Here's Where It Gets Interesting - Cookies, Corsets, and a Legacy of Learning from Hannah Van Buren

Episode Date: November 30, 2022

Today on Here's Where It Gets Interesting, we’ll continue to talk about some key players of the Jacksonian Era - and, before we get to this infamous scandal in Washington that I’ve been teasing you about, we need to learn about another one of our first ladies who never made it to the White House. Our next President’s wife actually passed away almost two decades before she would have been First Lady. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hello, friends. Welcome. So glad you're here with me for another episode of Here's Where It Gets Interesting. And today we'll continue to talk about some key players of the Jacksonian era. And before we get to this infamous scandal in Washington that I've been teasing you about, we need to learn about one of our other first ladies who never made it to the White House. that I've been teasing you about. We need to learn about one of our other first ladies who never made it to the White House. Our next president's wife actually passed away almost two decades before she would have been first lady. And although it was cut short, the story of her life has so many interesting correlations to our history here in the United States of America. So let's explore some of our country's historical foundations through the life of Hannah Van Buren, the wife

of our eighth president, Martin Van Buren. I'm Sharon McMahon, and here's where it gets interesting. Consider these words. Frolic, spooky, wiggle, loiter, cookies. Can you see a connection between them? I would be surprised if you can, right? They don't seem like they have much in common, but they actually do. They're common words, but they all have Dutch origins. but they all have Dutch origins. And when we think about the European colonization of America, our minds conjure up key facts we've memorized in history classes, like the pilgrims and Jamestown and the British, right? But there was actually another lesser known and extremely important

influence on our nation's beginning. It came from the Dutch settlers who arrived on American shores early in the 17th century. In 1623, a group of explorers called the Dutch West India Company officially established a province in America called New Netherland. This New Netherland was made up of a huge swath of land from what is now eastern New York, Connecticut, New Jersey, and portions of Delaware, Maryland, and Pennsylvania. The following year, a large group of those settlers began to congregate and form a city at the tip of an island at the mouth of the Hudson River. Today, we call that place Lower Manhattan in New York City. In 1626, the official sale of the land was finalized,

and the city of New Amsterdam was established on the southern end of Manhattan Island in the area that we now refer to as the financial district. And we're going to talk a little bit more about that in a moment. And how the sale of this land went down really depends on who is giving an account of it. As part of their settlement for Manhattan, the Dutch claim that they purchased the island from the Native Americans for trade goods like iron kettles and axes. These items were invaluable to the Native Americans for trade goods like iron kettles and axes. These items were invaluable to the Native Americans since they couldn't produce these things themselves, and thus they were highly desirable, certainly worthy of a land trade. But the Native Americans

had a completely different concept of land ownership than the European colonists did. They believed that they were renting out Manhattan for temporary use, not selling it forever. Over the next few decades, New Amsterdam grew to be the capital of New Netherland and the busiest seaport in the Western Hemisphere. The Dutch who lived there were not interested in spreading out. They were staunch capitalists who cared more about trade opportunities. They were not there to conquer the land, in other words. They established a relationship of equal business partners with the Iroquois tribes and developed a large fur trading industry. And even back then, when there were only about 250 brick and stone homes there, Manhattan was a melting pot.

Joining the Dutch in this new Amsterdam were the Scottish, English, French, Scandinavians, Germans, Muslims, Jews, and members of several indigenous tribes. A Jesuit newspaper reported in 1643 that New Amsterdam's few hundred residents spoke 18 different languages between them. And as you can imagine, it didn't take long for other countries to notice the success of New Amsterdam. The trade was highly profitable, the seaport was booming, and for the most part, it was a genuinely nice place to live. The English had been building up their own trade and founding colonies around the New World. In March of 1664, King Charles II of England decided to award his brother James, then the Duke of York, the gift of colony land, including New Amsterdam.

