Frances Margaret Fox

With assistance from Hannah Jenkins, Clarke Historical Library student worker

Frances Margaret (Madge) Fox was born June 23, 1870 in South Farmington, Massachusetts. Tragically, her mother died two weeks after giving birth to Frances. Her father remarried and moved the family to Mackinac City, Michigan, where he became a railroad dispatcher. Frances’ childhood was difficult; there were reports of beatings and other mistreatment. In spite of these hardships, Frances grew to love the Mackinac area.

The course of Frances’s life changed when she met the Joslyns, a family from Bay City, Michigan who summered in the Mackinac area. The family showed great kindness toward her. Frances eventually moved to Bay City to live with the Joslyn family, working for Lee Joslyn, Sr. as a secretary. She created many entertaining stories for the Joslyn children, Lee and Alan. These stories later became the foundation of her writing.

Encouraged by the writer William Thomson[1], Frances began to write down her stories and submit them for publication. In 1901 Frances published her first book for children, Farmer Brown and the Birds. Other books soon followed. Frances published fifty-one books and countless articles for magazines during her writing career. When the income from her writing permitted, Frances moved back to Mackinac City, eventually building a stone house on the Straits of Mackinac that she named “Happy Landing.” She was well known in the area for her smile and her kind words to others. As a treat for the local Mackinac children, Frances created the Sunshine Club and for years invited neighborhood children into her home to drink lemonade and share stories. Often she would give her stories a trial run by reading her manuscripts aloud to the Sunshine Club before sending them to her publisher.

For many years Frances spent summers in Mackinac and winters in Washington D.C., conducting research for her writings at the Library of Congress. Her notes reflect her intellectual curiosity; she researched topics such as forest animals, flowers, and famous people from Michigan’s early history. She was one of very few researchers of her time  allowed access to the stacks in the Library of Congress.

The Frances Margaret Fox Papers at the Clarke Historical Library contain hundreds of her stories, as well as her journals, research notes and letters. In the collection there is a handwritten version of the first Little Bear story, her most well-known series of books. Little Bear and his family were based on the characters found in the children’s classic Goldilocks and the Three Bears. A small, transcribed segment of this hand-made Little Bear book is posted below.

Frances died on March 1, 1959. Her last request was to be cremated and to have her ashes deposited in her beloved Straits of Mackinac, a request fulfilled by Alan Joslyn, her lifelong friend. Her remains were scattered from the beach of her favorite home, “Happy Landing.”

   

 

[1] William Thomson was a fellow Bay City, Michigan resident who heard of Frances’ stories, and one day took it upon himself to stop Frances on the street to say, “I am astounded that you have kept your talent hidden so long.” He encouraged her to seek publication of her stories. Thomson was the author of Great Cats I Have Met and other stories. See ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Frances Margaret Fox, 1942-November 1943 Diary, Frances Margaret Fox Papers, Clarke Historical Library, Mount Pleasant.

Transcription of the Original Little Bear

From the cover:

This is the original Little Bear

What Woke Baby Bear

(written for Laura aged three.)

Before the little bear learned to walked and long before Goldilocks ate his porridge, broke his chair and slept in his bed, the middle-sized bear used to rock him to sleep every day. She was an old fashioned kind of mother and loved to cuddle her baby bear, in her arms. She used to sit in the middle sized chair and rock and rock and rock, with the little bear in her arms and sing (to the tune of Hush my babe [illegible] still and slumber

Bye bye my little cub

Bye bye my little cub

Bye bye my little cub

Bye bye bye.

A Child’s Letter to Frances

Dear Miss Fox.

We like your book very much.

We got the book this morning.

I read it to Pat and she liked it.

It is a good bed time story.

 

 

 

 

Artwork by Illustrator Walt Harris

This ink sketch was drawn for Frances by Walt Harris, the illustrator of the Little Bear Stories. The text reads “Fox & Bear,” a humorous play on Frances’ last name and the character Little Bear. The drawing is initialed by Harris.

