O Say Can You See?

Finding female pioneers in mathematics

Before World War II, few women received PhD's in mathematics. Museum staff and volunteers tracked many of them down, and today we share their collections online.

The focus of Women's History Month this year was the history of women in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM). Smithsonian scholars have been pondering the topic for decades. The fruits of their work can be seen in a group of artifacts recently made available online.

Some of the artifacts in the Women Mathematicians and Museum Collections group were collected in connection with a day-long meeting held in August 1981 that honored American women who had received PhD's in mathematics prior to World War II.

 

University of Chicago Mathematics Graduate Students Julia Bower, Abba Newton, and Frances Baker in 1933. Gift of Julia Bower.

In 1886, Columbia University awarded the first PhD in mathematics granted to an American woman, Winifred Edgerton. During the next 40 years, 99 other American women received PhD's in mathematics. One of those who received her degree in 1926 was Christine Ladd-Franklin, who, as Christine Ladd, had completed all the requirements for a PhD at Johns Hopkins in 1882 but was denied the degree solely because she was a woman.

The 1981 meeting honoring women mathematicians was sponsored by the Museum's Division of Mathematics and was presided over by Uta C. Merzbach, then curator of the division. In preparation for the meeting Jeanne LaDuke and I, both mathematics professors and Honorary Research Associates of the division, sent approximately 100 women the information we had collected about them. We asked them to verify, correct, and supplement what we had found, and requested photographs.

About 50 of the questionnaires were returned and these form the basis for the Early Women Doctorates Collection. They also provide personal information that Jeanne LaDuke and I used in our book Pioneering Women in American Mathematics: The Pre-1940 PhD's.

 

Eighteen Women with PhD's in Mathematics at the museum in 1981

Many of the other items in the object group were collected from women who were among the invitees to the meeting. These include items donated by Admiral Grace Murray Hopper, whose distinguished career in computer science began in the Navy; by Sister M. Helen Sullivan, whose career centered around teaching; by Frances E. Baker, who was part of a mathematical family; and by Grace Shover Quinn, who was a friend of Olive C. Hazlett, a leading mathematician of the 1930s.

These women, like mathematicians generally, differed widely in background, interests, and accomplishments.

 

Olive C. Hazlett’s Tenor Recorder. Gift of Grace Shover and Robert Quinn.

Olive Hazlett was interested in music, puzzles, and photography as well as in mathematics. Some of her puzzles are also included in the object group.

 

"Nanoseconds." Gift of Grace Murray Hopper.

Grace Hopper's nanoseconds are pieces of wire that represent the distance an electrical signal travels in a nanosecond—a billionth of a second. In her later years, Hopper lectured widely and distributed thousands of nanoseconds to her listeners. Eventually, she used grains of pepper to represent the distance an electrical signal travels in a picosecond—a trillionth of a second.

Dr. Judy Green is Professor Emeritus of Mathematics at Marymount University and a Behind-the-Scene Volunteer in Mathematics at the National Museum of American History.

You asked, we answered: What did Revolutionary War soldiers have in their pockets?

Linda B. asked through our Facebook page: "I have a research question … What kinds of things would Revolutionary soldiers carry in their pockets? Did they have pockets or did they use backpacks instead?"

Here's our answer, supplied by Marko Zlatich, a longtime volunteer in the museum's Military History Department.

 

Powder horn from the colonial era etched with map of New York.

Revolutionary War soldiers did have pockets. There were two larger pockets in the outer coats, two in the inner vests, and two small ones below the waistband in their breeches.

They did use backpacks and those were used to carry their larger necessaries such as extra shoes, stockings, shirts, and other wearing apparel, as well as extra outer clothing, food, boots, and personal items. They might carry more food in the larger outer pockets—easier access to the marching soldier. The smaller pockets sometimes contained cartridges when appropriate for their weapons.

This .66 caliber smoothbore flintlock pistol was made by William Whetcroft of Annapolis Maryland around 1776.

But in the end, the contents of those pockets would have been a varied thing. It depended on the soldier, where they were from, their personal tastes, and the circumstances of their immediate service, such as on the march, in camp, or in combat.

Continental Army uniform coat worn by Colonel Peter Gansevoort Jr. of the 3rd Regiment of the New York Continental Line. He wore this coat during his command of Fort Stanwix, New York, in 1777.

