morrison, Rev. and Mrs., 126 Mortality: autograph book and, 22–23, 218n28, 219n30; death at sea and, 102; Folger’s death and, 86–88; funerals at sea and, 87; Morgan’s death and, 98–99; O’Niel’s death and, 100–101; preparation regarding, 54, 197. See also Death

Index

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261

Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association, 187 Mourning: cemetery and, 126–31; conversations about William as, 125–26; cult of true womanhood and, 5, 214n16; gardening as, 130–31; going beyond, 126; July 4 regarding, 125; monument and, 126–30; poems of, 127–29; public aspect of, 126, 129, 131; Victorian rituals of, 124–25 Multiple identities, 135, 230n5 Narrative manipulation, 3 Nautical calendar, 73, 192 Nautical equipment sales/rentals, 152, 153–54 Navigator persona, 169–70, 202, 208–9 Neopolitan Revolt, 239n57 Newell, Mr. (ship’s owner), 42 New England: economic/social changes sweeping, 15, 215n10, 216n11; marriage in, 28, 219n4; neighborhood/kin connections and, 14–15, 215n9 New Woman, 145, 231n41 Nora, Pierre, 187, 214n24 Norling, Lisa, 213n15 Novotny, Kristin, 230n5 Nussbaum, Felicity, 212n6 Obelisk, 126–30 Obituary, 178 Ocean wonders, 78–79 Olney, James: fictive self and, 212n6; memory and, 6 O’Niel, James, 100–101 Osterud, Nancy Grey, 215n9 Panama, 113 “Parting Words” (Burgess, William), 25 Patriot: identity as, 135–39; Lizzie in South and, 137–39; recording political views, 137; recording war news, 136–37; unionist as, 135; volunteer work, 136 Personalism, in finances, 156 Peru, journey to, 105–6 Philanthropy: church, 144–49; church painting and, 148–49; focus on, 144; fundraising and, 145–47; manual labor, 148–49; New Woman regarding, 145,

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Index

231n41; Sunday School, 147–48; Victorian, 144–45, 231n41 Philbrick, Thomas, 219n16 Photographs: ambrotype of William, 122; bible, 162; Challenger, 84; eighteen years old, 29; family and friends, 140; genteel middle-aged Victorian widow, 146; twenty-five years old, 161; Whirlwind sailing card, 61 Poems: autograph journal, 24–25; “I’m Thine Alone Rebecca,” 27; monument, 127–29; “Parting Words,” 25; scrapbook, 149; “The Waif,” 163; “A Wife To Her Absent Husband,” 51 Political views, 137 Portfolio diversification, 155–56 “A Possible Relic of Shipwreck” (Dana), 160 Postcards, 166 Prayer: identity refashioning and, 65–66; William’s salvation and, 47–48, 54 Profane language, 72 Prude, Jonathan, 215n9 Public diaries, 3–4, 211n4 Racism, 225n29 Rats, 78 Real Womanhood ideal, 213n13 Reaves, Gerri, 212n6 Rediker, Marcus, 87, 222n7 Regrets, 95–97, 197 Relationship: Christian values instruction within, 41–43; gold rings vow and, 45, 46, 179, 210; inscribing, 43–53; letters regarding, 48–50; reunion in, 53–55; at sea, 69–73; self-depreciating humor in, 72–73; sexual, 43–44; “A Wife To Her Absent Husband” regarding, 51; will and, 45–46; William’s California trip and, 47–53 Religion: autograph book and, 20–21; crisis of, 88–90, 91, 98, 197; identity regarding, 142–44. See also Christian; Church Renovation projects, 146–47 Reunion: activities following, 53–54; after California trip, 53–55; churches attended

during, 54; joy expressed in, 53; permanence of, 55 Ringleader (clipper ship), 160, 163 Rings, gold, 45, 46, 179, 210 Rockefeller, John D., 233n76 Romance novels, 43, 220n45 Rosenblatt, Paul, 112 Ryan, Mary, 212n12 Sagamore: canal project affecting, 182–83, 239n57; creation of, 182, 237n56; tourism in, 183–84; turn-of-the-century businesses in, 240n64 “Sagamore” (Sandwich Independent), 165 Sagamore Cemetery Association, 173, 176 Sail Away Ladies (Coogan), 178 Sailors: activities of, 64–65; African American, 225n29; Burgess, William, and, 32–33; characterizations of, 32–33, 219n16; clipper ships and, 59, 222n7; death at sea regarding, 86–87; dysentery and, 101, 102, 103; foremast area regarding, 74; licentiousness of, 48, 221n59; salvation of, 72 Sandwich: census data on, 17, 180–81, 189–90, 217n14, 236n53; Civil War volunteers, 135–36; division of, 182, 237n56; economic changes sweeping, 16, 216n12, 217nn13–14; geography of, 16; glass industry demise impacting, 236n53; Guards, 135; history of, 8, 16, 216n12, 217nn13–14, 218n16; industrialization altering, 180–83; Irish immigrants and, 16, 217n15; mariners living in, 190; maritime heritage and, 8; maritime trade in, 218n16; occupations in, 189; ordinary character of, 12; tourism in, 183–84; traditional occupations demise in, 180–81, 235n52; turn-of-thecentury businesses in, 240n64. See also West Sandwich Sandwich: A Cape Cod Town (Lovell), 179 Sandwich Glass Museum and Historical Society: exhibit/source documents in, 1, 174; items bequest to, 173–74

