Emily Howland and the Woolsey Sisters: Unsung Heroines of Reform and War

Abolition, Education, and Service—The Women Who Shaped a Nation

Forward; My wife, Evelyn Clark, the author of this article, is a direct descendant of Emily Howland. She has been conducting ancestry research for 15 years and has written numerous articles, though they remain unpublished. Her dedication to uncovering family history has deepened her understanding of the remarkable contributions of Emily Howland and the Woolsey sisters—women whose influence on abolition, education, and wartime service deserves greater recognition. In this article, she sheds light on their enduring legacy and the vital roles they played in shaping history.

WOMEN OF NOTE

Many years before the Gilded Age, there were women who made major contributions to American life. One woman whose life exemplified a life well-lived was Emily Howland. On November 20, 1827, Slocum and Hannah Howland, prominent members of the Society of Friends, welcomed the birth of their daughter Emily. Their older child, William, would go on to serve in the 106th New York Legislature. He married Hannah Letchworth and was the father of five children. The first three little boys died of scarlet fever within a few days of one another. Their only daughter, Isabel, was born a year later. Hannah’s last child, Herbert, born in 1862, was a welcomed surprise. As an adult, he lived mostly in Paris, where he had trained as an artist.

At an early age, the Howland children learned that their family played a pivotal role in the Underground Railroad, assisting more than one hundred escaped slaves to reach Canada. As a young woman, Emily put her abolitionist beliefs into practice. For three years, she taught African American girls at the Normal School for Colored Girls. The curriculum included life skills and teacher preparation. Within the first three months, enrollment increased from six students to forty, despite hostility from a portion of the community. The anger was based on a belief that Black people weren’t citizens and thus weren’t entitled to a public education. The school continued to prosper with assistance from the Quakers and a gift from Harriet Beecher Stowe, who donated a thousand-dollar royalty she received from publishing Uncle Tom’s Cabin.

Unfortunately, opposition to the school increased, forcing it to move four times in the first three years. Assistance came from two African American sisters who housed the school on their property. Fearing that their Black families could be kidnapped and returned to their owners, the sisters armed themselves. In 1861, the Union Army and the U.S. Congress determined that once escaped slaves landed behind Union lines, they wouldn’t be returned to their masters. They would be classified as “contraband of war” or captured enemy property. At the end of the Civil War, in the District of Columbia, there were one hundred camps housing former slaves.

Emily taught reading and writing at one such camp. Besides teaching, she worked fifteen hours a day during a smallpox epidemic, tending to the sick. From 1864 to 1866, she served as the director of Camp Todd in Arlington, Virginia. Part of her work involved seeking donations. It became a daily ritual for Emily to contact friends and relatives, asking for money or supplies of food and clothing. Emily even wrote to Mrs. Lincoln, asking for a two-hundred-dollar donation. The First Lady consulted the president, who increased the amount to three hundred dollars.

In 1867, Emily’s father, Slocum Howland, deeded four hundred acres to her. She used the gift to start a community for freed slaves. When Slocum died in 1881, she inherited fifty thousand dollars. Emily used those funds to support fifty schools for emancipated Black individuals. Emily was keenly interested in women’s suffrage and world peace. She and her friends also supported the temperance movement. They knew that it was poor women and children who suffered when a husband drank away his entire paycheck.

In 1903, Emily traveled to London to attend an international suffrage meeting. While there, she was invited by Queen Victoria’s daughter, Princess Louise, a proponent of women’s rights, to have tea with her mother. Though the Queen didn’t favor women voting, she admired Emily’s work on behalf of slaves. The following year, Miss Howland was invited to speak to Congress regarding suffrage. She made a powerful argument, saying that women are in charge of their homes yet have no power to address political issues of health and safety, which greatly affected them and their children.

Throughout her life, Emily counted among her friends individuals who had a profound effect on American life. To name a few, these were Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglass, Susan B. Anthony, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Without exception, those who knew her found her to be generous and self-effacing. In 2020, a photo album was found among Emily’s belongings. It contained a photo of Harriet Tubman as a young woman. Previously, all images of Harriet had been of an older woman. The photograph was donated to the Library of Congress.

Part of Emily’s Quaker faith involved being a pacifist. She worked tirelessly prior to the Great War, trying to convince legislators not to enter the conflict. After the war, she was involved in supporting the League of Nations. At age ninety-two, she cast her very first vote in a national election. She remained mentally alert and interested in all the world had to offer until her death at age 101.

Much has been written about Emily Howland’s female cousins who made a major contribution to the Civil War. Their story begins with Charles William Woolsey marrying Jane Newton in 1827. Their first daughter, Abby, was born eleven months after the wedding. She was followed by Jane in 1830, Mary in 1832, Georganna (called Georgy) in 1834, Eliza in 1835, Harriet in 1837, and Caroline in 1838.

