This was a marvelous book. And reading it just a few weeks after I finished the biography of another New England woman of that same period -- Mary Baker Eddy -- was extremely illuminating. Elements of their lives echoed each other, sometimes in unexpected and strange ways, even as they diverged wildly -- Eunice became completely forgotten, even by her family, while Mary Baker Eddy became the most famous woman in America during her lifetime.
So forgive me for a moment, because I'm going to review the light both books throw on each other. I highly recommend reading them together. (The Eddy biography was by Sibyl Wilbur.)
Eunice Richardson Stone Connolly and Mary Baker Eddy were born about 10 miles and 10 years apart -- each growing up on New Hampshire farms near the Merrimack River, born to families with long New England lineages and long histories in the Congregational church.
Both women were taken to the South by their first husbands. Both had husbands who proved feckless and unable to support their families. Both found themselves husbandless during the Civil War due to foolish decisions by their husbands. Both used the opportunity of being alone to make bold, independent decisions and chart new directions for themselves. Both experienced the devastation that came to women and families at that time when a husband or father deserted his family and ran off with another woman. Both were widowed, both knew poverty, both struggled to find ways to support themselves and their young children in a world that provided few such opportunities for women. Both faced hardships that separated them from their sons at least for a time -- and in a very odd coincidence, the woman who cared for Eunice's son was named Mehitabel Quimby -- sharing the unusual last name of a famous figure in Mary's life. One of the women, Mary, was almost taken to the West Indies, at least for a time, by her husband, and the other, Eunice, actually was taken to the West Indies, for the rest of her life, by her husband. Both women found true happiness and companionship in their last marriages. Both women had a spiritual sense they trusted which led them to break from the Calvinist beliefs of their forefathers and embrace theologies that revealed a far more loving God. And both women pursued what they felt was right, though the world found their actions shocking because they flouted the (sexist or racist) social norms of the day.
The family that Eunice was born into was a half-step down on the economic ladder from the one Mary was born into. The Richardson family's land had been split too many times over the centuries, and her father's portion was too small to support his family. That half-step of economic difference in the two women's early family's circumstances contrast marvelously to reveal a much fuller picture of New England life to anyone who reads both biographies. When Mary found herself widowed, impoverished and bedridden after a difficult childbirth, her parents and siblings were able to support her. And when her health improved enough to think of independence, she tried writing and teaching as means of support. Whereas when Eunice found herself a virtual widow with her husband in the South during the Civil War, she had to turn to the starvation-wages drudgery of housecleaning and clothes washing because her family couldn’t support her (factory work —a huge step up — was also available to her, but not when she had two small children at home. The factories required their female workers to live together in tenements, and children weren't allowed).
All this history -- revealing rich detail of 19th century New England life for a woman having to forge her own way through adversity -- is just the first half of the book.
The second half of The Sea Captain's Wife is the truly fascinating bit. It chronicles the decision of Eunice, who was white, to marry a wealthy, black sea captain from the Cayman Islands and move to the West Indies. Really no other description needs to be made of what makes this book interesting. At a time when racism was so deeply ingrained in America and the Caribbean (though race was defined differently in the two places), the revelation of how one such union came to be, and the joy it brought them, is a marvelous story to read. Although it is a far more sketchy story than we would like, due (almost certainly) to her family’s attempt to destroy the memory of her romance by destroying all family letters from key years. And this is a historical book, not a novel, so it is dependent upon sources.
Full disclosure: part of my family is from the Cayman Islands, so Eunice and Captain Connolly are distant, distant cousins of mine (who I never knew about before this book). At least one other Caymanian ancestor of mine was said to come from Maine or somewhere in New England, though I’ve never been able to trace him. So finding such a finely-grained history of a Cayman family with a similar background is a true treasure. And it hints that perhaps one reason I can’t trace my ancestor, is that no one in New England wanted him or his Cayman family remembered.
But whether or not you’re descended from a bunch of mariners on a tiny speck of rock in a vast sea, this is a fascinating history. I highly recommend it.