Isn't that nice? Isn't it so nice that he gave his brother a gift of something that did not belong to him? It's like giving your sibling the house next door, even though you don't own it. Like you can have this. Congratulations. This is your house now. even though you don't own it. Like, you can have this. Congratulations, this is your house now. Poses a few small problems, mainly that the King of England had no legal claim to the land that had been established by the Dutch. And so, King Charles II set out to handle that little problem, that small, tiny detail in his own way. In late August of 1664, four English warships carrying hundreds of soldiers on board sailed into the New Amsterdam harbor and demanded a surrender. The arrival of these English ships did not come as a surprise to New Amsterdam. It was not a super

sneaky attack. We're talking about a major trade hub here. Information flowed freely and sailors and trade waters knew how to differentiate between other trade ships and warships. So the leaders of New Amsterdam were well aware of King Charles II's plan. So here's what they did. Dutch officials in the city gathered a team together and constructed a sturdy wooden wall about nine feet high and 2,300 feet long. And that wall that they built to hold back their potential invaders, we now call that Wall Street. It's amazing to think that what happens on those financial district blocks of New York City, how decisions made there now impact billions of people around the world. It's amazing to think that that began as nothing more than a literal wall. So when the English arrived, they demanded the handover of New Amsterdam. And there were only two choices at

hand for the Dutch who controlled the region, go to war with England or negotiate a treaty and proceed with a bloodless capture of their prosperous territory. Peter Stuyvesant, the Dutch director general, chose a peaceful transfer of power. On September 8th, 1664, New Amsterdam was surrendered to the British, who renamed it New York after King Charles II's brother James, the Duke of York. But Peter Simonson didn't just surrender in a foolish manner. The terms of the treaty were very carefully planned out. Knowing he was outmanned and with prominent city residents strongly persuading him to stand down so no blood would be shed, Peter agreed to the takeover with very specific stipulations. Firstly, the English would not be allowed to expel any of the residents or seize

their property. Secondly, the Dutch would also maintain leadership throughout the city by resident-appointed governors. And so it was that New York City transferred to English control, but it still maintained a Dutch cultural and linguistic presence. The distinct architectural style of the homes has lived on in many parts of the city, and many political historians credit those early Dutch leaders with influencing a great deal of early American culture. As the Dutch residents began to spread out beyond Manhattan, they built up communities in the surrounding areas and gave them Dutch-based names that you're likely familiar with, like Brooklyn, Harlem, Coney Island, and even Broadway. out into more spacious and rural areas, founding many towns across the Hudson Valley like Albany, Woodstock, and Kinderhook. And it's there in Kinderhook, New York, in the late 1700s, a close-knit Dutch community that we meet the families of Hannah Huss and Martin Van Buren.

Her last name is spelled H-O-E-S in English. Hannah and Martin Van Buren were childhood sweethearts. Martin's family ran the local tavern, which functioned as more of a town diner than a bar. And he and his family lived above the tavern, a place where politicians and dignitaries dined at on their travels to Albany, New York. Hannah's mother, Maria Quackenbush, was widely respected in Kinderhook and had a passion for seeing that children had a strong education. Johannes. Maria set up the first officially recognized school in Kinderhook called Old Columbia Academy, which would later be known as Kinderhook Academy. Dutch was both Hannah and Martin's first language. They grew up speaking Dutch with their fellow townsfolk, switching to English with outsiders who would come through their small Hudson Valley community. Hannah and Martin, who were first cousins once removed,

developed a romantic interest in each other when they reached 13 years. Martin was deeply devoted to, as he once wrote to a colleague, my shy, blue-eyed bride, whom I shall always call my Johanna. Martin left his childhood education early in order to work full-time at the family tavern, and there he had a front row seat to all the political gatherings and conversations in the town, and he took a keen interest in it all. Hannah, well educated at the academy, began tutoring Martin and prepping him to take a law internship. She supported his political ambitions, even agreeing to delay their wedding plans when he

left town at the age of 20 to clerk at an attorney's office in New York City. When Martin returned to Kinderhook three years later, his first order of business was to establish a law practice there with his half-brother. Finally, feeling secure in their futures, Hannah and Martin got married on February 21st, 1807. I'm Jenna Fisher. And I'm Angela Kinsey. We are best friends. And together we have the podcast Office Ladies, where we rewatched every single episode of The Office with insane behind the scenes stories, hilarious guests and lots of laughs. Guess who's sitting next to me? Steve! It's my girl in the studio! studio. Every Wednesday, we'll be sharing even more exclusive stories from the office and our friendship with brand new guests. And we'll be digging into our mailbag to answer your questions and comments. So join us for brand new Office Lady 6.0 episodes every Wednesday. Plus, on Mondays,