On January 13, 1840, Charles was invited to celebrate his brother Edward’s wedding. After the party ended, he was encouraged to stay the night but declined, saying he had never spent a night away from his wife. He would take the steamer Lexington on the Long Island Sound to New Haven, Connecticut. When he boarded, the temperature was ten degrees below zero. The vessel was filled with one hundred bales of cotton. A fire started, which immediately turned into an inferno. Aboard were one hundred forty-four passengers and thirty crew members. Only four individuals survived. Sadly, Charles Woolsey wasn’t one of them. It was never known whether he died from his burns or drowned. The vessel had been owned by Cornelius Vanderbilt, touted as the fastest and most luxurious steamer in the fleet.

After Charles’s death, it was his brother Edward who became devoted to the Woolsey girls and to the baby, Charles, born five months after his father’s death. Even though their father had been a successful sugar merchant, the Woolsey children needed to rely on their small inheritance and assistance from relatives to maintain a standard of living even approximating what they had enjoyed before he died. Still, there was no extra money for the sisters to be fashionably dressed. Clothes were restyled and passed from one sister to another. The only person whose wardrobe even approximated having new clothes was their brother.

The mother, Jane Newton Woolsey, was in her teens when she witnessed a slave auction of adults, toddlers, and infants. Jane was sickened by the sight. She vowed that her children would have a deep concern for others. Their upbringing would expose them to poetry, the arts, public affairs, and charity.

At the start of the Civil War, the seven Woolsey daughters and their brother Charles lived together. It was a Sunday afternoon when Uncle Edward called the sisters together to tell them that the War Department had issued a call for nurses. Georgy was the first to declare an interest in applying. She learned that Elizabeth Blackwell, the first woman to be accepted into an American medical school, was going to establish a brigade of trained nurses. Miss Georgy Woolsey found herself among one hundred young women applying for the class. She wrote in her diary, “The interview process was grueling. The panel of doctors was made up of middle-aged white men, sitting ramrod straight, dressed severely in black. Their questions to me fluctuated from patronizing to insulting.”

During the interview, Georgy, who had never been known to quell her tongue, found it difficult to be polite. She was asked to defend her college education, her family having two servants, her European travels, and her ability to speak four languages. In the end, she wasn’t sure she would be accepted. Her anxiety was compounded by having to convince her mother that nursing wasn’t a dangerous occupation. Georgy was surprised and pleased when she learned that both she and her sister Eliza had gained a place in the first nurses’ training class taught by Dr. Blackwell. It was a month of grueling work, with classes beginning before sunrise.

At the completion of their training, Abby and Georgy received a telegram ordering them to join other nurses serving in the Sanitary Commission aboard a hospital ship. Once there, they learned that the wounded were taken from the battlefield and transported to the ship. Besides treating dysentery caused by poor hygiene and lack of food, they treated traumatic wounds. On more than one occasion, Georgy found herself at odds with a physician who wanted to amputate a limb rather than try to save it. Abby was sickened by the lack of hospital hygiene. Many of the ward nurses were uneducated, barely able to read. Handwashing was a totally foreign concept. Staff had no understanding of why dirty towels and used bandages shouldn’t be reused.

Georgy and Abby helped form a Women’s Auxiliary. They visited hospitals, giving assistance wherever they could. They vowed to make changes in hospitals. They knew that an injured soldier had no hope of recovery if he contracted sepsis. Jane enrolled in a hospital management class to learn how hospitals could be more efficiently run. She was so brilliant at applying hospital maintenance techniques that the Fairfax Seminary Hospital made her Superintendent of Nursing. Meanwhile, her older sister Abby was writing scholarly papers about establishing appropriate hospital care. She was also creating the Bellevue Hospital Nurses Training School.

Besides their nursing duties, the sisters and their mother wanted to do more. They gathered fifty women from well-connected New York City families to form the Women’s Association of Relief. The purpose was to oversee the care and well-being of troops. This was done by fundraising and gathering supplies from friends and family. Those gifts provided soldiers with items that made their life on the frightening battlefield more bearable. In addition to clothing, the men received note paper, pencils, pens, ink, potted meats, sardines, jam, pins, needles, and perhaps a bit of chocolate.

The third sister, Mary, was described by her mother as lovely, with a quiet voice and winning smile. At age eighteen, she married Reverend Robert Shaw Howland. He was the only Howland son not involved in commerce. Instead, he became a well-known minister and father of four little girls. Mary was the family poet. She wrote verses about a soldier’s longing for home. Her verses were extremely popular and were sold to benefit the war effort. Mary Woolsey Howland was thirty-two years old when she died of typhus, leaving four young children. Robert never remarried. His mother-in-law and Mary’s sisters were loving aunts, always ready to offer assistance and advice.

Georgy was the rebellious daughter. Yearly, since she was nineteen years old, Dr. Frank Bacon would propose marriage. Fearful of becoming a subservient wife, she routinely refused his offer. At age thirty-two, Georgy served with Dr. Bacon on a hospital ship. She was moved by Frank’s compassion for the wounded. It was then she realized that she loved him. The next time a marriage proposal was made, it was by her. She found Dr. Bacon to be a supportive and loving partner. Additionally, life with her wealthy doctor allowed her to pursue philanthropic projects.

