HANNAH ADAMS is not related to the famous founder or his wife who have received so much attention. Born in 1755 in Medfield, Massachusetts, to Eleanor Clark and Thomas Adams, Hannah Adams led a sheltered life in an upper-class family because of what she termed “a feeble constitution.” Possessing a brilliant mind she was educated at home, as were many young women of those times, seeking enlightenment and pleasure in books: histories, poetry and novels. Her mother died when she was ten and, after her father’s business failed, she was forced to support herself. As sewing provided an insufficient income, she turned to writing, history in particular, becoming one of the first professional writers in the United States. Her books included a histories of New England, the Jews, and several religious works, among others. She was the first woman to be allowed into the Boston Athenaeum. Remaining single all her life, in 1832 she wrote her Memoirs. This work is a wonderful source of insights not only into her life but also into the times in which she lived. Here is what she had to say about her education.

My health did not . . . admit of attending school with the children in the neighborhood where I resided. The country schools, at that time, were kept but a few months in the year, and all that was then taught in them was reading, writing and arithmetic. In the summer, the children were instructed by females in reading, sewing and other kinds of work. The books chiefly made use of were the Bible and Psalter. . . . The disadvantages of my early education I have experienced during life; and among various others, the acquiring a very faulty pronunciation; a habit contracted so early, that I cannot wholly rectify it in later years.
In my early years I was extremely timid, and averse from appearing in company. Indeed, I found but few with whom I could happily associate. My life, however, was not devoid of enjoyment. The first strong propensity of my mind which I can recollect, was an ardent curiosity, and desire to acquire knowledge. I remember that my first idea of the happiness of Heaven was, of a place where we should find our thirst for knowledge fully gratified. From my predominant taste I was induced to apply to reading, and as my father had a considerable library, I was enabled to gratify my inclination. I read with avidity a variety of books, previously to my mind’s being sufficiently matured, and strengthened, to make a proper selection. I was passionately fond of novels; and, as I lived in a state of seclusion, I acquired false ideas of life. The ideal world which my imagination formed was very different from the real. My passions were naturally strong, and this kind of reading heightened my sensibility, by calling it forth to realize scenes of imaginary distress. I was also an enthusiastic admirer of poetry; and as my memory, at an early period, was very tenacious, I committed much of the writings of my favorite poets to memory, such as Milton, Thompson, Young, &c. I did not, however, neglect the study of history and biography, in each of which kind of reading I found an inexhaustible fund to feast my mind, and gratify my curiosity.

A Memoir of Miss Hannah Adams 1755-1831 (Boston: Grey and Bowen, 1832), pages 3-5.

The book Selected Letters of John Jay and Sarah Livingston Jaytook approximately four+ years to research and write. In the Words of Women published in 2011 took six years, understandable because the scope was much broader than that of the first book and the research more challenging because many of the subjects were little known and obscure. On the other hand the research process was quite different for, in the space of time between books, libraries, historical societies, newspapers, and browsers like Goggle began to digitize their holdings and archives.
I was sceptical of the process at first with regard to manuscripts because I didn’t think the technology was good enough to produce legible copies. I was wrong. See for instance the Massachusetts Historical Society’s wonderful Adams Family Papers Historical Archive. The text of the correspondence between John and Abigail is clear, in part due to the legible handwriting of the pair, although you can consult a transcription if necessary. You can also zoom in on the pages and distinguish quite easily between a comma and a period, upper and lower case letters. Digitization of primary source materials allowed us to read them sitting at our computers.
There are, however, some drawbacks to this development. Digitization is a work in progress. Some institutions cannot afford the cost so there still is a large amount of material out there in manuscript form which still requires visits to libraries etc. Moreover holdings are often digitized selectively, based on someone’s judgment. Janice P. Nimura in her article in The New York Times Book Review titled “Under No Certain Search Terms” “Under No Certain Search Terms” points out another drawback: you get only the information that is relevant to the wording and focus of the search terms you entered in the browser. Nimura notes that “You find exactly what you’re looking for, and nothing that you’re not. . . . Search algorithms leave no room for serendipity, and without that, some of the magic leaks out of the pursuit of the past.” Do you remember browsing in the stacks and coming across other books of interest in the vicinity of the one you were looking for. Books that provide new information or details, or even a particular slant that you might not otherwise have discovered.
While digitization of sources relevant to the subjects of our second book was very useful and convenient, it did away with some of the excitement and pleasure of handling the actual letters, diaries and journals of the subjects, lessening the possibility of “research rapture” that scholars thrive on.

