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Cook, Susan, Alethia Lethe Tanner , Https://Www.alethiatanner.com/ , 2014 Given the outcome of the most recent American presidential election, the story of Alethia ‘Lethe’ Tanner (c. 1785–1864) feels particularly necessary to recount and reclaim, as it underscores the often-overlooked but vital role Black women have played, and continue to play, at the forefront of the fight for democracy in America. Alethia, an enslaved woman in the early nineteenth century, surmounted enormous obstacles to purchase her freedom and become a community leader in modern-day Washington, DC. She not only secured freedom for herself and eighteen relatives, but also made significant social and financial contributions to local churches and schools that were critical to the newly freed population in Washington. Her efforts were rooted in her entrepreneurial beginnings as a produce cart vendor on what is now Lafayette Square, just outside the White House. A precursor to note is while Alethia is often referred to as “Alethia Browning Tanner” this name is historically inaccurate. Key documents, such as her manumission papers and her final will and testament, consistently show that she signed her name as “Lethe Tanner” — Lethe, likely a shortened form of Alethia, reflects the name she preferred and will be used accordingly in this article. The first appearance of “Browning” in connection to Lethe occurred in 1868, four years after her death, in the report ‘ Special Report of the Commissioner of Education on the Condition and Improvement of Public Schools in the District of Columbia’. The report makes many factual inaccuracies, such as misrepresenting the means Lethe used to purchase her sister’s freedom. Such errors undermine its credibility as a source for remembering Lethe’s life and reflect a recurring pattern of government documents inaccurately depicting the identities of enslaved individuals. Reconstructing Lethe’s life requires us to fill in the gaps left by archival silences, an endeavor historian Annette Gordon-Reed describes as an “imaginative enterprise”. To minimise conjecture, we turn to firsthand accounts, such as those of Susan Cook, Tanner’s four-time great-niece, whose memory has been preserved through generational rediscovery. Interviewing Cook has been indispensable to this article, offering unique insights into the significance of Lethe’s story and the lessons it holds. Given, however, there is a scarcity of these accounts, interpretive frameworks are useful to understand and reconstruct Lethe’s life. Her story is often placed within the self-emancipation historiographical narrative, advanced by scholars like James McPherson and Michael Johnson, which emphasises the agency of enslaved people in securing their freedom through independent resistance, separate from abolitionists and external forces. However, this framework is ill-suited to Lethe’s story and fails to do it justice. The narrow focus on the Civil War era overlooks earlier acts of resistance in the early nineteenth century and remains heavily androcentric, often neglecting the experiences of enslaved Black women. Moreover, and most importantly, its emphasis on exceptional acts of freedom obscures the broader, collective dimensions of resistance that shaped enslaved people’s lives and aspirations. Instead, I adopt Tamika Nunley’s commendable concept of ‘self-making’ as a more fitting lens for interpreting Lethe’s life. Unlike the traditional self-emancipation narrative, which centers on the singular act of achieving legal freedom, self-making explores the ongoing process of constructing a self-determined identity, even within systems that denied enslaved individuals legal or social recognition. This article maintains a clear distinction between freedom and liberty: while freedom often marks the breaking of legal barriers, liberty reflects the broader, ongoing struggle to fashion an identity and live on one’s own terms. Saidiya Hartman’s concept of “afterlives” resonates strongly here, arguing that America’s ideals of “democratic individuality” often failed to extend to formerly enslaved women who continued to face systemic constraints rooted in race and gender even after manumission. Lethe, as a free woman in a slave-holding region with no tangible power or resources to rely on, exemplified this struggle. Her afterlife was defined by sustaining her produce cart business until 1853, purchasing the freedom of her relatives, and establishing a school — all of which reflected her enduring commitment to community and liberation. Originally enslaved on the Chelsea Plantation in Upper Marlboro, Maryland — first by Tobias Belt and later by his daughter, Rachel Belt Pratt — Lethe began her path to freedom as a produce vendor on today’s Lafayette Square. Through her earnings, she was able to purchase her own freedom, a significant moment documented in July 1810 when she provided $275 to Joseph Daugherty. Given the legislation of the time barring a direct transaction, Daugherty paid Pratt on Lethe’s behalf. The purchasing of her own freedom was not a transactional, isolated act of emancipation, it was rather the culmination of a longer history of her “small” — as Cook describes — everyday acts of self-making which served as catalysts for lasting change. This narrative challenges conventional accounts that often exclude figures like Lethe from exploration within the archival record, merely reducing them to generalised and simplified examples of emancipation. Moreover, her freedom was the product of sustained identity formation, resistance, and self-determination within a system built to suppress her very existence. Cedric Robinson’s outline of ‘racial capitalism’ further contextualises her within this system that relied on the persistent subjugation of Black people in the American labour economy. Lethe’s navigation of this system reflects her awareness of how her race and gender shaped her proximity to the law and how self-making involved managing diverse pathways between her imposed social position and reimagining herself outside their confines. Viewed through this lens, Lethe not only resisted the structures of power that sought to define her identity but actively destabilised them; challenging the misconception of passivity, showing that resistance was not confined to overt or isolated acts but included the transformative power of striving for identities that transcended the legal and social constraints of their time. Fifteen years after her initial manumission, Lethe remained persistent, paying approximately $1,400 in multiple installments to secure the freedom of her sister Laurana Cook in 1826, along with her six children – reflective of her selflessness and commitment to family over her own financial benefit. Drawing on N. Z. Davis’s micro-historiographical framework, which focuses on human agency within systemic contexts to reveal broader social practices and collective mentalities, Lethe’s story demonstrates that freedom was neither a singular nor isolated act. Instead, it was part of a larger, interconnected network of community efforts that made her emancipation — and that of those around her — possible. Hartman’s concept of afterlives is evident in Lethe’s post emancipation life, as her establishment of the Bell School in 1807 fostered an ethos of community-driven resilience and self-determination, particularly for young girls, enabling Black women to articulate their readiness to assume societal roles otherwise denied to them. Lethe’s legacy also included providing her nephew, John F. Cook Sr., with the space to establish both his church and school in her home; institutions which played a crucial role in educating and raising the next generation of key figures, including Charles Hamilton Houston, who would go on to drive the Civil Rights Movement. These vital educational institutions symbolised Lethe’s commitment to creating a self-sufficient community, showcasing the vibrancy