Queer Places:
Mount Auburn Cemetery
Cambridge, Middlesex County, Massachusetts, USA
Charles Sumner (January 6, 1811 – March 11, 1874) was an American statesman and United States Senator from Massachusetts. As an academic lawyer and a powerful orator, Sumner was the leader of the anti-slavery forces in the state and a leader of the Radical Republicans in the U.S. Senate during the American Civil War. During Reconstruction, he fought to minimize the power of the ex-Confederates and guarantee equal rights to the freedmen. He fell into a dispute with President Ulysses Grant, a fellow Republican, over the control of Santo Domingo leading to the stripping of his power in the Senate and his subsequent effort to defeat Grant's re-election.
The Hermaphrodite is an attempt on Julia Ward Howe’s
part to understand in explicitly corporeal terms the reasons for her husband, Samuel
Gridley Howe’s deep intimacy with Charles Sumner and--the effect of that
intimacy--his emotional indifference to her. Samuel Gridley Howe wrote to
Sumner in 1844: "When my heart is full of joy or sorrow it turns to you &
yearns for your sympathy; in fact as Julia often says--Sumner ought to have
been a woman & you to have married her."
Both Samuel Howe and Charles Sumner were well-known in their work as
abolitionists as well as in social reform in Boston. Romantic friendship is
the term most often used when discussing close intimate relationships, often
ambiguous in nature, between two same-sex friends in the 19th century. As
social mores allowed men and women to be far more affectionate to members of
the same sex than they often are today, the term ranges from platonic physical
affection to actual romantic relationships. As homosexuality was taboo at
best, illegal at worst, men who we would now consider to be gay or bisexual
were not often capable of openly expressing or fully understanding those
feelings. After all, in the early 19th century, there were no terms, phrases,
or formal community to make sense of the feelings and sensations they
experienced. Romantic friendships not only encouraged men to make pledges of
undying devotion and love, but even allowed for the physical intimacy that
many so desperately craved. It becomes difficult, then, to parse out what was
simply friendship and what was romantic love. What is clear is that these
friendships often formed the basis for some of the strongest relationships a
person could have.
Henry Wadsworth
Longfellow’s best friend, Charles Sumner, exemplifies this perfectly. His
parallel relationships with Henry Longfellow and Samuel Gridley Howe highlight
just how complex these friendships could be. Charles Sumner met both Henry
Longfellow and Samuel Howe in 1837 – Longfellow at a dinner with a mutual
friend, Howe in the middle of a riot. These two friendships proved to be the
most important of Sumner’s life. Sumner often spent his Saturdays with Howe,
and his Sundays with Longfellow. Throughout the week, the trio found excuses
to visit one another at work or at Longfellow’s home. This schedule became a
bit of a nuisance to Sumner’s law partner, George Hillard, who ironically
complained to Longfellow that Sumner was “quite in love with Howe and spends
so much time with him that I begin to feel the shooting pains of jealousy.”
Sumner, for his part, certainly did not deny his attachment. “I am with Howe a
great deal. Bachelors both, we ride and drive together, and pass our evenings,
far into the watches of the night, in free and warm communion.” Trouble was
brewing on the horizon, though, as he continued, “I think, however, he will be
married very soon. What then will become of me? It is a dreary world to travel
in alone.” This fear was not inherently an overreaction on Sumner’s part. In
most cases, the norm of romantic friendships dictated that men were to
distance themselves emotionally and physically after they were married. As a
wife entered the picture, the intimate friend was relegated to secondary
status out of necessity, as Howe himself even hinted at, writing, “I find my
heart yearning more and more for something to love even more than I love you
my dear Sumner: but till I find it let me be all yours.” The “greater love”
that Howe found was a young woman named Julia Ward, later famous for her
women’s rights activism and for penning the lyrics to ‘Battle Hymn of the
Republic’. They were engaged, after a rocky courtship, in February of 1843.
Longfellow followed suit that May, finally winning the heart of his beloved
Fanny Appleton. It only makes sense, then, that Sumner’s reaction to their
engagements was a negative one. “I fear much, dear Henry, that I may have
seemed dull & indifferent to your great happiness when you first broke it to
me this morning… Howe has gone, & now you have gone, & nobody is left with
which I can have sweet sympathy… What shall I do these long summer evenings?
