Henriette-Lucie de La Tour du Pin de Gouvernet was the wife of a French aristocrat who sought refuge in the United States with his family in 1794 to escape the guillotine. The exiles made a life for themselves—quite different from the one they had in France—on a farm they purchased near Albany. Henriette-Lucie recorded the details of their years abroad in a journal which was published by her heirs, and in which she described herself.

On paper, the portrait will not be flattering, for my reputation for beauty was due entirely to my figure and my bearing, not at all to my features.

My greatest beauty was my thick ash-blond hair. I had small grey eyes and my eyelashes were very thin, partly destroyed when I was four by a bad attack of smallpox. I had sparse, fair eyebrows, a high forehead and a nose often described as Grecian, but long and too heavy at the tip. My best feature was my mouth, for my lips were well shaped and had a fresh bloom. I also had very good teeth. Even today, at the age of seventy-one, I still have them all. I was said to have a pleasant face and an attractive smile, yet in spite of that, my appearance might have been considered ugly. I am afraid a number of people must have thought so, for I myself considered hideous certain women said to resemble me. But my height and my good figure, my dazzlingly clear and transparent complexion made me outstanding in any gathering, particularly by day, and I certainly overshadowed other women endowed with far better looks than mine.

The family had four slaves, among them Prime who “although he could not read or write, nevertheless kept accounts with such exactitude that there was never the slightest error.” In the spring of 1796, word was received from France that confiscated property had been returned to the family of Henriette-Lucie’s husband, and that it was necessary for him to return to France to claim it. Before departing, Henriette-Lucie insisted that their slaves be given their freedom.

These poor people, on seeing the letters arrive from Europe, had feared some change in our life. They were disturbed and alarmed. Therefore, all four of them were trembling when they entered my room to which I had called them. They found me alone. I said to them with emotion: “My friends, we are going to return to Europe. What shall I do with you?” The poor creatures were overcome. Judith dropped into a chair, in tears, while the three men covered their faces with their hands, and all remained silent. I continued: “We have been so satisfied with you that it is just that you should be recompensed. My husband has charged me to tell you that he will give you your liberty.” On hearing this word our good servants were so stupified that they remained for several seconds without speech. Then all four threw themselves at my feet crying: “Is it possible? Do you mean that we are free?” I replied: “Yes, upon my honor, from this moment, as free as I am myself.”

Who can describe the poignant emotion of such a moment! Never in my life had I experienced anything so sweet. Those whom I had just promised their liberty surrounded me in tears. …

The following day my husband took them to Albany before a judge, for the ceremony of the manumission, an act which had to be public. All the negroes of the city were present. The Justice of the Peace, who was at the same time the steward of Mr. Van Rensselaer, was in very bad humor. He attempted to assert that Prime, being fifty years of age, could not under the terms of the law be given his liberty unless he was assured a pension of a hundred dollars. But Prime had foreseen this case, and he produced his certificate of baptism which attested that he was only forty-nine. They made the slaves kneel before my husband, and he placed his hand upon the head of each to sanction his liberation, exactly in the manner of ancient Rome.

The quoted material can be found on pages 309 and 312-13 of In the Words of Women. The illustration is taken from the book Dancing to the Precipice: the Life of Lucie de la Tour du Pin—Eyewitness to History by Caroline Morehead, a good read if you want to know more about this remarkable woman.

Manumission was the legal document by which freedom was given to a slave. Its use was a way to end slavery advocated by those who wished to do so peacefully and voluntarily. The following deed of manumission dates from 1766 and was executed in Pennsylvania, where antislavery agitation was strong, but before a law ending slavery took effect in the colony.

KNOW ALL Men by these presents that we Mary and Sarah Norris joint administratrices of the Estate of Isaac Norris late of Fairhill in the county of Philadelphia Esqr deceased, have granted and agreed that a certain Negro man named Samuel late the property of their dear Parent the before mention’d Isaac Norris, upon Conditions shall be free, these therefore Witnesseth that for and in Consideration of his faithfull Services to his late honoured Master they do jointly agree that he the said Samuel shall from and after the thirteenth day of July next be free and discharg’d from his Servitude and shall have a bill of Manumission for that purpose in due form of Law. Provided Nevertheless that in the meanwhile the said Samuel doth faithfully and honestly serve them the said Mary and Sarah Norris on the same Conditions and in the same manner he has hitherto done otherwise this Obligation to be void and of no effect.

Jane Mecom, Benjamin Franklin’s sister, wrote to her daughter Jane Collas detailing concerns about her lifestyle and declining, for the time being, the offer to live with her. Jane is certainly forthright in her criticism, to which her daughter took umbrage. It appears that generational conflict is not new.

Coventry, April 1778My Dear Child,
That I always did love you I think I have all along in life given manufest proof … and that I do still love you … is a sufficient witness to myself, for I can’t think that a sincere affection will suffer great mistakes to pass without endeavouring a reformation. If my reproof has effected that, the end is answerd and I shall with as much satisfaction spend the remainder of my days with you as you would to have me … but some alteration in the disposition I observed in you when here, there must be, or I should not be happy. I see your fondness for a great deal of company is not at all abated, and that is exceeding disagreeable to me. Your aspiring so much to gentility, without means to support it, must appear as ridiculous in every prudent person’s eye as it does to mine … and your lying abed in a morning was always a trouble to me. … It has often so fretted me to wait for you to come to breakfast that I could not get over it in some hours. Those are some of the reasons why I appeared indifferent about going to live with you. … My natural temper is none of the patientest, and tho’ by age and experience I am brought in some measure to check the appearance of resentment, I don’t know but I am as much inwardly galled as ever, therefore think it prudent to avoid such occasions as much as may be. But, after all, whenever I hear you are settled … you may depend on my coming to make a trial. … I must spend the remainder of my life where I can enjoy most ease and happiness. I have gone through trouble sufficient for the time. It is natural to wish for ease and quiet at my years.