References

Dailey, Sheila. “Little Bear and Other Stories: A Look at the Life and Works of Michigan Children’s Author Frances Margaret Fox.” Great Lakes Review, 8, no. 1 (1982): 25-30.

Turner, Gordon. “Frances Margaret Fox.” The Cheboygan Observer, September 6, 1982.

Hannah Brown Bingham

Posted below you will find two entries from the 1829 diary of Hannah Bingham. She wrote them in July of that year, at the close of a very long journey, from Wheatland, in upstate New York, to Sault Ste. Marie at the eastern end of Lake Superior. On July 11th her party has just crossed Lake Huron and has entered the Saint Mary's River, which will lead to the American outpost at the Sault. Hannah has come to Sault Ste. Marie to be with her husband, the missionary Abel Bingham, and she will remain at the Sault for the next twenty-six years, making a home, raising a family, and laboring in the cause of the mission. Her husband, whom the Baptist Board of Foreign Missions had sent to Sault Ste. Marie the year before, had returned to New York that spring to escort his family to Michigan.

As the entries show, Hannah probably had a limited education. Her handwriting, almost impossible to transcribe in places, presents the editor with many problems. Her commonplace use of the word savage and the pity she directs toward "the poor outcasts" reflect the rhetoric of the period and the clear divisions of her world into the civilized and the uncivilized. On a national level those divisions were becoming ever more sharply defined in the heat of the political debate that would lead in 1830 to the passage of the Indian Removal Act. In contrast to the prosaic journal entries her husband recorded in his journal for the same period, Hannah's diary entries express not only a strong faith in her purpose but also express her fears and her feelings. She kept diaries from 1817 to 1868. Taken together, written from the perspective of an early missionary wife, those journals comprise a very special documentary collection.

A great-grandson of the Binghams, Duncan McKee, donated the Bingham Family Papers to the Clarke Library in 1962. The papers fill twenty-eight manuscript boxes. Over half of this collection pre-dates the Civil War. To appreciate ante-bellum Sault Ste. Marie one has to spend time with these papers. The Bentley Library at the University of Michigan also has a collection of Bingham papers and these include some of Hannah's diaries.

Hannah Bingham’s Diary, En route to Sault Ste. Marie

St. Mary’s River
Saturday July 11, 1829

After being tossed over the Huron for three days [we] came into the river yesterday morning, and now we are safly moored in this pleasant river not far from our long sought for home, where we can see mountains, rocks, and islands with their beautiful green, and the birds too are sweetly singing around on the shore. I have been considerably seasick but feeling in good spirits this morning. I have had two sleepless[1] nights, last evening especially, but generally have slept well. The appearance of the natives yesterday affected me considerably, though not so much from their savage looks as from the discription the Inhabitance gives of their being a barberous wicked people, but this is what I must expect. I may yet enjoy many a sweet hour with even the poor outcasts. The sweet morning comes and sweeps away gloom. The idea that God is calling us here and that He is evry where pressent makes our future prospects, even in this secluded spot, appear pleasant.

Sault Ste. Marie
Sunday July 12, 1829

Sabbath Evening. We came about a dozen miles yesterday in an open boat against the wind & tide and with some difficulty reached Ste Mary(s) a little before night. Mr. Hulbert[2] opened his doors to receive us. Although we had to leave many of our things & was not well prepared for the Sabbath, yet I felt happy & nothing troubled me. Our concerns for God had blessed us in bringing us safly to this heathen shore. Today is a beautiful one not a cloud is to be seen, but what makes it more beautiful is that it is Gods day & I have been permitted to go to His House for worship, first with the sitizens and then with the Indians. It was indeed a feeling time with me to see them flocking in to hear the gospel, and to see them so ignorant of the way of life and salvation affected my heart. Truly, I said with in my heart, the time to favour Zion is now a coming, and the poor Chipaway are about to receive the precious treasure.