we are taking a second drink. You can revisit all the Office Ladies rewatch episodes every Monday with new bonus tidbits before every episode. Well, we can't wait to see you there. Follow and listen to Office Ladies on the free Odyssey app and wherever you get your podcasts. Martin's law practice in Kinderhook grew successful quite quickly, and he decided it was time to pursue his political goals. Hannah and Martin, with their newborn son, moved to the county seat in Hudson, New York. And in 1812, Martin got his big political break when he was elected to the New York State Senate. And the Van Buren family, now with three sons, was on the move again to the

state capital of Albany. Hannah's well-run home in Albany became the center of Martin's political networking as he constantly invited aides, lawyers, and other influencers in the state to their house for gatherings. Ever supportive of her husband's ambitions, Hannah was a dutiful wife and host. New York State Democratic Party leader Benjamin Butler, who lived with the Van Burens for a period of time, described Hannah in his memoirs as a woman of sweet nature with no love of show, no ambitious desires, and no pride of ostentatiousness. But something was lurking beneath the surface for Hannah, something that would lead Martin and their children to live a life they could never have imagined. Hannah Van Buren kept busy raising her young sons in Albany, and she found great joy in her children, but nothing brought her more satisfaction than devoting herself to her church and her charitable efforts. Hannah

joined the Presbyterian Church when they moved to Albany because there was no Dutch Reformed Church like back home. Her new church community would be what carried her through her most difficult times. Unbeknownst to her, Hannah had contracted tuberculosis soon after the Van Buren family moved to Albany. And to help us know better what Hannah would have experienced, let's take a moment and understand the disease of tuberculosis and its cultural impacts. Tuberculosis is an ancient disease. Evidence of its bacterium has been found on Egyptian mummies from around 6,000 years ago, and it is prevalent in ancient Chinese and South Asian records from at least 3,000 years ago. In our last millennium, it was called many things, from the white plague to consumption. Today, it's simply shortened to TB most often.

But there's nothing simple about tuberculosis. Its source is a bacteria that impacts the lung, brain, spine, and kidneys. Without treatment, it has a high mortality rate with 70% of people dying within 10 years of diagnosis. Tuberculosis was quite common in the 19th century. One in seven people died from TB during that time. And eventually, the pallor of a woman suffering from tuberculosis became admired. suffering from tuberculosis became admired. TB victims turned pale and thin as the disease slowly worked through their bodies. Delicate, transparent skin, fine silky hair, dilated eyes, rosy cheeks, and red lips were common in tuberculosis patients, characteristics that were also held up at the time as signs of beauty. And the fad got so out of hand that even the Saturday Evening Post ran a series for women

on how to display the look of consumption. Women actually attempted to copy the consumptive appearance by using makeup to lighten their skin, redden their lips, and color their cheeks pink. Finally, in 1882, a German scientist named Robert Koch unlocked some mysteries about the disease. Up until this time, tuberculosis was believed to be hereditary, but his work on germ theory led to the knowledge that it was not passed down through generations, but was rather spread through contagious airborne respiratory droplets. His discovery helped give greater importance to public health experts and physicians to come up with new campaigns that would help prevent the spread of tuberculosis. And their first target?

Women's fashion. Long trailing skirts were decried as disease spreaders because they would sweep up germs on the street and then spread them through shops and homes. There was a cartoon called The Trailing Skirt, Death Loves a Shining Mark, which appeared in a magazine in the early 1900s. It depicts a woman shaking off clouds of germy dust from her lady's skirt as innocent children stand nearby. Behind the woman looms a skeleton holding various symbols of death.

