Dem
47
GOP
53
One of these days, hopefully soon, we are going to write another item about Donald Trump's efforts to de-"woke"-ify history, specifically at the Smithsonian Institution. What Trump and his ilk undoubtedly do not know is that people have been trying to diversify the story of America for a very, very long time—well before Trump was even born. It is true that such efforts were more limited 100 or 150 years ago, and also that they were prone to descend into tokenism and/or stereotyping. Still, the concern about a better-rounded historical record was there.
Take, for example, the story of women in Revolutionary-era America. For several generations, the go-to "person" used to get women into the story was Molly Pitcher, who ostensibly aided artillerymen at the Battle of Monmouth by bringing them drinking water, despite the obvious peril to herself. She became enough of a hero that there are still numerous streets, rest stops and other landmarks named for her. What was lost over the years, for many people, was that "Molly Pitcher" wasn't an actual person, it was a nickname for all the women who contributed to the war effort, very much along the same lines as the name "Rosie the Riveter." Such a thing does not work especially well for most kinds of narrative history, which tend to focus on specific people doing specific things at specific times. So, as people became aware that there was no Molly Pitcher, as such, she faded from the textbooks, and she doesn't get stuff named after her anymore.
Taking Molly's place, to a greater or lesser extent, was Betsy Ross. We imagine that everyone reading this knows about her, and how George Washington commissioned her to sew the first American flag. It's a fine, uplifting story, and there are many paintings and drawings and postage stamps commemorating that event. The story caught on to such an extent that, in a survey conducted for the Journal of American History a few years back, Ross was the most recognizable woman in American history among high schoolers (and one of only two women in the Top 20, along with Harriet Tubman). The good news is that Ross, unlike Pitcher, was a real person. And it is also true that she did sometimes sew flags. But the story about Washington and the first (or, sometimes, second) flag ever created is entirely unsupported by evidence, and was not mentioned by anyone until a century after Ross died.
It's something of a shame that so much attention was directed toward figures who probably didn't warrant it, as there were actually plenty of real women of real achievement in that era who could have (more justly) filled the same purpose. One such woman, and we've been intending to write about her for quite a while, for reasons that will soon become evident, is Ann Smith Franklin.
Even if readers do not recognize her, they undoubtedly recognize the last name, and so would probably guess that she was related to Founding Parent Benjamin Franklin. Indeed, she was; she was wife to Ben's older brother James, and was therefore Ben's sister-in-law. Many readers may know Ben's story well enough to know that he learned the printing trade as an apprentice to James, and then ran away to Philadelphia before his term of indenture was legally concluded. While in the City of Brotherly Love, Ben founded his own, wildly successful, printing operation, and became America's first media tycoon.
James was certainly a capable tradesman, and he was no slouch as a businessman. However, there was a marked difference between the brothers when it came to their political instincts. Ben certainly had strong ideas, but he was careful to read the room, as it were, and not to step on the wrong toes at the wrong time. James was, uh... more outspoken. Truth be told, he was basically his era's version of Robert F. Kennedy Jr. James was prone to conspiratorial thinking, and used his newspaper to rail against the alleged collusion going on between the Massachusetts legislature and pirates lurking around Newport, RI. He was also anti-vaxx, and said that smallpox inoculation was the work of Satan (no mention of it causing autism... but only because that condition was not yet known).
There was no guarantee of freedom of the press back then, so James' strong words caused him to be jailed for a while. Thereafter, it was made clear that Boston was not the place for him, if he wanted to stay out of jail. So, he and Ann fled to Rhode Island, where they set up the first printing press, and therefore the first publishing outfit, in the state. Back then, printers generally had to be jacks-of-all-trades to keep the business going. So, James and Ann took in jobs from private businesses (handbills, advertising posters, etc.). They published a newspaper, the Rhode Island Gazette. And they also published A Perpetual Almanac.
Identifying Ann's exact contributions to these projects is a tricky business. First, things like staff boxes and bylines were still many decades in the future, and to the extent that anything WAS signed, pseudonyms were generally used (e.g., Ben's "Poor Richard"). Further, because Newport was on the smaller side, population-wise (about 5,000 people), and because James and Ann did not achieve the level of historical notoriety that Ben did, many fewer of their publications have survived to the present day. For example, there is only one known copy of A Perpetual Almanac in existence.
It is beyond all doubt, however, that Ann helped with sales and editing. Further, because printing was done with small, individual, lead-type letters, typesetting was nearly always done by women or children because of their smaller hands. When A Perpetual Almanac was printed, the Franklins did not have children old enough for that task, so Ann certainly did the work, while also maintaining a household (a monumental task, in those pre-modern-convenience times).