[1] Hannah here uses the “long S,” which in early nineteenth century handwriting was used to write words that had a double “s.” The letter often looks like a modern day “f.”
[2] John Hulbert came to Michigan Territory on horseback in 1824, from Guilford, Connecticut. He established himself as a merchant at Sault Ste. Marie, where he held the positions of village postmaster and fort sutler. He married Maria Schoolcraft, a sister of Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, the Indian agent at the Sault. See Charles Moore, History of Michigan (Chicago: Lewis Publishing Company, 1915), 1:447-48n6; and Richard G. Bremer, Indian Agent and Wilderness Scholar: The Life of Henry Rowe Schoolcraft (Mount Pleasant: Clarke Historical Library, 1987), 102.

Hannah Bingham’s Diary

Abel Bingham’s Diary, July 11, 1829

“July 7th Tuesday got into Lake Huron and on Saturday 11th arrived at this place”

Vest Made by Hannah Bingham, 1822

 

Clarke Historical Library’s manuscript collections sometimes contain artifacts as well as documents. This handmade, small boy’s vest was found with Hannah Bingham’s diaries. It is possible that she made the vest for her son Judson, who was approximately two years old at the time. There is a tag sewn on the front of the vest, which reads, “This vest was made in 1822, by Hannah Brown Bingham. The cloth of the back was woven by her. It was made for a boy two years of age."

Content Note

Michigan in Letters exists as an informational and educational tool to provide access to and contextual interpretation of historical documents housed in the Clarke Historical Library. The documents posted here are records of the past, presented in their original form. As such, they sometimes contain attitudes and beliefs consistent with their own time period. Clarke Historical Library and Michigan in Letters do not endorse the views expressed in some of these collections, which may at times contain material that is offensive to some readers.

Sarah Emma Edmonds Seelye

Sarah Emma Edmonds Seelye was born in December, 1841, in New Brunswick, Canada. At age fifteen she ran away from home to escape a tyrannical father and an unwanted arranged marriage. After two years of living as a single woman, Sarah decided to pursue her fortune disguised as a man. Her travels as a Bible salesman brought her to Flint, Michigan, where she resided in 1861, at the start of the Civil War. After the fall of Fort Sumter, Sarah volunteered for the Union cause and under disguise she soldiered using the alias Franklin (Frank) Thompson. She joined the United States Army, Company F, Second Michigan Volunteer Infantry Regiment, in May of that year. Her militia unit was known as “Flint’s Union Greys.” She served in the Army as a field nurse, spy, soldier and mail carrier. After the war, she wrote her memoirs in a book entitled Nurse and Spy in the Union Army Comprising the Adventures and Experiences of a Woman in Hospitals, Camps and Battle-Fields, which was published in 1865.

In the letter transcribed here, Sarah gives great detail about an accident she suffered while carrying the mail between Washington and Centreville, Virginia, near where the Second Battle of Bull Run (or the Second Battle of Manassas) was about to take place. Colonel Orlando Poe had assigned her to be postmaster for the regiment, and she felt a great sense of urgency and duty about delivering the mail before the battle began. In the letter she is writing to her friend, R. H. Halsted, to give him a Statement of Facts about the accident so that he can write an affidavit to the government on her behalf. She had been receiving a Civil War pension of twelve dollars per month since 1884, and she needed the testimony of her friend in order to support her request for an increase in pension. At the end of the letter, Sarah talks about how she has suffered with her injuries, and states, “my entire left side from my head to my foot shows symtoms of paralysis, and it may be, that very soon, I shall not need a pension.” This haunting statement was unfortunately true, for it was only one year later, on September 5, 1898, at age 57, that Sarah passed away. She is buried in the GAR section of Washington Cemetery in Houston, Texas, with a limestone marker that says, “Emma E. Seelye, Army Nurse.”