a skeleton holding various symbols of death. Women's hemlines began to rise and corsets were discouraged because they could worsen tuberculosis by limiting the movement of the lungs and circulation of the blood. Did you ever imagine that we would have tuberculosis to thank for not needing to wear corsets under our clothes? And now we all just wrestle our way into spanks and hard pants. But men's trends were also impacted. The full beards and sculpted mustaches and extravagant sideburns that had been all the rage during the 19th century, fell out of fashion by the 20th. Beards and mustaches were deemed dangerous. And while the discovery of how tuberculosis spread led to a widespread change in society and fashion, for Hannah Van Buren, there was only

sickness and struggle. Once she contracted the disease, it began to take its toll on her body. And she experienced such difficulty that she could only get out of bed for a few minutes at a time. And so her young sons only had limited moments with her. Hannah's niece, Christina Canteen, came to live with the family to manage the household and care for the Van Buren boys. Miraculously, Hannah became pregnant for the sixth time. Having lost a son and a daughter in two previous pregnancies, the family assumed they would lose this child too. But the baby boy lived. child too. But the baby boy lived. Hannah delivered him in January of 1817, and he became the fourth son and the final child of Hannah and Martin. The pregnancy and delivery, however, had taken

so much out of her that she knew that she didn't have much longer to live. In a final act of giving that displayed her loving heart, Hannah requested that the money usually spent on the funeral custom of scarves for her pallbearers be redirected to buy food for needy people in the city of Albany. Hannah Van Buren passed away on February 5th, 1819, leaving behind her husband of 12 years, Martin, and their four sons, who ranged in age from 2 to 11, Abraham, John, Martin Jr., and Smith. Whether it was out of a time period custom of respect or out of grief, Martin barely spoke of Hannah after her death. In fact, his silence kept her so mysterious that years later,

their son John was not even certain of her name. Writing to his father asking, We all agreed to name our daughter after my mother. Was her name Anna or Hannah? But nearly three decades later, when Martin set up his post-presidency estate, Lindenwald, back in his hometown of Kinderhook, New York, his most important request was to have a portrait of his beloved Hannah hung in his bedroom. He said that she was the guiding force of my early life and she will be the guiding force of my final years. Martin remained a widower for the remainder

of his life after Hannah's death. A White House staff member who gave an interview in the New York Tribune newspaper remarked, he was openly friendly with women, but never saw himself fit to show real interest in seeing them through to a courtship. Martin Van Buren was elected in 1836. He spent the first year and a half of his presidency with no first lady or White House hostess. He would occasionally rely

on the spouses of cabinet members to serve as hostess for an event or to aid in decorating rooms. But who should come to Martin Van Buren's rescue but former First Lady Dolly Madison? Dolly was living in Washington, D.C., across the street from the White House, and when a cousin and her daughter came to visit her in the spring of 1838, Dolly made a plan. Dolly brought along her visiting guests to a private White House dinner, making sure to seat her cousin's daughter, Angelica Singleton, close to the president's three unmarried sons, Abraham, Martin, and Smith. Sparks immediately flew between Angelica Singleton and Abraham Van Buren, and within a few months, Abraham proposed. Angelica and Abraham were

married in November of 1838, and as Abraham then returned to his position as personal secretary to his father, his wife, Angelica Singleton Van Buren, assumed the position of White House hostess. Angelica was personally mentored by old pro Dolly Madison, and she regularly sought wisdom and advice from her. Angelica won praise from society in her role as hostess, and President Van Buren enjoyed having the company of his new daughter-in-law by his side throughout the remainder of his time in office. Martin Van Buren lost the election of 1840, and in 1848 he returned to the home of his youth. He spent the remainder of his years at Lindenwald in Kinderhook, residing there for 21 years. And in his own words, written towards the end of his life, Martin stated, this is where I spent the last and happiest years of my life, a farmer in my native town.

Martin Van Buren died on July 24, 1862, and was laid to rest at lindenwald next to his hannah the beloved wife that he had lost 43 years clear thank you so much for being here today it would have been quite easy to skip over Hannah Van Buren, a virtually unknown, almost first lady who missed the White House by 20 years. But to do so, we'd miss out on learning the fascinating connection between her heritage and the many ways our lives are shaped today. I'll see you next time. Thank you so much for listening to Here's Where It Gets Interesting.

If you enjoyed this episode, would you consider sharing it on social media or leaving us a rating or review on your favorite podcast platform? All those things help podcasters out so much. The show is written and researched by executive producer Heather Jackson, Valerie Hoback, and Sharon McMahon. Our audio engineer is Jenny Snyder, and it's hosted by me, Sharon McMahon. We'll see you again soon.