Abigail Adams called the role of first lady, or “presidentess,” as the president’s wife was known in the early days of the republic, “splendid misery.” Martha Washington referred to herself as a “state prisoner.” And Louisa Adams (wife of John Quincy Adams) wrote, “How much direction and discernment it requires to be the wife of a great man.”
Being the wife of any man in the days of the Founding Fathers wasn’t easy, but it was especially galling for the wives of the political elite, writes Cokie Roberts in “Ladies of Liberty.” The women were expected to be ornaments at their husbands’ side, throw parties and entertain guests with barely a moment’s notice. Dolly Madison once had to provide for 50 unexpected overnight visitors.
The women were not allowed to vote, of course, and marriage gave husbands the rights to anything a woman owned. In fact, women’s charities generally elected an unmarried woman as treasurer, to keep a married treasurer’s husband from claiming the group’s money.
Dependency didn’t keep the women from having to take responsibility. The wives of diplomats, such as the first Mrs. Adams, often were left behind to oversee the family property and raise the children while their husbands went abroad.
And the second Mrs. Adams had to leave her sons with her in-laws for six years while she followed her husband to his post in Russia. Louisa Adams made a harrowing trip by herself from Russia to Paris during the Napoleonic years and arrived not to her husband’s welcoming arms but to an empty apartment. John Quincy had gone to the theater.
It’s not surprising that the men depreciated women’s experiences. Thomas Jefferson, whose own wife died from childbirth, wrote his pregnant daughter that giving birth was little more than a bump on the elbow. Diplomat John Marshall, who sallied forth to Paris leaving his pregnant wife and three children behind, demanded that his wife tell him she wasn’t bitter, and later, he wrote about the women he met. “Just what she wanted to read,” observes Roberts.
National Public Radio’s Roberts weaves a colorful story of the trials and triumphs of the women of the post-Revolution by quoting letters, journals and other documents written by and about women. Most of the women are well-known, such as the puritanical scold Abigail Adams, who was furious at being asked to attend a celebration of George Washington’s birthday. Dolley Madison was universally loved, and without his wife’s masterful politicking at brilliant dinners and soirees, James Madison probably wouldn’t have been elected president. Pity was, she was competent enough to be president herself, but, of course, that would never do.
According to Roberts, the social scene these women dominated was a complex one that was just evolving in the new nation. Which woman called first and who sat next to whom at dinner parties were questions of political importance. When Jefferson failed to escort the wife of the British ambassador to dinner, the British snubbed America’s envoys in England. That was the sort of power women wielded.
“Ladies of Liberty” is not only informative but entertaining, thanks to Roberts, whose parents, Hale and Lindy Boggs, were both members of Congress. She’s a keen political observer, as well as a feminist, whose remarks enliven the text.
For instance, Roberts quotes a woman advocating equal education for girls and boys, a woman who writes, “while we are pursuing the needle, or the superintendency of the family . . . our minds are at full liberty for reflection.” Then Roberts adds, “What a concept, women could do housework and think at the same time!”
Grammar doesn’t get its due these days. Still, it’s a pity that an editor didn’t catch the dozens of misplaced modifiers in “Ladies of Liberty.” They result in ludicrous sentences and spoil an otherwise worthwhile book.
Sandra Dallas is a Denver novelist who writes a regular column on new regional nonfiction.
Nonfiction
Ladies of Liberty, by Cokie Roberts, $26.95
