Wednesday, July 13, 2022

April White's "The Divorce Colony"

April White is a senior writer and editor at Atlas Obscura. She previously worked as an editor at Smithsonian Magazine, where she oversaw the publication’s history-focused coverage. She holds a master’s degree in history and has told surprising tales from the archives for publications including the Washington Post, The Atavist Magazine, and JSTOR Daily. An experienced researcher, she has also collaborated with nonfiction authors on more than a dozen book projects.

In addition, White has authored and coauthored eight cookbooks and several other books on food and drink, including Lemonade with Zest, Sweet Sugar, Sultry Spice, Pitmaster, and From Apples to Cider. She is also the former food editor of Philadelphia Magazine.

White applied the “Page 99 Test” to her new book, The Divorce Colony: How Women Revolutionized Marriage and Found Freedom on the American Frontier, and reported the following:
From the book:
The priest deflected any blame onto Archbishop Michael Corrigan, who had granted Mary and Jamie the necessary dispensation to marry. Through a spokesman, the archbishop fired back at the clergyman. “It was the duty of the priest who performed the ceremony to ascertain if there were any obstacles to the marriage.” The spokesman was also careful to remind the Blaines that the archbishop had been willing to assist in the family’s efforts to invalidate the marriage. In Deadwood Judge Thomas, too, sought to make amends. “The statements of the distinguished Secretary of State not being before me on the trial of the case, I could not consider them in arriving at my judgement, however true or weighty they may be,” he now said.

The clamor of voices opining on the circumstances of her marriage and divorce threatened to drown Mary out. She waited a day and then two before entering the fray with a carefully crafted open letter addressed to James that was published as widely as James’s missive had been. “I acknowledge your well-rendered, richly deserved fame as a diplomat, and appreciate fully the weight which your utterances possess—as fully as do I appreciate my own weakness and my total inability to cope with you in a personal encounter— but I shall expect from you that considerate and honorable treatment which I am sure your keen sense of equity and fairness will dictate,” she wrote. “The powerful man of a great nation will surely accord to a weak and defenseless woman her full meed of justice.”

The public’s eagerness to re‑embrace the image of Mary as a helpless woman had served her well, blunting the criticism of her divorce. Now she played the role to her advantage again, issuing an ultimatum that was both polite and pointed. “Have the kindness to publish in connection with your statement the full text of the letters you have quoted from. Do not, like a shrewd and unprincipled person, select only such pages as may be needed to make your case,” she wrote.
Page 99 of my new book, The Divorce Colony: How Women Revolutionized Marriage and Found Freedom on the American Frontier, throws readers right into the fray with Mary, a woman who is—it is evident from these three paragraphs alone—surrounded by men who wish to dictate her life choices. Something Mary has done has riled the clergy, the judiciary and even the Secretary of State. Her offense may not be immediately evident from this brief excerpt, but the title probably gave it away: Mary has gotten a divorce—and in doing so she and the other unhappy wives who sought escape from their marriages in South Dakota at the turn of the twentieth century forever reshaped the country’s attitudes toward divorce.

That central argument is not captured on page 99, but these 343 words do convey the high emotions of this Gilded Age culture war—and understanding what this period of time felt like for the women forced to travel long distances, often at great hardship, expense and legal peril, to end their marriages was as important to me as exploring the legal, political, religious and social obstacles they faced.

The Mary we meet on page 99 is Mary Nevins Blaine, one of four women I profile to tell the story of “the divorce colony.” In 1886, at the age of 19, the aspiring actress had eloped with the wayward youngest son of James G. Blaine Sr., the standard bearer of the Republican party and a perpetual presidential candidate. Neither family approved of the surprising nuptials and Mary had found her marriage caught up in the midterm elections of 1886; now her divorce was about to become an issue in the 1892 presidential election, in which Blaine would again vie to be the Republican candidate. Mary got her legal decree, but there was a battle for public opinion to be waged as well. James took to the front pages to blame his former daughter-in-law for the disgrace. And to his surprise, Mary fought back.

As I make clear in the book, Mary’s decision to end her marriage was a private one. But what might have been a quiet act of personal empowerment and self-determination became, in the glare of the national spotlight, a radical political choice.
Visit The Divorce Colony website.

--Marshal Zeringue