Letter from Sarah Edmonds Seelye to Richard Halsted

La Porte, Texas

Sept. 6, 1897

My Kind Friend[1]

   I herein give you a Statement of facts in regard to the accident referred to in my letter. Said accident occurred on the day of the 2nd battle of Bull Run, while on my way with the mail, from Washington, to our troops near Centerville.[2]

   I was trying with all my might to reach Berry’s Brigade[3] before the battle commenced, and in order to do so, I took advantage of every near cut that I possibly could, by leaping fences and ditches instead of going a long way round.

   When I had accomplished about half the distance between Washington and Centerville, I saw a chance to cut off a mile or more, by leaving the road and taking a short cut, which I thought best to take advantage of, but after having gone a considerable distance from the road, I found myself confronted by a very wide ditch, which I attempted to cross; but instead of leaping across it my mule reared and fell headlong into it, and I was thrown with such force against the side of the ditch, that I was stunned and unable to escape further injury from the frantic efforts of the mule to extricate himself from such an unpleasant position.

   There was some water, and deep mud at the bottom of said ditch, and where the mule tried to get up, his feet stuck fast in the mud, and he would fall back and try again. Finally he succeeded in getting out, but how long I remained there I never knew, but the first sound that struck my ear was the booming of cannon, and the first thought that flashed across my brain was “The mail! The mail!”

   On crawling out of the ditch I realized that I had sustained severe injuries. I had no use of my left lower limb. I felt sure it was broken, and the intense pain in my left side, and breast, made me feel sick and faint; while the bare thought of the undelivered mail drove me almost frantic.

While my mind was thus taking in the situation, I was trying to creep towards the mule, which stood a few yards distant, patiently waiting for me. Notwithstanding my distressed condition I at once set about readjusting the saddle and mail bags, which now hung, mud bespattered, underneath the mule’s stomach; but how to get the mud off, and get on the mule’s back was the all important question. But after several ineffectual attempts to remount I finally succeeded, by making loops in a long rope halter, and fastening one end to the pummel of the saddle.

   I then started for the battlefield with the utmost speed that I could endure, and after extreme suffering I reached our troops, who had not yet become engaged in action, and after delivering the mail I went to the rear where I found Dr. Vickery,[4] with the hospital corps and ambulance.

I made no report of the accident, but simply said that I had hurt my leg and it was very painful, and asked him for something to rub on it to relieve the pain.

After the battle was over and the Army had gone into camp, I found myself in a more serious condition than when the accident occurred. I had received internal injuries which caused frequent hemorrhage from the lungs. But I dared not report the fact nor apply for medical treatment, for the very first thing would have been an examination of my lungs—which to me simply meant “dismissal from the Service.” Consequently I took the utmost pains to conceal the facts in the case and silently endured all the misery and distress which the unfortunate accident entailed upon me, rather than to be sent away from the army under guard like a criminal.

   Had it not been for you, and two other boys—Sam Houlton[5] and Robert Bostwick[6]—I probably should have died in my tent. Notwithstanding I was so lame I could not put my left foot to the ground, I would not give up but persisted in going after the mail, but when I returned I had three dear friends to take the burdens from my shoulders. You distributed the mail for me, sold my watches,[7] collected and took care of my money. Bostwick brought my meals to my tent, and Sam always had some new healing remedies for my wounds and bruises. God bless you all!

   Four years ago, when I had an application filed for increase of pension my left lower limb was bandaged from the ankle to the knee, and I had not been able to wear a shoe, proper, on it for over two years—and my left side from the waist to the collarbone I had to keep covered with porous plasters, to enable me to breathe with any degree of comfort. Thank heaven, I am much better now, than I was then, in many respects; but my entire left side from my head to my foot show symtoms of paralysis, and it may be, that very soon, I shall not need a pension.