Items a Revolutionary War soldier would have put in his pockets include some or all of the following:

• spare flints for the musket and for use with a striking steel to make sparks for starting camp fires
• loose ammunition
• a pen knife, pencil and small diary book
• coins or paper money and maybe a leather wallet
• a Jews harp or whistle (a Jews harp is a metal instrument played while being held in the mouth while its metal tang was struck by hand)
• a couple of handkerchiefs
• a waxed cloth for clearing the musket and for covering the lock plate to keep powder dry
• a clay pipe
• a "twist" of tobacco for the pipe
• a letter from home (although newspapers were a more common item in the mails, according to the National Postal Museum’s Mail Call exhibition website)
• a written pass from a commanding officer

This fife from the period of the American Revolution was unearthed on Red Bank battleground in 1880 near the New Jersey Monument.

Do you have a question about American history you’d like answered? Ask us on Facebook or Twitter and we’ll do our best to answer. 

Telling the story of agricultural change in America, with your help

The way Americans grow food and other agricultural products has changed a lot in the last 70 years. Curator Peter Liebhold answered questions about the museum’s new initiative to archive these changes.

Why is the museum launching an initiative to collect agriculture stories from the public?

The Agricultural Innovation and Heritage Archive is an exciting experiment for the museum. This is the first time that the museum has tried a collecting effort using social media. Usually, curators identify specific individuals and work directly with them to collect artifacts and stories. By reaching out through the web, we can reach thousands more people—and make the process more public. We'll get greater diversity and build a more accurate, nuanced story of American agriculture.

The initiative is especially important as we develop the upcoming American Enterprise exhibition, as agriculture is one of five economic sectors explored in it. As we researched the topic, it became apparent that we lacked material that documented the many innovations that have fundamentally changed American agriculture.

 

Mary Hawley Bardole driving a Ford tractor and towing a flare box wood wagon full of soybeans. In the background is a harvester, Rippey, Iowa, mid to late 1940s.

Why turn to the public to share their stories?

Reaching out to the public via the web is evidence that the museum is embracing 21st century tools. We are stepping out of the curatorial comfort zone and inviting public access.

Frankly, this is a bit terrifying for curators. Will we be overwhelmed with responses? How do we maintain rigor? The answers to these questions are unknown, but if we don't try them, we can never succeed. We are excited about the Agricultural Innovation and Heritage Archive and think it might be a new way of doing public history for this museum.

What kinds of material do you hope the public submits?

Collecting museum objects is a black art. It is always hard to say what you are looking for in advance but fairly easy to say when you have found it. Curators look for icons; intrinsically interesting objects that represent great moments and esoteric ideas. For the Agricultural Innovation and Heritage Archive, we mostly hope to collect stories—insightful, introspective, and told in the first person. We want to bring history alive and make it personal.

We also hope to collect photographs, ephemera (letters, documents, trade literature, etc.), and oral histories. With the 2-D material, we don't even have to collect the original as high quality scans will work. We don't expect to collect big objects—tractor and combines are fascinating, but take up a lot of space.

 

Joshua Cave, Cave Family Farm packs peppers at Pilot Mountain Pride Cooperative in Pilot Mountain, North Carolina. Photograph by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, via the Creative Commons license.

How will the museum use agriculture stories submitted by the public?

The American Enterprise curators will use the material as they prepare the exhibition. There have been many books and articles written about agriculture, but this initiative will bring forward different perspectives than those that historians usually flog. History is complex and letting the public participate can be revealing.

For example, a peer recently told me that the Farm Crisis of the 1980s and accompanying Farm Aid concerts was the point where farmers stood up and said, 'we don't want to be big, we want to stay small.' I spoke to a number of farmers and their individual stories were revealing. They weren't as concerned about being big or small as they were interested in quality of life. That kind of knowledge comes best through personal stories.

Additionally, this archive will be useful for students, researchers, and the public. As an open archive, it can be used by a variety of people for any number of purposes. Museums have learned that people want access to primary material—and they can use it in unpredictable ways. We love history and want to preserve the story of American agriculture and make it widely accessible.

Why is it important to preserve these stories and photos?

Many aspects of history are ephemeral. Things like silver cups and letters from famous people often get saved. Photographs like a person hoeing a soybean field or the story of someone who grew 30-pound watermelons only to discover the public wants personal sized watermelons are less likely to be kept. If future generations are to understand how we made decisions, then they need a fuller story.