When Louise North, Landa Freeman and I assembled, selected, and edited the letters for our first book, Selected Letters of John Jay and Sarah Livingston Jay, (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, 2005), we spent an enormous amount of time in the Rare Book and Manuscript Library of Columbia University which housed the bulk of the Jay Papers. Each of us focused on a particular person and received manuscript letters we requested, in file folders, three at a time. Sitting side by side at long tables we transcribed those we thought were especially interesting, at first with pencil on paper, later using early generation laptop computers. The puzzle of an undecipherable word was usually solved by a whispered conference as were decisions as to whether a letter was upper or lower case. Of course, we tracked down other materials and physically visited the libraries and historical societies where they were located. Our final selections were made in weekly meetings where we read promising letters aloud. (We were having one such meeting at my house on the morning of September 11, 2001, when having been alerted by a phone call, we turned on the television set and watched in horror the attack on the World Trade Center.)

Reading a recent column in The New York Times Book Review titled “Under No Certain Search Terms” by Janice P. Nimura brought back memories of our research experience. Nimura speaks of “‘research rapture’—the rare and ecstatic moment when you slip the bonds of the present and follow a twinkling detail into the past.” I know it well. A letter written by Sarah Jay to her mother that made its way across the Atlantic from Spain to Elizabethtown, New Jersey in 1780, containing the news that the child she had recently given birth to had died produced tears on first reading, and still does today. Marveling over a letter written by Thomas Jefferson to John Jay from Paris in 1789 describing the various wines he was sending him after a tour of French vineyards, I could barely wrap my head around the thought that both men had touched the page I was reading. John Jay always noted on the top left corner of the reverse side the date on which he received the letter and when or if he responded to it. It was difficult to call a halt to the research process, as anyone who has written a thesis or book will admit.

Our experience in producing our next book, In the Words of Women, was rather different. I’ll write about that in the next post.

Concluding the month of February’s posts on the Washingtons is a letter by Nelly Custis, granddaughter to Martha and adopted daughter of George Washington, to Jared Sparks in 1823 in reply to Jared’s questions about the Washingtons’ religious beliefs and practices as well as how they spent their Sundays.