With my Kindest regards

to you & family I am

Yours Fraternally

S. Emma E. Seelye

---

[1] Richard H. Halsted grew up in Genesee County and enlisted in the Michigan Second Infantry at Flint on April 23, 1861. Twenty-three at the time, he eventually rose to the rank of sergeant. He was taken prisoner at Campbell’s Station, Tennessee, on Nov. 16, 1863, but he returned to the regiment June 4, 1864, a month before he was mustered out of the army at Detroit. In 1897 Edmonds wrote to him and asked him to help her secure an increase in her pension from the government, something he agreed to do. She sent him her “statement of facts” on September 6, 1897. Halsted died at Concord, Michigan, in 1903. See Record of Service of Michigan Volunteers in the Civil War 1861-1865, vol. 2, Second Michigan Infantry (Kalamazoo: Ihling Bros. & Everard, 190?), 81; hereafter, Record: Second Michigan Infantry.

[2] Centreville, Virginia. The Second Battle of Bull Run took place between August 28th and 30th, 1862. Robert E. Lee defeated General John Pope’s Army of Virginia. Pope’s forces retreated to Centreville. For more on the battle see John J. Hennessy, Return to Bull Run: The Campaign and Battle of Second Manassas (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1993).

[3] Col. Hiram G. Berry of Maine distinguished himself in the battles of Bull Run and Williamsburg. He was made brigadier-general on March 20, 1862 and was assigned command of the Third Brigade, which at the time consisted of the 2nd, 3rd, and 5th Michigan, and the 37th New York regiments. Edmond’s regiment was part of Berry’s Brigade, Kearny’s Division, Heintzelman’s Corps. At the Second Battle of Bull Run Lieutenant Colonel Louis Dillman commanded Edmond’s regiment. See Record: Second Michigan Infantry, 4, 7; also, Charles P. Mattocks, “Major-General Hiram G. Berry,” in the Collections of the Maine Historical Society, 3rd ser., vol.1 (Portland: Maine Historical Society, 1904), 162-86.

[4] Richard S. Vickery enlisted in the Second Infantry at Ft. Wayne on May 17, 1861 and was wounded in action on July 30, 1864. Thirty years old when he enlisted, he remained in the service long after the Civil War, rising to the rank of major and surgeon and serving as the surgeon of the Soldiers’ Home, Virginia. He retired in 1895. Record: Second Michigan Infantry, 176-77.

[5] In 1861 Samuel M. Holton, age twenty-three, enlisted in the Union Army in Battle Creek, his hometown, joining Company C, Second Infantry. He served as hospital steward and was connected with the hospital department from the time the regiment was organized, suggesting how Edmonds, who worked as a nurse, came to know him. He was taken prisoner at Savage Station, Virginia, on June 25, 1862, because he refused to leave his patients when the army left the hospital in the hands of the Confederates. He was exchanged four months later. Honorably discharged in 1865, he was still living in Battle Creek in the early 1900s. Record: Second Michigan Infantry, 91.

[6] Three Bostwicks enlisted in the Second Infantry—Dana, Lafayette, and Robert. Dana died “from wounds received in action, Nov. 24, 1863.” Robert died in prison at Andersonville, Georgia, on June 18, 1864. Lafayette, who was also wounded in action, but is listed as living in Pontiac, Michigan in the early 1900s, is the soldier to whom Edmonds is referring. In her letter to Richard Halsted, dated January 27, 1885, she writes “I wrote to Bostwick, and the enclosed is his reply.” They must have been close friends from the beginning; both enlisted in Flint in late May 1862. Lafayette Bostwick was discharged from service at Detroit on July 21, 1864. See Record: Second Michigan Infantry, 37-8; Emma E. Seelye to Richard H. Halsted, 27 January 1885, S. Emma E. Edmonds Papers, Clarke Historical Library, Central Michigan University.

[7] The meaning of “sold my watches” is unclear.