Sandwich Independent (newspaper): obituary in, 178; “Sagamore” published in, 165 San Francisco, 79–80, 224n78 Schemas, 116 Schofield, Dorothy, 1 School agent, 21 School children memories, 166–67 Scrapbook. See Journal F Sea, women who go to, 5, 178, 213n15 Seafaring Women (Depauw), 178 Sears, Seth, 33 Sea shanties, 76–77 Seasickness, 34, 74 Seven Days Campaign, 136 Sewing circle, 139–40, 149, 230n27 Sexual relationship, 43–44 “Shaping Meaning” (Cooper, Joanne), 228n3 Sharks, 77 Shipmasters of Cape Cod (Kittredge), 178 Shopping: excursion, 37; savvy, 39–40 Singleton, Mary Ann, 74–75, 78, 191 Smallpox, 85–86 Smith (seaman), 77 Smith, Sidonie: cult of true womanhood and, 213n14; on female autobiographers, 3; fictive self and, 212n6; identity/culture and, 212n11; memory and, 6; private vs. public autobiography and, 211n4 Snow, Edward, 70, 178 Social isolation, 63–64, 222n16 Source documents, 1–2, 9, 211n1 South Scusset School, 21–22 Speaking up, 101, 102, 226n52 Speedwell (Pilgrim vessel), 179 Spiritual presence, 123–24, 126 Spring, Emily, 20–21 Springer, Haskell, 178, 222n16, 223n40, 223n58 Steward, Church, 176 Stocks, 156–57 Sunday School, 147–48 Sunsets, 78–79 Swift, Gustavus, 156 Swift, Noble, 237n56

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Swift, Sarah, 127, 128–29 Swift & Co., 156–57 Swift family, 156 Tassinari, John, 150 “‘Taylor’-Made?” (Novotny), 230n5 Thoreau, Henry David, 12 Tourism, 183–84 Tradition, 15–19 “The Traveler, Or, A Prospect of Society” (Goldsmith), 25 Travel notes: overview of, 80–81; on San Francisco, 80 Trustee, Church, 176 Two Years Before the Mast (Dana), 32–33, 163, 219n16 Ulrich, Laurel Thatcher, 9, 214n27 United Daughters of the Confederacy, 187 Upham, Charles, 22 Veracity, 9, 175, 186, 223n40 Vest story, 191 Vickers, Daniel, 59, 221n59 Victorian: autobiography practices, 2; business women, 156; Civil War views, 136, 230n12; courtship, 23–25; education, 21–22; feminist mixing, 81, 178, 224n82; gender roles, 36, 68, 220n25, 223n38; historians, 187–88; journal writing practices, 2, 91, 211n3; love, 24–25; magazine, 150; morality, 20; mourning rituals, 124–25; vs. New Woman, 145, 231n41; philanthropy, 144–45, 231n41; religion, 20–21; upbringing, 13; values, 20–22, 218n27; views on books, 42–43 Vinovskis, Maris, 218n28 Waciega, Lisa, 157 “The Waif ” (Hanaford), 163 Walsh, Vince, 59, 221n59 Water rationing, 194 Watson, Julia: identity/culture and, 212n11; memory and, 6; private vs. public autobiography and, 211n4

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Wedding vest story, 191 West Sandwich: antebellum change in, 17–19; antebellum ethnic makeup of, 17–18; census data on, 17, 180–81, 237n55; Crowell family’s place in, 18–19; glass industry demise impacting, 236n53; industrialization altering, 180–83, 235n52, 237n55, 239n57; Keith Car Co. affecting, 181, 237n55; town divisions regarding, 182, 237n56; traditional occupations demise in, 180–81, 235n52 Whirlwind (clipper ship): cabins on, 59–60; log entries, 68–69; sailing card, 61; San Francisco arrival of, 79; size of, 59; social isolation on, 63–64 Whitey, Henry, 239n57 Whittemore & Company, W. & F.H., 152 Widowhood: business and, 157; grief in, 108–9; identity and, 108–9, 134, 157–58, 165; inheritance and, 153; journal writing and, 112; loneliness of, 111; onset of, 108–12; remarriage and, 232n56 “A Wife To Her Absent Husband” (Burgess, Rebecca), 51–52 Will: amounts bequest in, 173; preserving legacy via, 173–74; Sandwich Historical Society and, 173–74; William’s, 45–46, 153, 157 William (Rebecca’s husband). See Burgess, William Winds, 69, 70–72, 192, 194–95 Wink, Amy, 4 Winsor, Henry: legend regarding, 168, 171, 175, 178, 202, 203, 204, 207, 208; lost launch and, 107; nautical instruments rented to, 152; navigation and, 166, 178, 202, 203, 204, 207, 208; students’ lesson regarding, 167, 205; veracity of legend regarding, 175 “Woman’s Qualities” (Home Journal), 149 Women: autobiography and, 2, 3–4, 211n3, 212n8; business, 156; Civil War efforts of, 136; commemoration and, 187; historians, 187–88; journal writing and, 28; New Woman and, 145, 231n41; who go to sea, 5, 57–58, 178, 213n15, 221n3; work and, 151

Women at Sea in the Age of Sail (Baird), 178 Women of the Sea (Snow), 178 Women’s Central Association of Relief and Sanitary Commission, 136 Writing backward, 118–19

Yarmouth Camp Meetings: establishment of, 140–41; family/community regarding, 141–42; numbers attending, 141 Your Weekly Guide to Cape Cod (newspaper), 178

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About the Author

Megan Taylor Sho ckley is Associate Professor of History at Clemson University and the author of “We, Too, Are Americans”: African American Women in Detroit and Richmond, 1940–1954.

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