and resilience of free Black Washingtonians in the early nineteenth century. By the time of the Civil War, this commitment of personally freeing more than eighteen individuals contributed to the District’s transformation into a majority-free Black population, growing from 2,549 in 1810 to 11,131 by 1860. Yet, the shadow of slavery persisted, as enslaved women faced exploitation from neighbouring counties in response to the declining Chesapeake tobacco economy between 1800 and 1820. For free Black residents during the Antebellum period, the dangers were severe, with violence and laws that made their freedom precarious. Without freedom papers, they could be legally abducted and sold back into slavery in the Deep South. This underscores the deeply entrenched systems of power designed to maintain the status quo — structures that have endured for centuries. For Lethe, self-making was not solely about achieving freedom, both before and during her afterlife, but also redefining her relationship to her context, her space and her community’s future. Indeed, the sociological context of Lafayette Square carries layered spatial significance. Lethe’s reality unfolded in the shadow of the White House and Congress; buildings which imposed the normative and legal powers of the legislative and executive branches of government, where both de jure and de facto influence was felt upon those in proximity. Her daily occupation of this public space directly challenged the exclusion enforced by these surrounding powers, exemplifying sustained resistance to systemic oppression. Rather than relying on isolated acts of defiance, Lethe actively shaped an identity that transcended her immediate circumstances. This reflects a broader mentality of using contested spaces to challenge restrictive definitions of identity and rights, a dynamic that continues to resonate today as Lafayette Square remains a vital site of protest. Lethe’s life, situated at the intersection of personal agency and spatial significance, exemplifies how Black women’s self-making was both an act of resistance and a means of reshaping their environments. As Nunley asserts, Lethe transformed the square into a stage for experimentation and the assertion of freedoms at a time when the nation’s capital was still defining itself. Underscoring, however, the paradoxical nature of the District itself: while the nation’s founders envisioned the city as a beacon of Republican virtues, it instead embodied the contradictions of a country built on the lack of freedom of many. Most importantly, through the claims she made, the life she built, and the identities she forged, Lethe laid the foundation for a free Black Washington, asserting agency and equality in a space that professed liberty while excluding Black women from its vision of freedom. Defiance of these codes underscores the navigational strategies these women must have employed. Historians have uncovered aspects of these women’s experiences through sources like runaway advertisements, vigilance networks, kidnapping cases, and judicial accounts, including criminal records. Reading these sources against the grain reveals how the Black codes of the time shaped the legal parameters of Black women’s claims to liberty, even after manumission in their ‘afterlives’. What is particularly striking about Lethe’s case is her absence from criminal records, suggesting she navigated the law with remarkable skill and resilience, in an atmosphere overtly against her. This absence speaks to the power of perseverance — a legacy embodied in her daily acts of showing up and refusing to be erased. Remembering Lethe in this way defies the long-standing narratives that underestimate the agency of enslaved women. Instead, offering a deeper understanding of the resilience and creativity Black women employed in envisioning, surviving, and giving meaning to liberty in nineteenth-century America. As a first-generation Washingtonian, I was deeply moved to learn about Lethe’s remarkable history. It was surprising — and somewhat disheartening — that her story had remained so unfamiliar to me, and I assume to many others. Lethe’s contributions are pivotal not only to the history of Washington DC, but also speaks to the resilience and ingenuity of marginalised individuals whose voices have been overlooked in traditional archives and grander historical narratives — particularly in women’s history, where their values are often dismissed since they are rarely articulated according to their own terms. Uncovering and honouring Lethe’s life demonstrates the value of ‘anecdotal’ history in amplifying the experiences of those too often excluded from conventional historiography. Personal stories like hers are deeply impactful and vital for understanding the complexity of the past. And by piecing together her legacy, we can better appreciate her profound influence and ensure her story takes its rightful place in the broader tapestry of American history. Cook’s recollections, alongside public commemorations, serve as a bridge between Lethe’s life and her enduring influence. Alessandro Portelli’s insights on oral history are particularly valuable in this instance, as they highlight how memories, even when factually inaccurate, can capture the emotional truths of historical events. Lethe’s legacy is preserved through public commemorations and contemporary accounts from descendants like Cook, reflecting how these spaces become a continuum of her contributions, enshrining her legacy for future generations. Events and spaces such as Alethia Tanner Day and Alethia Tanner Park continue to honour her memory, hosting activities centered on the same values of community building she championed back in the early nineteenth century. As Cook describes, “it’s a full-time job” to uncover Lethe’s story — research continuously emerges, reshaping our interpretations of her. Though her story has often been overlooked, its resonance with people is undeniable. “The heroes we seek aren’t always those in power” as Cook says, “knowing these stories of people who toiled without the fanfare or the accolades from the powers that be”, reminds us of the strength and determination of ordinary individuals. These untold stories need to be celebrated. The individual nature of her story is deeply impactful, helping us understand that these were real people with names, and that their lives truly mattered. To fully understand her story, one must consider the turbulent environment in which she lived: Washington DC was in its early stages of development, with the capital city still under construction. The conflicts and challenges of that time resonate with the struggles and complexities of today, making her story all the more relevant. Lethe’s legacy reflects not only her resilience but also the countless untold stories of others like her. Her story endures not only in the historical record but also in the collective memory of those who honour and preserve it, as Cook reflects, “she was a linchpin to the successes that my family was able to have after that”, underscoring how Lethe’s influence shaped the course of the lives of her family and likely many others. There is still much to uncover about Lethe and other “self-makers” of her time. Lethe’s memory, therefore, transcends her individual achievements, highlighting the transformative power of collective agency in formulating new identities and strategies for liberation — defying the racial and gendered boundaries of their time and leaving legacies that influenced subsequent generations. Bibliography   Primary sources   Special Report of the Commissioner of Education on the Condition and Improvement of     Public Schools : In the District of Columbia , HathiTrust  (Department of           Education: Commissioner of Education , June 1868)           < https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=umn.31951000947607p&seq=9 > Susan, Cook, ‘Lethe Tanner Was Here’, Lethe Tanner Was Here , 2014    < https://www.alethiatanner.com/transcriptions > Tanner, Alethia ’Lethe’, LAST WILL and TESTAMENT: ALETHIA LETHE TANNER ,         1847 < https://www.alethiatanner.com/transcriptions > Tanner, Alethia Lethe, and Senator Richard Mentor Johnson, BILL of SALE: Oscar Fitz,            Allen Cook, William Cook, Alfred Cook, Betsey Cook, John Cook, and Their        Mother Laurana Cook , 1826 < https://www.alethiatanner.com/transcriptions > Thornton, William, and Joseph Daugherty , MANUMISSION: For Lethe Tanner     (Recorder of Deeds, 1810)     Secondary sources   Alessandro Portelli, The Death of Luigi Trastulli, and Other Stories: Form and Meaning          in Oral History  (Albany, N.Y.: State University of New York Press, 1991) Arzate, Héctor Alejandro, ‘The Long History of Black Street Vendors in D.C.’, DCist       (WAMU 88.5 - American University Radio, 2023)           < https://dcist.com/story/23/03/14/dc-alethia-tanner-black-street-vendors/ > Baptist, Edward E., The Half Has Never Been Told: Slavery and the Making of    American Capitalism  (New York: Basic Books, 2016) Crawford-Lackey, Katherine, ‘Public Protest as a Claim to Citizenship: Twentieth-      Century Occupations of Washington, D.C. And Their Role in Public Memory’   (2020)          < https://www.proquest.com/docview/2396699103?sourcetype=Dissertations%20        &%20Theses> Daniels, Omari, ‘Alethia Tanner Day Honors Enslaved Woman Who Bought Her     Freedom’, Washington Post , 24 July 2022    < https://www.washingtonpost.com/history/2022/07/23/alethia-tanner-day-noma-     park/> Gordon-Reed, Annette, The Hemingses of Monticello: An American Family  (W. W.    Norton & Company, 2009) Hartman, Saidiya V., Scenes of Subjection: Terror, Slavery, and Self-Making in  Nineteenth-Century America  (New York ; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997) Johnson, Michael P., ‘Denmark Vesey and His Co-Conspirators’, The William and Mary      Quarterly , 58.4 (2001), 915 < https://doi.org/10.2307/2674506 > Jones, Carla J., Hutchins Center for African & African American Research, Harvard  University, Cambridge, MA., and Oxford University Press (USA) African     American Studies Center., ‘Enslaved: Peoples of the Historical Slave Trade’, ed.  by Jennifer Mojica Santana, Enslaved.org < https://enslaved.org/fullStory/16-23-       126837/> McPherson, James M., ‘Who Freed the Slaves?’, Proceedings of the American       Philosophical Society , 139.1 (1995), 1–10 < http://www.jstor.org/stable/986716 > Natalie Zemon Davis, The Return of Martin Guerre (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard        University Press, 1983) Nunley, Tamika Y, At the Threshold of Liberty (UNC Press Books, 2021) Robinson, Cedric J, Black Marxism: The Making of the Black Radical Tradition  (United   States: The University of North Carolina Press, 2000) The White House Historical Association, ‘Self-Emancipation in Lafayette Park’, WHHA      (En-US) < https://www.whitehousehistory.org/self-emancipation-in-lafayette-park >

Photograph of Màiri Mhòr with her spinning whorl. 1 January 1890. Wikipedia Commons. < https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mairi_Mhor_nan_Oran.jpg > [accessed 18 December 2024] Ma thog neach eisir ann an cliabh, No maorach ann am meadhon mara, Théid an cur fo ghlais ‘s fo dhìon, Le laghan diongmhalt’ dìon an fhearainn. If someone lifts a creel with an oyster, or in the open sea they find a clam, they’ll be apprehended and locked away, under the law protecting the land. -Brosnachadh nan Gaidheal / Incitement of the Gael In the mid-eighteenth century, an Enlightenment-driven push for economic progress and agricultural 'improvement' swept through Scotland, dramatically altering the Highland way of life. The concept of dùthchas , the inalienable right of clansmen to protection, security, and a share of ancestral land, was forsaken as chiefs, who had once acted as custodians of communal land, became commercial landlords focused on profit. The first phase of the Highland Clearances (1780-1825) saw clan chiefs adopt new agricultural practices to maximise estate income. Prior to ‘improvement’, the social structure of Highland township, called the baile , had consisted of common land and the traditional run rig system. This was where arable land was divided into strips and rotated among tenants, and families took collective responsibility for agricultural work and survival. However, this system was abandoned as common grazing land was fenced off, the baile was dismantled, and crofting communities were established alongside large-scale sheep farming.  Land became the clan chief’s personal property, and their clansmen became their tenants. These tenants, known as crofters, were assigned small landholdings insufficient to sustain their families. Forced to take on supplementary employment in local industries, like fishing or kelp, to survive, they were further disadvantaged by short-term leases that provided no guaranteed access to land, leaving them vulnerable to evictions and displacement by sheep farming. The region was further strained by the second wave of clearances (1825-1855), which was marked by recurrent famine, the decline of the kelp and fishing industries, widespread evictions, and mass emigration to industrial centres such as Glasgow, and beyond.  The daughter of a crofter and one of the most influential and celebrated Gaelic poets of all time, Màiri Mhòr nan Òran (‘Big Mary of the Songs’) was born Mary MacDonald at Skeabost on the Isle of Skye in March 1821. She witnessed the devastating effects of the Clearances on her community and, at age 50, became a key political voice in highlighting the Highlanders’ struggles, especially those displaced by the Clearances. Her poetry and songs, as this article will highlight, sought to preserve the endangered Gaelic language and culture, galvanised a sense of identity, protested against unjust rents and land practices, and incited support for the Crofters’ Wars of the 1880s.  In place of a formal education, her childhood on Skye equipped her with ‘ample experience in the management of cattle and all that pertains to the conduct of a house in the olden days, from cooking to cloth making, and, further, in storing her mind with the lays and lyrics of her native isle’. Poetry and song were intrinsic to Gaelic society and village bards remained important figures and spokespersons for their communities until after the Second World War. They recorded ‘the human experiences of the Gaels… they react to every major event affecting the lives of their community, and their songs mirror their folk-history’. These songs, which were passed down orally through generations, relied on use of ‘formulae, fugitive passages, runs, [and] stock characters’, and, most importantly, the acceptance of the piece by the community to survive. In many ways, Bateman explains, Màiri’s compositions were ‘an extension of the 18,000 lines of traditional poetry she knew by heart’. Although she could read English and Gaelic, she was never taught to write and relied on existing rhyme schemes to compose her songs- blending new words with old tunes. However, it wasn’t until 1872, when she was 50 years old, that Màiri began to share her poetry. Amidst the Great Highland Famine of 1846, which blighted potato crops for a whole decade and initiated a momentous surge in emigration, Màiri relocated to Inverness to marry a shoemaker called Isaac Macperson at the age of 27. Upon his death in 1871, she was pushed to find employment to support her four surviving children, and found work as a domestic servant. Unfortunately, this was short-lived as Màiri was accused of stealing clothing by her employer. Despite claims of her innocence, she was charged and sentenced to forty days of imprisonment. It was this humiliation and miscarriage of justice which changed the course of her life as she later claimed: S e na dh’fhulaing mi de thamailt a thug mo bhàrdachd beò  (‘It’s the injustice I suffered that brought my poetry to life’).  