The fifth Woolsey daughter was Eliza. In 1855, she married Joseph Howland. The next year, they traveled extensively in Europe and the Holy Land. In 1859, they bought a large estate in upstate New York, which they named Ticonderoga, a Native American word meaning “melting of the waters.” The mansion was revolutionary for its time, as it had steam heat. The home’s lighting was accomplished by gas produced on the property. Eliza’s life was committed to doing for others. The Howlands often hosted musical extravaganzas featuring their colossal pipe organ, which took up two entire floors. Guests were charged a small fee, given to benefit Union soldiers.

At the first sign of war, Joseph joined the New York State 16th Volunteers. Initially, he served as adjutant and later as chief of staff for General Anderson. Howland was an impressive soldier who was shortly promoted to colonel. Unfortunately, his new status was short-lived. On June 29, 1863, he was shot in the thigh by a Confederate soldier. Colonel Howland refused medical treatment, staying with his men until the end of the battle. He was cited for bravery and promoted to brevet general. The official army report stated that the wound disabled him for a few weeks. In reality, the injury ended his military career.

He briefly returned to active duty during the draft riots. The furor was brought about because impoverished young men were being asked to do military service while the wealthy paid others to take their place. Not all the rioters had issues with the draft. Some were Irish immigrants who blamed African Americans for taking their jobs. Their rage took the form of burning Black churches. A Black orphanage was attacked. Several children died before the fire was extinguished. Wealthy white families were also attacked, and their homes torched. Joseph Howland organized a band of military men and citizens to deal with the chaos. After the emergency ended, he returned to civilian life, serving as New York State Treasurer.

Besides his physical injuries, Joseph had PTSD, a condition that led him to be interested in learning about mental illness. He and Eliza became committed to improving the lives of the mentally ill. To this end, they founded the Hudson State Hospital for the Insane. Their philanthropy also funded a library, a Presbyterian church, and a medical hospital. Joseph commissioned his brother-in-law, Richard Morris Hunt, to design all three buildings. In 1885, Joseph and Eliza returned to the south of France. They felt the warmer climate would be beneficial to his health. The next year, Howland’s health worsened. In April of 1886, he was fifty-two years old when he fell into a coma and died.

After his death, Eliza never returned to Ticonderoga. It held too many memories. Shortly before her death in 1915, she sold the property to psychiatrist Dr. Jonathan Slocum. Originally known as Slocum Sanatorium, he renamed it Craig House. The title came from a psychiatric facility in Scotland. They believed that patients living in a family environment were more likely to make a full recovery. That philosophy was replicated at his Craig House. The treatments were expensive, catering to wealthy New Yorkers. The guest rooms were opulent, and the dining room served gourmet fare. In 1935, Forbes magazine described Craig House as one of the best sanatoriums in America. Notable guests included Zelda Fitzgerald, Marilyn Monroe, Rosemary Kennedy, and Frances Ford Seymour, who was Jane Fonda’s mother.

Harriet was the sixth Woolsey sister. She was twenty-five and considered a spinster when she married Dr. Hugh Lenox Hodge. He had followed his father in pioneering gynecological treatments. Harriet, like her sisters, was deeply committed to furthering the war effort. She turned every social event into an opportunity to solicit funds. Her own closet and attic weren’t spared. Sheets were turned into bandages, and blankets were given to the army hospital. Her husband supported her efforts. He was, however, heard to say that he didn’t want to open the linen cupboard, as he feared it would be empty. It’s not clear what caused Harriet’s death at age forty-one. Her husband didn’t remarry. She was the second Woolsey sister to die at a young age.

Caroline was the youngest of the Woolsey daughters; she had been barely two years old when her father died. She was deeply concerned about the welfare of Civil War soldiers and their families. In 1867, she was twenty-nine years old when she married attorney Edward Mitchell. He and Caroline were perfectly matched. Both were abolitionists. Despite Edward’s wealth and his social connections, he was not included in Mrs. Astor’s Four Hundred. He was, however, a member of many of New York City’s most prestigious clubs. Edward and Caroline’s granddaughter, Caroline Woolsey Ferriday, would continue the Woolsey legacy of altruism. She was known for her efforts during World War II to bring America’s attention to the plight of Polish women subjected to medical experimentation by Nazis at Ravensbrück Concentration Camp. She brought thirty-five of their survivors to the United States to undergo reconstructive surgery.

The youngest Woolsey child was Charles, born shortly after his father’s death. As a child, he was fortunate that his uncle Edward was a surrogate parent. His mother and sisters were also a great influence on his character. From all reports, they did a good job. Charles was affable, a loyal friend, and an honest businessman. He was twenty-three years old when he enlisted as a second lieutenant and, within a few months, was promoted to first lieutenant. He had many near-life-ending misses. However, none was as life-threatening as when his horse was shot out from underneath him. In 1866, his sister Caroline introduced him to the lovely Arixene Smith. Her father was a renowned Congregational theologian. The courtship was brief; both Charles and Arixene were anxious to marry and start their family. They were married the next year.