Runaway Husband

March 12

Carl Robert Keyes Daily Advert Update , , , , ,

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago this week?

New-York Journal (March 9, 1772).

“Her husband has absconded, to avoid the payment of his debts.”

It began as a standard “runaway wife” advertisement in the January 19, 1775, edition of the New-York Journal.  “WHEREAS my Wife Mary has lately eloped from me, and my perhaps endeavour to run me into Debt,” Morris Decamp proclaimed, “these are therefore to warn all Persons not to Trust or entertain her on my Account, as I will pay no Debts she may contract.”  That advertisement ran for four weeks, but not without going unnoticed or unanswered by Mary.

Most women who appeared in the public prints as the subject of such advertisements did not have the means or opportunity to respond.  Mary, however, did, perhaps with assistance from some of her relations.  Her own advertisement began its run in the March 2 edition of the New-York Journal, placing it before the eyes of the same readers who saw her husband’s missive.  She acknowledged that “the public would naturally be led to conclude, that she had in some respect or other misbehaved to her said husband” based on what they knew from his advertisement.  On the contrary, she asserted, she “always behaved as a faithful and dutiful wife to him.”  The misbehavior had been solely on his part.  Mary “experienced from him continual ill usage of the worst kind,” yet his villainy extended beyond their household.  The aggrieved wife alleged that Morris committed “a criminal attempt upon a young woman” that resulted in him having to leave town.  Abandoned by her husband, Mary “was reduced to the necessity of returning to her mother.”  Morris somehow managed to resolve that situation; Mary did not provide details but reported that “when the affair was made up, … she was prevailed on, to live with him again,” much to her regret.  Her husband remained unreformed: “by his lewd commerce with other women, he contracted and designedly communicated to [Mary], a loathsome disease, which greatly endangered her life, and from which she with great difficulty recovered.”

The real story, Mary insisted, reflected poorly on her husband, not on her.  She took to the pages of the New-York Journal“in vindication of her injured character.”  Rather than “eloping” from Morris, she had returned to her mother because she did not consider herself safe with him.  It was actually Morris who “has absconded, to avoid the payment of his debts.”  Even as he tried to cut her off from his credit, her notice likely prompted others to think twice about doing business with him.  Wives rarely placed rebuttals to the advertisements published by their husbands.  In the rare instances that they did, women like Mary Decamp attempted to harness the power of the press to defend their reputations by setting the record straight.

September 25

Carl Robert Keyes Daily Advert Update , , , , , ,

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

Connecticut Courant (September 25, 1770).

“My Husband has attempted by an Advertisement to ruin my Character.”

Advertisements warning against extending credit to runaway wives were a standard feature in American newspapers in the eighteenth century.  The one that Benoni Griffen, Jr., inserted in the September 10, 1770, edition of the Connecticut Courant resembled so many others that appeared in newspapers from New England to Georgia.  “Whereas Martha the Wife of me the Subscriber,” Griffen proclaimed, “hath for some Tome past, behaved herself in a very Disorderly Manner, by endeavouring to run me in Debt, THESE are Therefore to want all Persons not to Trust of Credit her on my Account, as I will pay no Debt she may Contract after this Date.”  Like Griffen’s notice, most advertisements concerning runaway wives did not provide further details about the alleged “Disorderly” conduct.

Most also did not garner a response.  Usually husbands had the last and only word in the public prints.  Yet Martha objected to how Benoni described her to friends, acquaintances, and strangers in the pages of the Connecticut Courant. She inserted her own advertisement, more than twice the length of his, to set the record straight.  Martha accused Benoni of attempting to “ruin my Character,” but she asserted that she could “produce the fullest Proof that my Conduct has been prudent and blameless, especially with Respect of running my Husband in Debt.”  Furthermore, she had a very different tale to tell about which spouse had treated the other poorly.  Martha complained that Benoni’s “Temper and Conduct and Disposition has been extremely Ill.”  Indeed, he had abandoned her and “a Family of small Children” more than once.  During his most recent escapade, he had been away for almost two years, leaving Martha and the children “in bad Circumstances.”  When he finally appeared again was not a free man but instead “a bound Servant.”  Martha found it irritating that Benoni warned against extending credit to her on his behalf because she and her father had so often paid off his debts.  Benoni’s shenanigans became so notorious that the town’s selectmen intervened.

Martha did not expect that Benoni’s advertisement had influence anyone who actually knew the couple.  “[W]here he and I are known,” she stated, “‘tis beyond his Power to injure my Character.”  Yet not all readers knew Martha and Benoni.  It was for the benefit of “Strangers” that she ran her own advertisement to dispute her husband’s version of events.  He used the public prints to defame her.  In turn, she inserted an advertisement in the same newspaper to defend her reputation.  Martha and other women who absconded from their husbands and became subjects of newspaper advertisements asserted their will in a manner considered unbecoming of their sex, further compounding any offenses they supposedly committed within their households.  Martha’s challenges to her husband’s authority, however, did not end there.  She continued to exercise her own will, publishing an advertisement that portrayed Benoni as an unsavory character incapable of fulfilling his responsibilities as husband and head of the household.

December 11

Carl Robert Keyes Daily Advert Update , , , , , ,

What was advertised in a colonial American newspaper 250 years ago today?

dec-11-12111766-pennsylvania-journal
Pennsylvania Journal (December 11, 1766).

“Philip Coleman peddler, my husband; for some time past has eloped from me.”

Many colonists experienced geographic mobility during the eighteenth century. Even as some used their ability to move from place to place to seize opportunities and improve their lot in life, others found such mobility problematic, especially in the cases of slaves and indentured servants who ran away from their masters.

While advertisements for unfree laborers constituted the vast majority of runaway advertisements in the eighteenth century, advertisements for wives who had “eloped from” (rather than with) their husbands appeared with such frequency that no one would have considered them extraordinary in any particular way. In the larger urban ports newspapers sometimes featured multiple advertisements concerning runaway wives in a single issue, usually following a set formula announcing that a woman had “eloped from” her husband, that she had behaved poorly before her departure, and, perhaps most importantly, that merchants, shopkeepers, and others were not to extend her credit or otherwise allow her to make purchases on her husband’s account.

Advertisements for runaway husbands, on the other hand, were much more rare. Elizabeth Coleman published her advertisement about “Philip Coleman peddler, my husband,” only after he had “eloped from” her. That would have been bad enough, but he also made efforts to publicly damage her reputation “by inserting in the publick paper an advertisement very much to my prejudice.”

Elizabeth Coleman was not in a position to replicate the standard advertisement for a runaway wife; as a married woman, a feme covert, she could not instruct others not to trust her husband on her account. Instead, she resorted to defending herself in no uncertain terms. She lamented that her husband’s advertisement “scandalously vilified my character.” It presented accusations “contrary to my known character.” As a feme covert, Elizabeth would not have owned property independently of her husband; her reputation – her character – was her most valuable possession. Given the very public aspects of the rupture in the Coleman household, Elizabeth may have needed an unsullied reputation more than ever just for her everyday survival.

Just as her husband had used the power of the press to level accusations against her, Elizabeth Coleman published a counter advertisement as her means of “justifying myself.” Unlike advertisements for runaway wives that relied solely on the word of the husband, Elizabeth relied on her community to affirm her declarations concerning her character and her relationship with her husband. Philip’s advertisement was “villanous and false, which is well know to al- my neighbours.”

N.B. I am examining newspapers printed in Philadelphia in the summer and fall of 1766 in hopes of identifying Philip Coleman’s original advertisement.