This mortifying experience lent her poetry an ‘unrivalled emotional drive’ and an abiding resentment of the establishment which encouraged her to link her sense of personal injustice to that of the crofters. Bitterly, in Tha mi sgìth de luchd na Beurla  (I'm tired of the English speakers), she expressed frustration, lamenting that if she was ‘in my own land, where I was first raised, there was not any English-speaker in the service of the Crown, who would look on me unjustly’.  The same year, Màiri joined the waves of mass emigration which served as a safety valve in the Highlands for the ‘rurally impoverished, hungry and evicted’, and relocated again to Glasgow, and then Greenock in 1876. In Glasgow she enrolled at the Royal Infirmary and studied nursing and obstetrics at the Royal Infirmary for five years before practising as a midwife. Here she was welcomed by a vibrant community of Highlanders, regularly participating in Gaelic music hall culture and performing at social gatherings and cèilidhs. In 1892, she competed at the first ever National Mòd in Oban, a celebration of Gaelic language and culture which gave poets another platform to showcase their talent, though she did not win a medal. Màiri’s poetry played a significant public function for her newfound community of displaced Highlanders for whom her songs were created to be nostalgic and comforting.   In ‘When I Was Young’, she painted a highly romanticised image of her childhood on Skye and mourned the modernisation of the island where lies ‘Andrew’s croft, overgrown with nettles’, and the steamship which carried her away: Nuair chuir mi cùl ris an eilean chùbhraidh, ‘S a ghabh mi iùbhrach na smùid gun seòl, Nuair shéid i ‘n dùdach ‘s a shìn an ùspairt, ‘S a thog i cùrsa o Thir a’ Cheo; Mo chridhe brùite ‘s na deòir le m’ shùilean, A’ faibh gu dùthaich gun sùrd, gun cheòl When I turned my back on the fragrant island, And boarded the steam-ship with has no jib, when she blew her horn and began her churning and made her way from the Isle of Mist, my heart was broken, my eyes tear-filled, leaving for a land without cheer or song By reminding emigrants of their endangered way of life and promoting Gaelic culture in urban centres, Màiri’s music helped foster a growing ‘migrant Gaelic cultural consciousness’ which, in turn, contributed to the ‘politicisation of crofter unrest’. As Newby highlighted, a surge in temporary migration brought urban Highlanders into direct contact with radical reform philosophies, such as Irish Land Agitation.  As a result, second-generation Highlanders in urban Scotland became some of the most enthusiastic supporters of the crofters agitation in the 1880s. Furthermore, Gaelic songs and poetry served as a powerful medium for distributing information to Gaelic speakers who couldn’t read English and, therefore, were marginalised by the printed press. As such, poets could wield significant political influence. This tradition stemmed from medieval Gaelic Scotland where, through the public praise or ridicule of clan chiefs, skilled poets were tools for the endorsement of the social and political status quo. With the decline of traditional Gaelic learning throughout the 17th century, the role of poets developed. Poetry was increasingly written by less formally educated, largely unpaid, or even illiterate poets, who shifted their focus from clan chiefs to celebrating the common man and leaders as heroes. By the 19th century, as Meek illustrates, every community in the Highlands possessed its own poet. As the struggle for land rights gained momentum after 1874, poets emerged as spokespersons for their communities.  While this role was not exclusive to male poets, as Gaelic culture has a strong tradition of female poets, women were often challenged by a paradoxical ‘threshold’ status. There are many examples of women possessing a high status within Gaelic oral tradition, such as Màiri nighean Alasdair Ruaidh and Mairghread nighean Lachlainn, and Ò Baoill has advocated that the better-known women poets after 1600 were ‘public poets’ in the sense that their work dealt with political rather than personal or lyrical subjects. However, it is also true that their gender made them vulnerable to suspicion, and even accusations of witchcraft. For example, both Màiri nighean Alasdair Ruaidh and Mairghread Nighean Lachlainn were reportedly buried face down. Ò Baoill linked this to a Norse tradition for burying witches, suggesting that these two female poets may have been viewed ‘by the tradition-bearers as wielders of sinister supernatural powers’. McKean likewise has identified these traditions as acknowledgment or punishment for their bardic activities. As a result, women were often confined to composing lullabies and wool-felting songs, rather than the male-dominated grand panegyrics dedicated to clan heroes. In this light, Màiri’s accomplishments can be read as exceptional as her commentary on the Highland clearances transformed her into an icon of Gaelic poetry. On the other hand, however, older women were often assigned roles as ‘storytellers, teachers, and advice-givers’. It should be considered that the highly emotional nature of the clearances, along with the role of women as preservers of family and tradition, may have enabled Màiri to assume this matriarchal poetic role, gaining widespread societal approval, and becoming a powerful voice in defence of the Highland people. Her exceptional success and status within Gaelic tradition can then be partly attributed to societal upheaval which created a space for women’s voices within public and politicised discourse and allowed her to break through barriers that typically confined women to domestic genres. Màiri’s poetic and political voice was recognised and harnessed by Highland politicians. During her trial in 1872, Màiri was offered support by John Murdoch, the editor of the Highlander  newspaper, a high-profile advocate for land reform, Gaelic education, and Scottish home rule. Support was also offered by Charles Fraser Mackintosh, the Liberal MP for Inverness and a proponent of land reform, who acted on Màiri’s behalf during the trial. Whilst likely that Mackintosh's actions were elicited by Murdoch’s influence, the nature of Mackintosh’s interaction with Màiri remains unclear. What is certain, however, is that their relationship continued as two years later, during his campaign for the Inverness Burghs, Mackintosh enlisted Màiri’s help to create a sympathetic image among his constituents. This involved composing songs in support for land reform, such as  Nuair a chaidh na ceithir ùr oirre which named Mackintosh alongside other leading land campaigners. As Meek noted: ‘The power of poetry was no romantic delusion; it could help to make or break the prospective candidate.’ Unlike other ‘township bards’ or ‘community poets’, such as Alexander MacLean of Glendale, Skye, and John MacLean of Balemartin, Tiree, Màiri’s allegiance was not confined to a single district. Her mobility- from Skye to Inverness to Glasgow- and her active role in rallying support for Mackintosh elevated her profile and allowed her to cultivate a ‘greater bardic persona’. As McKean notes, her village, ‘if she were to be called a village bard, would have to be the entire Gàidhealtachd [Gaelic region], wherever Gaels were downtrodden’. Màiri’s most famous works, ‘The Song of Ben Li’ and ‘Incitement of the Gaels’ were composed upon her return to Skye in 1882 at the age of 61. This coincided with the outbreak of the Crofters War at the Battle of the Braes. Despite Richard’s findings that there were approximately fifty known instances of Highland resistance between 1780 and 1855,  historians of the Highland clearances have long puzzled over the Highlanders’ failure to actively resist landlord policies before the 1880s. Resistance was typically ‘highly localised, sporadic and uncoordinated’, and were often desperate, spontaneous responses to the threat of eviction that easily crumbled in the face of police or military intervention.  