Peter Liebhold is the chair and curator of the Division of Work and Industry. Don't forget to share your story with the Agricultural Innovation and Heritage Archive.

Part I: Great strides for the "New Woman," suffrage, and fashion

On the day before Woodrow Wilson's inauguration in 1913, 5,000 women marched up Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C., demanding the vote. The parade is the subject of an artifact wall display here. In addition to banners and programs, the women used their clothing to communicate their message, a topic we discussed with Alden O'Brien of the Daughters of the American Revolution Museum.

 

Two manikins on display at the Daughters of the American Revolution Museum represent the White House Picket Line vigil kept daily by members of the National Woman’s Party (organizers of the March 1913 parade) starting in February 1917. Suits and hats, courtesy Shippensburg University Fashion Archives and Museum. Sashes and original banner pole, courtesy the Sewall-Belmont House and Museum. Reproduction banner.

The exhibition you curated at the Daughters of the American Revolution Museum is titled "Fashioning the New Woman: 1890-1925." Who was the "New Woman"

The New Woman was a stereotype, or an archetype that burst on the popular culture scene just about exactly in 1890, the beginning of the time covered by the exhibit. Like the flapper or the hippie, the New Woman embodied a certain "type" of person that in some way uniquely represented her time.

What was "new" about her was that she was bolder, more active, more out-and-about in the world, more outspoken than her mother's generation. Of course, it should be said that the New Woman was mostly a middle-class phenomenon, and to some extent an urban one. But in embracing new activities and eventually (not without some resistance and criticism along the way) making them more acceptable, these New Women influenced American women's lives overall.

It's hard to say why she emerged at this time except that the time was ripe. The Victorian bourgeois ideal of the middle-class lady who stayed at home and kept quiet, was getting old, and a new generation was ready to seek other options.

 

A trio of outfits at the Daughters of the American Revolution Museum shows the evolution from the last gasp of Edwardian bulk to the short, simple dress of the Twenties. Left, a two-piece dress of about 1907 (Daughters of the American Revolution Museum). Center, a houndstooth suit of about 1914 (loan courtesy Shippensburg University Fashion Archives and Museum). Right, black and white day dress, 1925 (Daughters of the American Revolution Museum).

The display at this museum on the 1913 woman suffrage parade includes some costume elements worn in the parade. What was fashion like in 1913?

Styles of 1913 were well on their way away from Victorian and Edwardian layers and bulk. Corsets no longer constricted the waist, really, but instead they would give you a smooth line, like today's Spanx for example, and the silhouette was quite slender, needing just one slim petticoat instead of several.

The tailored suit was a staple of every woman's wardrobe, and the skirt-and-blouse look was one of the most popular. Dresses were looser-fitting, whereas they used to be very precisely fitted to the corseted figure. Women had already come a long way since the multi-layered, corseted, upholstered look of the late Victorian era.

Left: a corset from 1900. Right, a corset from the 1910s, which is less rigidly constructed. Its long lines do more smoothing than cinching. Daughters of the American Revolution Museum.

In the 1913 suffrage parade, women used their clothes as well as many other tools (signs, printed material, etc) to get their messages across. What messages did the clothes of the 1910s send?

Well, we know that women were encouraged to wear white for some of these parades—probably more true of spring and summer ones than the March 1913 one, as photos of this parade show women bundled up in their coats and muffs. White was one of the colors of the suffrage movement along with purple and yellow (green and purple in England). The traditional association of white with young girls, weddings, youth, and "purity" must all have played into using this color—it may have been intended to suggest the purity and high-mindedness of their goals.

In general, fashion of this time was starting to reveal just a tiny bit more of women's bodies: daytime outfits could now show a bit of collarbone instead of having those high, snug collars of just a few years ago. Sleeves could be elbow-length instead of to the wrist; and you might catch a glimpse of ankle—very shortly after 1913, hemlines rise to a few inches above the ankle. (Although women still felt they should wear boots rather than reveal their actual ankles for a few more years!)

All these freer, looser styles allowed more freedom of movement, which suggested great strides were being made in women's ability to get around and be less constricted physically.

 

Even at the time, the irony of the hobble skirt's hampering women's movement was not lost. Postcard, about 1912,

Daughters of the American Revolution Museum.