James died in 1735, leaving Ann with little in the way of money, and four children under the age of 10 to support. She did have the printing press, which was still the only one in all of Rhode Island, so she just kept going as she had while her husband was alive. She managed to secure the contract to handle all the printing needed by the Rhode Island legislature. She published American editions of popular novels from England, such as Fair Rosamond (1746). She also revived the second almanac that she and her husband had founded, Rhode Island Almanac. These things made her the first woman printer in America; she was even listed as "printer" in the membership list of her congregation (it was VERY unusual at that time for a woman to be listed as anything unrelated to her domestic status).
For close to 15 years, Ann ran the print shop, aided by her daughters. James Jr., her only son, was sent to Philadelphia to finish his schooling, and then to apprentice with Uncle Ben (Franklin, not the racially tinged rice mascot). When James Jr. finally returned to Newport, he and his mother entered into a partnership, under the name "James and Ann Franklin." Together, they founded the Newport Mercury, which is still being published today. This probably made Ann the first woman newspaper publisher in American history, and it definitely made her the first woman newspaper editor. On top of that, the Mercury did not discriminate on the basis of race, and so became the first publication in America to feature verse from a Black, female poet (Phillis Wheatley).
As she reached her mid-fifties, which is AARP-eligibility age even now, and was quite old back then, Ann handed off many of the responsibilities of the business to her son (though she remained active in editing the Mercury). When James Jr. passed in 1762, however, Ann returned to full-time work, eventually taking on Samuel Hall (who may, or may not, have been her son-in-law) as a partner. It was Samuel who wrote and published Ann's obituary when she passed away on April 16, 1763:
The 19th Instant departed this life, Mrs. ANN FRANKLIN, in the 68th year of her Life. She had a fine Constitution, firm and strong; was never sick, nor ailing, scarcely in the whole Course of her Life, 'till a few Months before her Dissolution; nor did she ever take any sort of Medicine in all that long Space of Time, 'till that Sickness seized her, which brought her down to the Grave. When she reflected, in Health, on the Goodness of her Constitution, she was at a Loss to guess what Part would be attack'd by Sickness in order to bring on her Dissolution. But in her we see an Instance of the Truth of that Word, "The strong Men shall bow themselves." She was a Widow about 29 years. And tho' she had little to depend upon for a Living, yet by her economy and Industry in carrying on the Printing Business, supported herself and Family, and brought up her Children in a genteel Manner; all of whom she bury'd sometime before her Death. She was a Woman of great Integrity and Uprightness in her Station and Conversation, and was well beloved in the Town. She was a faithful Friend, and a compassionate Benefactor to the Poor (beyond many of great Estates) and often reliev'd them in the Extremity of Winter. And, she was a constant and seasonable Attendant on public Worship, and would not suffer herself to be detain'd by trivial Family Concerns: Herein she excell'd most of her Sex.
She enter'd into the Christian Life in her early Youth, and has, ever since, adorn'd her Profession by an exemplary Conversation. And, under all the varying Scenes of Life, and some shocking Trials laid on her in the Wisdom of divine Providence, she maintain'd a noble Fortitude of Mind, mixt with Patience and Submission to the Will of God; though not without Imperfection.
Ann did not live to see this, of course, but during the Revolutionary War, British soldiers targeted the printing press that was being used to print the Mercury, which was the same one that both Ann and James had used through their entire career as printers (it was bought by James, in London, in 1717). So, the redcoats disassembled it and buried it. After the war, it was dug up, and put back to work printing the Mercury. Today, along with nearly everything else extant that relates to the life of the "First Lady of Rhode Island Journalism," the press is in the collection of the Rhode Island Historical Society.
Anyhow, this is a good time to write about something like this, because Donald Trump can try to rewrite the past as feel-good, white man history, but he will fail, sooner or later (almost certainly sooner). The past is a vast and complicated tapestry, and just as you cannot successfully display only, say, the red threads in an actual tapestry, you cannot successfully display only the white, male, straight, Protestant threads in the historical tapestry.
We know, of course, that we just did Learned Hand a couple of weeks ago. And it is not our intent to turn this feature into Profiles in Courage, the sequel. However, as we note above, we've been intending to write this item for a pretty long time, and just didn't have the chance. You know, the best laid plans of mice and men, and all that.
Why did we intend to write this item? Well, for the last couple of years (roughly), we have turned over most of the daily error-correcting, as well as a few other tasks along those lines, to a very capable former student of (Z)'s (a student from many years ago, mind you) named Sari Kaufman. Note that she is NOT the Sari Kaufman who went to high school in Florida, was part of the Parkland mass shooting, and is now a gun control activist. Our Sari Kaufman is, like (Z), a California native.
When Sari first joined the team, we told her to sign e-mails from (V) and (Z), since she was acting on our behalf anyhow. The idea was that she would eventually choose a nom de plume, and we would formally introduce her, and then she could sign as herself. She made her pick, but until today, we didn't take care of our part of the plan. Now, however, when folks who send corrections get a response signed (A), they will know who that is (both as a staffer of our site, and as a historical figure). (A) will also answer the occasional Saturday question once in a while, including one tomorrow.
Have a good weekend, all! (Z)