The first example of direct action by Skye crofters occurred in Valtos, Skye, 1881, in the form of a rent strike against their landlord’s high rent and threat of eviction. The success of this altercation, as Newby highlights, had two crucial short-term consequences: it sparked significant publicity which spread unrest throughout the island, creating a ‘siege mentality’ and an ‘air of confrontation’; and it was widely publicised through the wider British and Irish press. The scene was then set for the famed ‘Battle of the Braes’ which kicked off other widespread acts of protest on Highland estates.   In the decades preceding the battle, evictions had caused serious overcrowding of the land in the township of Braes. The landowner, Lord MacDonald, exacerbated the situation when he denied the crofters access to common grazing land, instead leasing it to a sheep farmer. Despite being forced onto smaller, less fertile plots, the crofter’s rent was not reduced. When the tenancy for the land came up for renewal in 1881 due to the new tenant’s inability to pay rent, a petition was sent to ask for the restoration of former pastures. This was staunchly denied. In retaliation, the crofters proactively organised a movement to regain the grazing rights they had lost 17 years prior, and defiantly grazed their livestock on Ben Lee and withheld rent payments until their right was redressed. On rent collection day, the 8th of December 1881, none of the Braes tenants paid their rent and were threatened with eviction.  Màiri described the events in ‘Incitement of the Gaels’. In contrast to elegies, such as ‘When I was Young’, which lamented the social and physical changes on Skye, this song followed the tradition of stirring the bravery of warriors before battle, and aimed to incite crofters to engage in acts of land agitation. In response to the rent strikes, the landowners: Sgrìobh iad àithne dhaingeann dhian, Do’n ionad air nach dèan sinn labhairt, Na h-aingle is am fear nach b’fhiach A thighinn a riaghladh lagh an fhearainn. They wrote an urgent pressing letter, to the accursed angels and that scurrilous man, stationed at the place we will not mention to come and enforce the law of the land The ‘scurrilous man’ in question was Sheriff William Ivory. In April 1882, a sheriff officer left Portree with witnesses to serve eviction notices to eleven tenants identified by the landowner as ringleaders. On the way, however, they were met by a large crowd of protestors who chased them back to Portree and burnt the papers. Having obstructed the officer from fulfilling his legal duties, the protestors committed the crime of deforcement. In response, the authorities contacted Sheriff Ivory, instructing him to gather 50 officers from Glasgow and Inverness to apprehend the guilty parties. Nuair leugh Ivory an àithne, Chùnnt e chuid a b’fheàrr d’a aingil Ivory counted out the best of his angels, having read all that was in the demand While the arrests themselves were not disputed, as officers passed through the township of Gedintailor on their return journey to Inverness, riots started when it became clear that the men were being removed from Skye. As the officers traversed a narrow gorge and crossed the burn, Allt nan Gobhlag , a crowd gathered and the Battle took place.  Nuair a ràinig iad na glinn, ‘S ann bha na suinn nach dèanadh mearachd Air an crioslachadh le fìrinn, ‘S cha robh innleachd air am prannadh. When Ivory and his army reached the glens, before them stood the men that wouldn’t falter girded about with righteousness, Evil had not made them slacken. In addition to praising the brave men who stood against Sheriff Ivory and his forces, Màiri highlighted the role of women in the ‘Song of Ben Li’, thanking ‘ The kind women who carry themselves so courteously, their skulls were broken on the slopes of Ben Li ’. While the vivid imagery arguably delivers a shock value and capitalises off sensitive attitudes which would be disgusted by the violent treatment of up-standing women, it also accurately reflects female agency. As Richards later recognised, ‘Highland riots were women’s riots’.  The Scotsman reported on 20 April 1883: ‘one poor woman, said to be enceinte, was seriously hurt- cut terribly about the head with a stone or baton. She was left bleeding and fainting on the road side. Another old woman said to be about seventy years of age, was hurled down a steep hill and badly injured’. Despite the violence of the account, It was also largely thought that women could protest with impunity and were less likely to be injured by constables and army troops compared to their male counterparts.  Praising the community’s courage, the poem is an active appeal to crofters on Skye to resist their landlords’ extractions. Significantly, Màiri lays the blame on Ivory. Nicknamed ‘the Satan’ in the ‘Song of Ben Li’ Màiri exhibited a vendetta against the man, who she perceived as a threat against her local community, and celebrated his sudden death in 1886 with a mock elegy which held him up to public censure and ridicule. Most poets craved the preservation of the traditional Gaelic community and even after the clearances, the concept of dùthchas  remained entrenched. The Napier Commission, in 1883, observed that the poor still held  ‘much reverence for the owner of the soil’. Typically, nineteenth century Gaelic poets blamed tenants, tacksmen, sheep-farmers, and even sheep for the Highland plight; they rarely singled out individual landowners, and criticisms of the landed class were often anonymous.   Màiri was not immune to this trap and was guilty of romanticising a ‘golden age of kindly cooperation and harmony’ by not critiquing land-owners or referencing the 1846 famine. However, this is perhaps less surprising due to the fact that the Laird of Skeabost, Lachlan MacDonald, provided Màiri with a rent-free cottage upon her return to Skye.  She often blamed the English for the conditions on Skye, as Tanner highlights, ‘though it was very plain that not one clearance had been made in Skye by anyone who had not a name as Gaelic as her own’. Instead of traditional hardships or natural disasters, as Devine highlights, it was the intrusion of a new, foreign, economic order, imposed from the outside that threatened the local community, and alarmed the poets. The presence of lowland shepherds, officials, and gunboats, and the removal of people, were a perceived violation and infringement of the traditional system of mutual support between tenants and landlords. Following the battle, five crofters were found guilty and charged with ‘deforcing an officer of the law in the execution of his duty’ before the Sheriff Court in Inverness Castle in May 1882. However, the crofters continued to protest, and tenants continued to graze their stock on Ben Li. Further writs were issued in 1882, with deforcement committed again when the sheriff officers attempted to serve summonses on the 2nd of September and the 24th of October 1882. Finally, at the end of 1882, Lord MacDonald compromised and the crofters were victorious, able to graze their sheep on Ben Li. Although the Battle of the Braes did not directly lead to immediate legislation protecting crofters’ rights,  it coincided with the emergence of ‘an effective political campaign for crofters rights’ and was instrumental in the establishment of the 1883 Napier Commission. Throughout 1882, authorities became increasingly cognisant of the parallels of the Highland and Irish land questions. Irish agrarian protest had pressured the British government into passing the 1881 Irish Land Act and critics of land reform were increasingly highlighting the growing influence of ‘Fenianism’ among crofters. More than any other factor, such as growing public support for the crofters’ cause and the determination of the Highland League which was formed in 1884 (who advocated security of tenure, fair rents, and the redistribution of land to crofters, and were instrumental in raising public awareness and widespread support),  Macoll argues that it was the anxiety of the governments to stem the rise of Highland agrarian and political discontent before it reached Irish proportions that pushed them to establish the Commission, and forced government legislation on the crofters’ behalf.  