 

That said, there was a strange fad for the "hobble skirt" around 1910-1912, which made skirts tight at the ankles, restricting women's steps. A comic postcard of the time mocks this style specifically referring to how it contradicts women's progress being made at the time: "And yet they say we are making great strides," it says—no strides were possible with those tight skirts! Fortunately, it was a brief fad, and one which many women ignored!

A silk day dress of about 1912-13 would drape gently over the body in contrast to earlier styles which were snugly fitted to the corseted body. Daughters of the American Revolution Museum.

Alden O'Brien is the Curator of Costume and Textiles at the Daughters of the American Revolution Museum in Washington, DC, and curated the Fashioning the New Woman exhibition on view there through August 31, 2013. To learn more about the 1913 suffrage parade, read our post on Alice Paul, this post on three suffrage artifacts from the Sewall-Belmont House and Museum, explore our woman suffrage collections, and visit the National Museum of American History's display about the parade. Stay tuned for Part II of this blog post.

Pink jersey of courage: Andy Hampsten, the first American cyclist to win the Giro d’Italia

As road racing season takes shape in the competitive cycling world, a close look at the dramatic story behind a leading artifact

Competitive cycling is a test of strength as well as mental and physical endurance. Within the sport, there is no greater test than the Grand Tours, which were originally organized as circulation-boosting events by regional newspapers.

The Giro d'Italia (Tour of Italy) began in 1909. Like the Tour de France (Tour of France) and the Vuelta a España (Tour of Spain), it consists of a three-week long bicycle race comprised of daily stages.

 

Pink "Maglia Rosa" leader's jerseys awarded to Andy Hampsten during the 1988 Giro d’Italia. A Grand Tour is not won in a day, although winning an individual stage is an honor. At the end of each racing day, the rider with the fastest overall cumulative time is awarded a colored leader's jersey and wears it during the next stage. The rider wearing this jersey after the last stage—at the end of well over 2,000 miles in 20-plus days of racing—has the fastest cumulative time and wins the race.

The only American to win the Giro d'Italia is Andy Hampsten, who won the race in 1988 while riding for the U.S.-based 7-Eleven Hoonved team.

The race's decisive moment came on June 5 over the Gavia Pass in the Italian Alps. The weather had deteriorated and despite snowplows clearing the road prior to start time, sleet and snow demoralized the riders as they struggled through the 75-mile-long mountain stage.

Near the base of the Gavia Pass, another rider asked, "You're not gonna attack are you?" Andy was in 5th place, only trailing the leader's time by 1 minute and 18 seconds. Andy said: "I just looked at him ... and I didn't say ... a word ... they knew damn well I was going to attack." 

Soon into the start of the climb, Andy attacked, alone. The roads over the Gavia Pass and descent to the town of Bormio were treacherous, with narrow roads, unpaved sections, and steep gradients. These proved to be the ideal conditions for Andy's attack and he immediately distanced himself from his rivals.

Despite being pursued and eventually passed by Eric Breukink, the Dutch rider who won the stage, Andy finished far enough ahead of the previous day's race leader to be awarded the pink "Maglia Rosa" race leader's jersey, which he kept through the finish of the final stage on June 12.

The museum was fortunate to acquire one of the pink "Maglia Rosa" leader's jerseys awarded to Andy Hampsten during the 1988 Giro d'Italia. The race leader is awarded a new jersey in a ceremony for every day they lead the race, but they usually ride in the first jersey awarded. The extras are given away as gifts. The jersey donated to the museum was originally presented as a gift in 1988 from Andy to Bruce Hildenbrand, a sports writer and photojournalist.

The 1988 "Maglia Rosa" jersey was the last year wool jerseys were used and was made by the Castelli Cycling apparel company. It bears the name of La Gazzetta dello Sport, the Italian newspaper that first organized the race in 1909. A handwritten inscription on the jersey reads "To ma Bro' Bruz!" and is signed with Andy's nickname, "yer pal, Ernie."

Andy's winning Giro d'Italia jersey is not currently on display, but his inspirational ride remains alive for cycling fans and those who remembers his bravery. The next time life places an ice-covered mountain in your path, think of Hampsten's courageous attack and willingness to suffer for the prize and a place in history.

Corey DiPietro is a museum documentation specialist and assists the Division of Culture and the Arts to collect and research American competitive cycling.