The excerpt is from The Letters of Benjamin Franklin & Jane Mecom edited by Carl Van Doren (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1950), pages 174-75.

During the eighteenth century medical schools increased in number and the education of doctors became more “scientific.” Learning about the anatomy of human beings meant studying and dissecting human bodies, consequently the demand for cadavers grew. In Britain those who had been condemned to death and executed were legally subject to dissection. Soon however, the shortage of bodies led to grave robbing, and body snatching became a lucrative business; its practitioners were called “resurrectionists.” The famous pair, William Burke and William Hare, went a step farther, murdering people to supply fresh corpses to doctors and students.

Body snatching also began to flourish in the United States to supply recently established medical schools, especially in cities like Philadelphia, Baltimore, and New York. Public graveyards and potter’s fields were robbed: those disinterred included the poor, African Americans and Indians. Trafficking in dead bodies disturbed many; efforts were made to protect the graves of the dead and to enact legislation governing the acquisition of cadavers. Public outrage and resentment often led to mob actions.

At City Hospital in New York, on April 13, 1788, a group of boys playing near the dissection room window claimed to have recognized one of the cadavers. An angry crowd attacked the hospital but was somewhat mollified when the police rounded up the medical students and doctors and put them in jail for their safety. When the mob reassembled and threatened to storm the jail, the militia was called out, but only a few responded. The authorities fired on the crowd and three rioters were killed. Several prominent citizens joined the militia in this action, among them Governor George Clinton, Baron von Steuben, and John Jay. Serving as minister for foreign affairs for the new nation, Jay was living in New York City. His wife Sarah wrote of the incident to her mother.

New York April 17, 1788My dr. Mama,
On Monday, the evening preceeding the day on which we expected a large company to dine, just as we were going to tea, Genl. Clarkson call’d in to know if we could lend him a sword, for says he the rioters are proceeding to the Jail & are determined to open the doors & liberate the prisoners as well as to tear in pieces the Doctors who are confin’d there, & if they effect their plan confusion, murder &c. may be the result. Mr. Jay ran up the stairs & handing Clarkson one sword, to my great concern arm’d himself with another, & went towards the Jail which the Citizens determin’d to defend.

Just as he was going up the steps of the jail, a stone thrown by one of the Mob (for it was too dark to discern which) took him in the forehead & stunn’d him so that he fell. Clarkson & Rutherford who were near, carried him into the Poor-house & fetch’d [Doctor] Charlton & then brought them both home together in the Carriage. The stone must have been large as it had made two large holes in his forehead. Judge Mama of my feelings when I saw him hurried from the Carriage to the Chamber by the Dr. & other gentlemen.

The Dr. immediately examined his wounds, & to my unspeakable relief pronounced that there was no fracture. After dressing the wound he bled him & gave him some drops that he said wd. compose him; it did not however make him sleep, but still his head felt better the next day tho’ his eyes were much swell’d & discolor’d, & indeed remain so yet. He is quite out of danger, but suffers vast pain from his neck & shoulders which we think must proceed from a cold he may have taken that rainy evening that he receiv’d his blow. …

I cannot quit the Chamber except to wait upon Mr. Jay & therefore beg that my dr. Mama will excuse my not having purchased the things for her. …
Remember us all to Papa & believe me my [dear] Mama to be sincerely Yr. dutiful Daughter
Sa. Jay

Sarah’s letter can be found on page 180-81 of Selected Letters of John Jay and Sarah Livingston Jay. The portrait of John Jay (in thumbnail) is by Gilbert Stuart c. 1784.

On July 2, 1776, British General William Howe landed his troops on Staten Island without opposition; ten days later, two British ships sailed up the Hudson River past the blazing guns of the American artillery, and Admiral Richard Howe’s ships of war arrived in New York harbor. Many of the city’s inhabitants had already fled to the country for safety. Mrs. A. Hampton, whose sympathies were with the British, vividly described the frightening confusion and dangers she faced to her daughter Polly in New Windsor, New York.

3 miles from new York August 4th 1776My dear Child
Oh polly you Cannot be Suficinlly thankful that you are out of this deplorable Cyte [City], where Every thing that once was delightful now only Serves to make one wretched. For my part I cannot Spend one day in it for there is Scarcely one in that I know, all friend gone, gone and god only knows when we Shall return perhaps never.
I have been as far as haverstraw Since you left this but Could not Content my Self So far from my mother So nancy and I returnd that Same day about 4 hours be fore the Ships went up the river. I never underwent Such a fright in all my life, Cannons roring, drums Beating to arms, all things in Confusion, my mother out of town, not a friend to go to. Poor nancy and I we had no other refuge but to run for our Lives and indeed we was in great Danger but I was insenceable of it for the Bullets flew thick over our heads as we went up the Bowrey. But thank god we Escaped. What we are reservd for heaven only knows.
I hope you Spend your time more agreable then we do here for there is nothing to be heard but rumour upon rumour. So that I think our time ought to be Spent in Suplicating god, that he would be gratious and gather us from all places whence we are Scattered, and Bring us to our native place and that he would Establish us upon Such foundations of rightiousness and peace that It may nevermore be in the power of our restless adversaries to disturb us. Dear polly I have a good deal to Say more—but Shall Conclude at present with my Earnest wish for your welfare from your Affectionate Mother A. Hampton
PS … I Send you a Lock of my hair

Mrs. Hampton’s letter appears on pages 52-53 of In the Words of Women.