Indeed, Cameron similarly posited that the formation of the Commission and following legislation was the first time that the British government acknowledged the persistent and unique nature of the Highland issue and paid sustained interest in the region. This culminated in the drafting and passing of the Crofters’ Holding (Scotland) Act of 1886. This was a major victory for the movement as it limited the powers of landlords to evict their tenants and granted several key rights to all crofters, regardless of their rent. These included: security of tenure, the right to fair rents (determined by impartial bodies), and compensation for land improvements. It also recognised their right to use natural resources like common grazing land and materials like peat, seaweed, and heather. While it did not fully resolve the crofters’ demands (for example, it failed to protect the needs of landless cottars or redistribute land), it was a significant step forward and set the stage for further land reform. As Cameron explained, ‘it did not give the crofters the world, but it made them secure in their own little patch, and that was no small gain.’ The land agitations of the 1880s were perceived to be a series of battles by contemporary poets and the public, beginning with the first documented legal victory for Highland crofters at the Bernera Riot of 1874 in the Outer Hebrides; the Battle of the Braes in 1882; and the General Election of November-December in 1885. When the Voting Act of 1884 extended suffrage to many crofters, Màiri was called upon again to support parliamentary election campaigns, particularly for Land Law Reform Association candidates in the 1885 and 1886 elections. The Crofters Movement had nominated candidates in all the crofting counties and northern burghs, and five were successfully elected for parliament-including her friend, Charles Fraser Mackintosh. As Devine stipulates, it would be wrong to see a causal relationship between the general election of 1885 and the 1886 legislation as the main clauses had been drafted the previous year with minimal involvement by the five candidates. However, Gaelic poets had a remarkable involvement in this victory because they empowered people to discriminate between candidates and participate in elections. In doing so, the franchise was portrayed as a weapon no less effective than the sword, with the ballot box as a battleground.  Màiri Mhòr nan Òran remained on Skye until her death on the 7th of November 1898, aged 77. It is thanks to Lachlann MacDonald that her prose was preserved as he paid for the transcription of some 8000 lines of Màiri’s poetry, which was published in 1891 in a volume entitled Gaelic Songs and Poems . Due to her involvement in ensuring the success of the crofter candidates in the 1885-6 elections, Màiri has been crowned the Bard of the movement. Through her works, which functioned both as tools for cultural preservation and incitement and galvanised the crofters’ fight for land reform, she remains an iconic figure in Gaelic literature. As Batemen argued, the political forthrightness evident in her work would not be seen in a published form by Scottish women poets until the 1980s. In 2022, she joined the only three Gaelic (and male) writers to be honoured in Makars’ Court in 2022, where Scottish wordsmiths have been honoured since 1998. Here, her words continue to inspire Gaelic speakers to protect their cultural heritage, as her commemorative flagstone reads: Cuimhnichibh gur sluagh sibh/ Is cumaibh suas ur còir (Remember that you are a people / And stand up for your rights). Màiri Mhòr nan Òran’s commemorative flagstone at Makar’s Court - Pickering, Dave.Màiri Mhòr nan Òran is the latest addition to Scotland’s literary greats at Makar’s Court.October 2022. Photograph. North Edinburgh News. < https://nen.press/2022/10/13/mairi-mhor-nan-oran-is-the-latest-addition-to-scotlands-literary-greats-at-makars-court/ > [accessed 18 December 2024] Bibliography Bateman, Meg, ‘Women’s Writing in Scottish Gaelic Since 1750’, in A History of Scottish Women’s Writing , eds. by Douglas Gifford and Dorothy McMillan (Edinburgh University Press, 1997),  pp. 684-701 Bloomfield, Morton W. and Charles W. Dunn,  The Role of the Poet in Early Societies  (Cambridge and Wolfeboro: D. S. Brewer, 1989) Boos, Florence, “We Would Know Again the Fields…’: The Rural Poetry of Elizabeth Campbell, Jane Stevenson and Mary Macpherson’, Tulsa Studies in Women’s Literature , 17.2 (1998), pp. 325-347 Cameron, A. D.,  Go Listen to the Crofters: The Napier Commission and Crofting a Century Ago  (Acair, 1986) Cameron, Ewen A., ‘Journalism in the Late Victorian Scottish Highlands: John Murdoch, Duncan Campbell, and the ‘Northern Chronicle’’, Victorian Periodicals Review,  40.4 (2007), pp. 281-306 Cameron, Ewen A., ‘Politics, Ideology and the Highland Land Issue, 1886 to the 1920s’, The Scottish Historical Review , 72.193 (1993), pp. 60-79 Devine, T. M., Clanship to Crofters’ War: The Social Transformation of the Scottish Highlands (Manchester University Press, 1994) Highlife Highland, ‘Battle of the Braes: Agitation at Braes’ (n.d) < https://www.highlifehighland.com/archives-service/highland-archive-service-online-exhibitions/battle-of-the-braes/battle-of-the-braes-agitation-at-braes/ > [accessed 18 December 2024]  Highlife Highland, ‘Battle of the Braes: The Battle and Trail’ (n.d) < https://www.highlifehighland.com/archives-service/highland-archive-service-online-exhibitions/battle-of-the-braes/battle-of-the-braes-the-battle-and-trail/ > [accessed 18 December 2024] Highlife Highland, ‘Battle of the Braes: The Legacy’ (n.d) < https://www.highlifehighland.com/archives-service/highland-archive-service-online-exhibitions/battle-of-the-braes/battle-of-the-braes-the-legacy/ > [accessed 18 December 2024] Hunter, J., The Making of the Crofting Community  (Edinburgh, 1976) Kerrigan, Catherine, An Anthology of Scottish Women Poets  (Edinburgh University Press, 1991) Lodge, Christine, ‘The clearers and the cleared: women, economy and land in the Scottish Highlands’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Glasgow, 1996) < https://theses.gla.ac.uk/819/#:~:text=Lodge,%20Christine%20(1996)%20The%20clearers%20and%20the%20cleared :> [accessed 6 October 2024] MacColl, Allan W., Land, Faith and the Crofting Community  (Edinburgh University Press, 2022) MacPherson, Hamish, ‘Màiri Mhòr nan Òran: Celebrating one of our greatest Gaelic poets’, National , 9 March 2021 < https://www.thenational.scot/news/19145415.mairi-mhor-nan-oran-celebrating-one-greatest-gaelic-poets/ > [accessed 6 October 2024] McKean, Thomas, ‘A Gaelic Songmaker’s Response to an English-speaking Nation’, Oral Tradition , 7.1 (1992), pp. 3-27 McLeod, Wilson and Michael Newton, The Highest Apple/An Ubhal as Àirde: An Anthology of Scottish Gaelic Literature  (Francis Boutle Press, 2019), Meek, Donald E., Tuath Is Tighearna = Tenants and Landlords : An Anthology of Gaelic Poetry of Social and Political Protest from the Clearances to the Land Agitation, 1800-1890  (Scottish Academic Press for the Scottish Gaelic Texts Society, 1995) Newby, Andrew G., ‘Land and the ‘Crofter Question’ in Nineteenth-Century Scotland’, International Review of Scottish Studies, 35 (2010), pp. 7-36 Ò Baoill, Colm, “Neither Out nor In’: Scottish Gaelic Women Poets 1650-1750’, in Women and the Feminine in Medieval and Early Modern Scottish Writing, eds. By Sarah C. Dunnigan, Marie Harker and Evelyn S. Newlyn (Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), pp. 136-152) ‘Òran Beinn Lì (Song of Ben Li)’, The People’s Voice, n.d.< https://thepeoplesvoice.glasgow.ac.uk/song-ben-li-cathy-ann/ > [accessed 6 October 2024] Orr, Willie, Deer Forests, Landlords and the Crofters  (John Donald, 1982) Richards, Eric, Debating the Highland Clearances  (Edinburgh University Press, 2007) Tanner, Marcus, The Last of the Celts  (Yale University Press, 2004) Withers, Charles W. J., Urban Highlanders: Highland Lowland migration and urban Gaelic culture, 1700-1900  (Tuckwell Press, 1998)