Sarah Edmonds Seelye Letter Image

  

 

Commentary on the Seelye Letter

There are different methods of transcription. The editors of Michigan in Letters employ a conservative style of expanded transcription—the aim being to make the documents as easy to understand as possible without introducing changes of content or meaning. For clarity, minor textual changes are introduced in the transcriptions. These include: a standard form for datelines, salutations, and closings; standard paragraph breaks (paragraphs are separated by a line); capitalization of the first letter of each sentence; and standard terminal punctuation at the end of each sentence. Edmonds, for example, uses semi-colons or dashes to end complete sentences, the editors use periods. Missing words, when obvious, are supplied in brackets, and interlinear insertions are silently brought into the text. Words unintentionally repeated and words crossed out, if they don’t carry significant meaning, are silently emended (for example, Edmond’s “asked him for something to rub on it” is transcribed “asked for something to rub on it”). Otherwise, if not confusing to the reader, original punctuation, capitalization, and spellings are retained (Edmond’s “symtoms”—in “my foot shows symtoms of paralysis”—is retained).

Edmond’s letters to R. H. Halsted were given to the Clarke Historical Library in 1964 by Halsted’s grandson Kilbourne H. Snow. There are seven letters altogether. As part of the donation, the library also received a scrapbook Halsted kept, which contains newspaper clippings about Edmonds.

Further Reading on Sarah Emma Edmunds Seelye

Edmonds, S. Emma E. Nurse and Spy in the Union Army : Comprising the Adventures and Experiences of a Woman in Hospitals, Camps, and Battle-fields. Hartford: W. S. Williams & Company, 1865.

Fladeland, Betty. “New Light on Sarah Emma Edmonds, Alias Franklin Thompson.” Michigan History 47 (December 1963): 357-62. Recently reissued online http://www.michiganhistorymagazine.com/extra/2009/julyaug/sarah_edmonds.html (accessed July 15, 2009).

Pferdehirt, Julia. “Sarah Emma Edmonds 1841-1898: Soldier, Nurse, and Spy in the 2nd Michigan Infantry.” In More Than Petticoats: Remarkable Michigan Women. Guilford, Conn: Morris Book Publishing, 2007.Stevens, Bryna. Frank Thompson: Her Civil War Story. New York : Macmillan Pub. Co., 1992.

About Documentary Editing

The editing of historical documents has been practiced in the United States for over two hundred years. Little was done to record the methods of documentary editors, however, until the 1970s when the Association for Documentary Editing (ADE) was established. Before that time, editors embarking on new projects could find little to guide their efforts. The ADE has provided a forum for editors where they can exchange ideas and discuss standards of editorial practice. A relatively small organization with less than three hundred members, the ADE today remains dedicated to the highest standards of professional editing. The editors who established the ADE typically worked on large university-based editorial projects, such as the Documentary History of the Ratification of the Constitution Project at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. But that is no longer the case necessarily. Technology is changing the documentary editing field and changing it rapidly. The internet affords anyone the opportunity to place documents online, and many individuals and small institutions are doing so, unaware of the assistance available from the ADE. They are also often unaware of the direction to be found in publications like Mary-Jo Kline and Susan Holbrook Perdue's A Guide to Documentary Editing, now in its third edition; or Beth Luey's Editing Documents and Texts: An Annotated Bibliography; or Michael E. Stevens and Steven B. Burg's helpful Editing Historical Documents: A Handbook of Practice. For anyone involved in a documentary editing project, from a family historian with a small collection of letters to publish, to an editor of the correspondence of a major literary figure, the ADE will prove to be a valuable resource. It is well worth exploring: www.documentaryediting.org

About Michigan in Letters

Michigan in Letters highlights the manuscript collections of the Clarke Historical Library in a new way. Its purpose is to provide a vivid impression of the richness of the Clarke collections through the written words of interesting women and men from Michigan’s past. Visitors will find here images of actual letters and documents, samples selected from the thousands of manuscripts held by the Clarke. Introductory notes, edited transcriptions, annotations, and commentary on the editing of historical documents will accompany the selections. The blogging format of Michigan in Letters allows for inventive exchange, and visitors are invited to contribute comments and to ask questions. The Clarke Historical Library serves two communities: Central Michigan University and Clarke’s community of historically-minded patrons from outside the university. Michigan in Letters will appeal to both.