I hasten to give you the information you desire.
Truro Parish [Episcopal] is the one in which Mount Vernon, Pohick Church [the church where George Washington served as a vestryman], and . . . are situated. Fairfax Parish is now Alexandria. Before the Federal District was ceded to Congress, Alexandria was in Fairfax County. General Washington had a pew in Pohick Church, and one in Christ Church at Alexandria. He was very instrumental in establishing Pohick Church, and I believe subscribed largely. His pew was near the pulpit. I have a perfect recollection of being there, before his election to the presidency, with him and my grandmother…
He attended the church at Alexandria when the weather and roads permitted a ride of ten miles [a one-way journey of 2-3 hours by horse or carriage]. In New York and Philadelphia he never omitted attendance at church in the morning, unless detained by indisposition. The afternoon was spent in his own room at home; the evening with his family, and without company. Sometimes an old and intimate friend called to see us for an hour or two; but visiting and visitors were prohibited for that day [Sunday]. No one in church attended to the services with more reverential respect. My grandmother, who was eminently pious, never deviated from her early habits. She always knelt. The General, as was then the custom, stood during the devotional parts of the service. On communion Sundays, he left the church with me, after the blessing, and returned home, and we sent the carriage back for my grandmother.
It was his custom to retire to his library at nine or ten o’clock where he remained an hour before he went to his chamber. He always rose before the sun and remained in his library until called to breakfast. I never witnessed his private devotions. I never inquired about them. I should have thought it the greatest heresy to doubt his firm belief in Christianity. His life, his writings, prove that he was a Christian. He was not one of those who act or pray, “that they may be seen of men” [Matthew 6:5]. He communed with his God in secret [Matthew 6:6].
My mother [Eleanor Calvert-Lewis] resided two years at Mount Vernon after her marriage [in 1774] with John Parke Custis, the only son of Mrs. Washington. I have heard her say that General Washington always received the sacrament with my grandmother before the revolution. (The king of England was the head of the church and apparently Washington would not recognize him as such after the war). When my aunt, Miss Custis [Martha’s daughter] died suddenly at Mount Vernon, before they could realize the event [before they understood she was dead], he [General Washington] knelt by her and prayed most fervently, most affectingly, for her recovery. Of this I was assured by Judge [Bushrod] Washington’s mother and other witnesses.
He [George Washington] was a silent, thoughtful man. He spoke little generally; never of himself. I never heard him relate a single act of his life during the war. I have often seen him perfectly abstracted, his lips moving, but no sound was perceptible. I have sometimes made him laugh most heartily from sympathy with my joyous and extravagant spirits. I was, probably, one of the last persons on earth to whom he would have addressed serious conversation, particularly when he knew that I had the most perfect model of female excellence [Martha Washington] ever with me as my monitress, who acted the part of a tender and devoted parent, loving me as only a mother can love, and never extenuating [tolerating] or approving in me what she disapproved of others. She never omitted her private devotions, or her public duties; and she and her husband were so perfectly united and happy that he must have been a Christian. She had no doubts, no fears for him. After forty years of devoted affection and uninterrupted happiness, she resigned him without a murmur into the arms of his Savior and his God, with the assured hope of his eternal felicity.
Is it necessary that any one should certify, “General Washington avowed himself to me a believer in Christianity?” As well may we question his patriotism, his heroic, disinterested devotion to his country. His mottos were, “Deeds, not Words”; and, “For God and my Country.”
With sentiments of esteem,
I am, Nelly Custis-Lewis

Excerpts from the letter were included in a blog post by Barbara Wells Sarudy paying tribute to Martha Washington. Read a more complete version of the letter HERE.

On December 22, 1799, ABIGAIL ADAMS wrote a letter to her sister Mary Cranch expressing her thoughts and feelings about George Washington and his death. She wrote another to Mary on January 28, 1800. While praising Washington Abigail was quick to point out that what had been accomplished in America was the work of many, not due to the efforts of one man alone.

MY DEAR SISTER:

I yesterday received your Letter of the eigth, I think you have testified your proportion of Respect in a handsome manner to the Memory of the good and virtuous Washington. That he ought to live in our Memories, and be transmitted to posterity as a Character truly worthy Imitation is Right, but some Eulogystjs] have asscribed to him solely, what was the joint effort & concert of Many. To no one Man in America, belongs the Epithet of Saviour of his Country. That Washingtons Character, when we take into view, his Education, the place of his Birth, and the various scenes in which he was calld to act, exhibits a most uncommon assemblage of Modesty, Moderation, Magninimity, fortititud [sic], perseverance and disinterestedness, will be most readily allowed, but at no time, did the fate of America rest upon the Breath of even a Washington, and those who assert these things, are Ignorant of the spirit of their countrymen, and whilst they strive to exalt one character, degrade that of their Country. . . .

The letter can be found in New Letters of Abigail Adams, 1788-1801, edited with an Introduction by Stewart Mitchell (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1947) pages 228-230. It can be read online HERE.