The institution of British government has almost always been dominated by men. Until the 20th century, women simply weren’t allowed to hold active positions or vote. Constance Markievicz was the first woman elected to the House of Commons in 1918 but didn’t serve for political reasons, so the first woman to actually take her seat as an MP and serve was Nancy Witcher Langhorne Astor in 1919. The Duchess of Devonshire campaigning for Fox 1784. Female influence; or, the Devons-e canvas (BM J,3.35) https://www.britishmuseum.org/ picryl.com   150 years before this, the government of early modern Britain was exclusively run by men. However, just because women didn’t hold official titles or positions, didn’t mean that their influence on politics was negligible; quite the opposite in fact. Women were vital contributors to the goings-on of political society and were often integral in parliamentary elections and issues. Described by Elaine Chalus as “social politics” , 18th century women’s influential involvement was an important cog in the mechanics of men’s political careers.   Mary Mee was born between 1752 and 1754 to Benjamin and Elizabeth Mee. She was brought up in a modest household, as her father was a successful banker, but they were not part of the nobility; a situation that would quickly change in her adulthood. Mary had a thorough education growing up, bringing her love of learning as well as an acknowledgement of its importance to her household and children. Mary married Henry Temple, Second Viscount Palmerston on 7 January 1783. Her husband was an exuberant politician; a Member of Parliament for 40 years, he was a passionate Whig and subsequently a follower of Charles James Fox, Britain’s first Foreign Secretary and avid Whig statesman.   Mary placed great importance on education regardless of gender and was adamant all of her children receive a quality education in a variety of subjects. Mary shared an enlightened, liberal mindset and interests with her husband. This made its way into their household through political discussions, education, an awareness of the need to reform, and the cultured and erudite friends they kept. This was no doubt a strong, intellectual foundation for their four children including their eldest Henry John Temple, known as Harry.   Born in 1784, Harry would, in time, succeed his father and become the third Viscount Palmerston, and eventually Prime Minister of Britain in 1855. The key factor these two early modern political celebrities had in common was Mary. Henry Sr was already in the midst of British politics when he wed Mary Mee but with Mary by his side they continued to grow as an elite family with enviable political and social clout, as well as raise one of the most well-known Whig Prime Ministers of the 19th century. During his university studies Harry’s father passed away and he inherited all of the Palmerston land and titles becoming the third viscount Palmerston. Due to this rise in status, Harry no longer had to actually sit his examinations to pass but nevertheless, requested that he still did. This illustrates the importance he put on education and learning, just like his mother.   A large aspect of elite women’s lives was social, especially if their family was politically inclined. They would hold dinners and outings, attend gatherings, plays, weekends to country houses, balls; many with the hope of taking part in some political discussion or outreach, whether subtle or not. Women were the behind-the-scenes players when it came to politics. They would network, converse, and find the latest news, eventually relaying all of it back to their husbands. Mary was no exception, as her daily diary from 1791 shows a multitude of events attended and people met. On Thursday 10th February Mary writes “visited all ye morning”  on the 18th she “dined at Lord Malmsbury only Ly M Sir Gilbert . .”  and on the 20th  “went first to Lord Guildfords, then to ye first Sunday concert at Lord [Chestlys]” .   This is just a small selection of the types of entries in Mary’s pocket-book and they depict a very busy social calendar with members of elite society. She entertained many politically inclined friends, was familiar with the political events occurring at the time and took part in a multitude of occasions that were liberally motivated (as their household was). This would have provided the opportunity for her to interact with similarly minded friends and acquaintances, and likely discuss some form of political gossip or news. She frequently references dozens of Lords and Ladies of the nobility, either meeting them somewhere or hosting them in her home, exhibiting her social prowess and popularity.   Importantly, it wasn’t only ladies she entertained but men too. Many of these men and women were wrapped up in the politics of the day and Mary had constant access to their bended ears. She rarely mentions Lord Palmerston, begging the question if he was present for these engagements or not. If not, then it would have been up to her alone to socialise and, if needed, carefully politicise the conversation to either supply or gather information. This environment would have provided Harry with a strong foundation, understanding and comfortability with the political world.   The author David Steele for his ODNB  article on Temple, Henry John, third Viscount Palmerston  writes of Mary: “…Viscountess Palmerston, is a rather colourless figure beside her much older husband – equally well-meaning, but never quite at ease among the aristocracy.”  Based on her diaries and journals one could disagree about her colourlessness. Her manuscripts are filled with her many daily meetings, societal exploits, and local and international news, illustrating no lack of involvement among the aristocracy. Although one may have found her thoughtful disposition occasionally lacking the liveliness of her exuberant husband, it does not mean she was a bland, withdrawn, aristocratic housewife. In opposing instances, Mary has also been described as a lively, charming and elegant society hostess, who was witty and affectionate.   The Palmerstons were known for their enlightened life which included lots of travel, education, a love of the arts and social events. This worldly upbringing helped to shape the future PM, especially when it came to his foreign duties and policies. During his busy career, Harry spent a lot of time working for the Foreign Office and was widely acknowledged and celebrated for his role as foreign secretary, an important position during the peak of the British Empire. He was known for being opinionated, bold, open to new ideas and cautious. He possessed a strong nationalist attitude, prioritising Britain and its needs above all else and he worked with various countries and continents all around the world including Russia, Brazil and Africa. His work received both notoriety and nervousness; He was revered by a large portion of the British population, likely due to his nationalist tendencies, but left many members of government lukewarm about his actions and beliefs.   Mary and Henry took their four children on a four-year European tour in 1792. This tour alone would have enriched the minds of every member of the Temple family as they visited a multitude of countries and cities around Europe, absorbing and enjoying their landscapes, societies and cultures including significant events occurring at the time like the French Revolution. With such a diverse and fortunate childhood, it is no wonder Harry was so drawn to and successful with foreign politics. During his career he navigated Britain through years of tumultuous international conflicts. One such instance was the Opium Wars with China during the mid 19th century. As Prime Minister, Harry was partially responsible for the Treaty of Nanjing which ended the Opium Wars in 1842 and benefitted Britain wholly in respect to trade and put the territory of Hong Kong under British rule.   One of Mary’s journals clearly illustrates an interest she had in other countries and cultures. She used her journal almost like a commonplace book and copied out a selection of paragraphs from Bryan Edwards’ natural history book, The History, Civil and Commercial of the British Colonies in the West Indies, Vol I  from 1793. She clearly read the entire book as the selections she made are widely dispersed throughout, and she is undoubtedly very interested in the topics of natural history, geography and world history. These interests likely bled into her children’s education and possibly even to her husband’s enlightened learning. Harry’s choices throughout his political career point towards a passion for travel and global politics. In his early career as an MP, he was offered the prestigious position of Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1809 but refused, and instead took a job as the Secretary at War which was more focused on international dealings.   Another prominent influence in Mary’s life was her correspondent and friend Benjamin Thompson, Reichsgraf von Rumford. Rumford was a scientist, reformer, inventor and nobleman whom Mary and her family met in Milan in 1793 during their European tour. Meeting Rumford provided more opportunities for learning and exploration, especially for Mary. They became fast friends and began a correspondence that lasted 11 years until Mary’s death. They discussed all aspects of their lives, with Rumford sharing his array of ideas with Mary. These included: reforms for the poor, a new and more efficient fireplace for the home, and most notably his contributions to the founding of the Royal Institution in 1799, to which Mary was a devoted patron. This institution, still active today, desired to bring new science and technologies to the public.   Rumford had his new fireplaces installed into all three of the Palmerston’s homes and introduced Mary to some of his societal reforms regarding the poorer population as well as his famous soup recipe, which both no doubt inspired and possibly guided Mary’s philanthropic work. Rumford also gifted one of his diaries to Mary which depicted his travels and activities throughout Europe. This would have provided incredible insight into European events, politics and history, widening Mary’s already learned mind, along with anyone she shared it with. Mary, Henry and their children, would have benefitted greatly from having close ties to a friend like Rumford as well as friends and societies so integrated into the liberal and enlightened ideas of the day like the Royal Institution. Importantly, Mary is specifically noted to have shared many of the new, exciting ideas from the Royal Institution with her son Harry.   Unlike Mary’s journal, her pocket book did not have paragraphs copied from natural history books. It does, however, provide more insight into Mary and her family’s daily life and the ways she influenced them, through education, interests about the world, and otherwise.   The Palmerstons were likely aware of what was happening around London and England, being one of the elite families of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. This does not mean that it was expected for Mary to take a close enough interest that she would copy various news stories and events down in her daily pocket book. However, unsurprisingly, she did. She makes frequent reference to the war happening between Russia and Turkey, discusses a member of the elite who was recently arrested, and the arrival in England of an East India Company ship called the Indiaman which subsequently brought with it items she had ordered from abroad. This awareness of local and international events would add to a person’s knowledge base and equip them with the tools of fluent and impressive conversation when attending the social events of the season. This would have been a valuable skill Harry picked up from his parents.               Finally, one of the most important characteristics any parent can impart to their child is kindness. As a politician, kindness is not always a sought-after trait but injecting it into your actions can have an influential effect on the people you are serving. Harry has been described as having courage and humanity throughout his career and it is arguable that he learned these qualities from his mother, who was dedicated to her philanthropic work. Mary opened up more than one school, including a “school of industry”  just for girls, recognising the need for female education. She also opened up a “soup house”  (like a soup kitchen) and later, a sort of low-cost inn that provided meals for the poorer population. In her journal, she lists a recipe that uses potatoes to make more economical bread for those who couldn’t afford wheat. This might have been a recipe she kept for her soup houses to share with the poor she encountered.    Mary’s philanthropic endeavours came at a crucial time when there were severe food shortages throughout the country. Mary was very competent when it came to keeping account books and running businesses, which shows the proficiency that early modern women possessed, but above all else, was kind. A clear expression of Harry’s humanity came in 1818 when a frustrated man named Lieutenant Davies shot him in an attempt on his life. Despite this malicious-looking act, it was determined that Davies was mentally unwell and subsequently, Harry paid for the man’s legal defence. If Harry exhibited half of the generosity, humility and kindness that Mary demonstrated, there’s no doubt it would have helped him in social situations and his political career. It is possible it gave him more of an appreciation of all social classes and an understanding of what needed to be done to create healthier societies and a prosperous country. This doesn’t mean however, that Harry always made his political decisions with kindness in mind. He was known to be blunt and not afraid to risk conflict if it was in Britain’s best interest, as the Opium Wars with China illustrate. When it came to his home country though, he was passionate and had many goals to help the population including improving worker’s rights and pay.   Mary’s prioritisation and enjoyment of learning, travels, the enlightened friends she kept, her social clout , her ability to entertain and converse both politically and otherwise, and   her awareness, compassion and action towards the world she was living in, provided her with a greater understanding, appreciation and depth of character. These traits would benefit anyone in a position of power, especially where their decisions affected an entire nation.   There is no doubt that Harry, third viscount Palmerston and Prime Minister of Britain’s upbringing, rise to political power and popularity, were influenced greatly by Mary’s admirable intelligence, keen curiosity, educational encouragement, social awareness and prowess. Bibliography Brain, Jessica, ‘Lord Palmerston’, Historic UK , 2024 [accessed 19 November 2024] < https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryUK/HistoryofBritain/Lord Palmerston/#:~:text =He%20was %20a%20remarkable%20figure,and%20respect%20amongst%20the% 20voters.>   Chalus, Elaine, ‘Elite Women, Social Politics, and the Political World of Late Eighteenth- Century England’, The Historical Journal , 43, no. 3 (2000) pp. 669-697   Chlaus, Elaine and M.O. Grenby, ‘Elections in 18th-Century England: Polling, Politics and Participation’, Parliamentary History , Vol. 43, pt. 1 (2024), pp. 5–19   Connell, Brian, Portrait of a Whig Peer  (London: Andre Deutsch, 1957)   James, Frank A. J. 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