And what will become of those Sabbaths, sacred to friendship and repose?”
Samuel Gridley Howe and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow answered that question in
very different ways. After getting married Howe seemed to swing like a
pendulum, alternating between pushing Sumner away entirely one day and doing
the same to his wife the next. These mixed signals caused problems for all
three of them. Sumner felt that Howe had completely abandoned him, and he fell
into a depressive and suicidal spiral. Mutual friends noticed the change
immediately, including Longfellow, and quickly wrote Howe hoping that he could
help Sumner through his worsening depression. Howe genuinely seemed to try,
reassuring him of his affection and their friendship, and desperately ending
one entreaty with, “All this sermonizing and exhorting will do no good, I
suppose; but I have done what I could. And now, if you will, go on, neglect
exercise, neglect sleep, study late and early, stoop over your table, work
yourself to death, grieve all your friends and break my heart; for where, dear
Charlie, at my time of life, shall I find a friend to love as I love you?”
Sumner’s response to this plea is lost to history, though it seems Howe’s
reassurance did little good, as a few months later Sumner wrote, “I am going
to say what will offend you; but what I trust God will pardon… For me there is
no future either of usefulness or happiness.” Julia Ward Howe, meanwhile, felt
her husband had not abandoned his attachment to Sumner enough. When she caught
her husband writing Sumner yet another letter of reassurance while on their
honeymoon, she exasperatedly joked, “Sumner ought to have been a woman, and
you to have married her.” Howe passed that message on to Sumner himself: with
the caveat that such a thing would never happen; he was monogamous and
marrying both of them would be wrong. Perhaps hoping that it would resolve the
tension all around, Howe encouraged Sumner to lessen his own affections and
get married: Would you were here now, your straps unbuttoned, your waistband
also, your feet in my red slippers, a glass of orvietto in your hand, your
sweet smile on your lips, just as you used to sit in my easy chair of a
Saturday night- then would I tell you how delightful it is to be married, then
would I discourse to you of the deep strong tenderness of a high woman,- of a
woman like my Julia… If you see her, more beautiful than ever, with her arms
around my neck before, her large eyes flashing light, & love, & happiness, and
mine glowing with more than I can show, you will forswear what you are, become
as one of us, & make us still happier in witnessing a happiness we have so
longed for in you. The marriage itself proved a miserable one, for reasons far
beyond Sumner’s role. As Julia Ward Howe later wrote about her marriage, “I do
not see why one should pretend to be excessively happy when one is not, or why
one should try to say to oneself, ‘I love this man,’ when love is a matter out
of the question.” Her relationship with Sumner, oddly enough, fared slightly
better, though it remained tense and often antagonistic. Sumner and Howe never
seemed to fully adjust to the new order of things, though the extent to which
their circumstances changed is unknown. When Sumner became a Senator for
Massachusetts, Howe wrote him, “I have made a rule lately to put in the only
safe place such notes of yours as might be disagreeable to you to have seen by
unfriendly eyes- on the grate. It costs me something to burn a piece of paper
that has been hallowed to my eye by the impress of your hand, but I do it. I
have no confidant for such things- no! not one.” Most of Sumner’s letters to
Howe are now lost to history because of it, and many of Howe’s letters to
Sumner are partially burned or cut to ribbons in return. The Longfellow family
responded in an entirely different way, embracing Sumner as an unofficial
member of the family. It was still a rocky start even for them. Sumner,
reeling from the loss of Howe, seemed inconsolable at the prospect of losing
Henry Longfellow as well, writing, “I am alone, – alone. My friends fall away
from me.” Despite Henry Longfellow’s best efforts and continuing assurances
of love and affection, it would take the work of Fanny Longfellow herself to
avert a total crisis. She involved Sumner in everything, from giving him a
prominent role in their wedding to inviting him as a guest on their honeymoon
trip. “We shall return to Boston tomorrow morning, to leave in the afternoon
cars for Springfield, & both earnestly hope you will be able, & willing to
accompany us… Henry promises to appear at the Office by 11 o’clock & hopes to
find you with your trunk packed.” When the honeymoon ended, Sumner found
himself once again facing an uncertain – and potentially lonely – future. He
wrote to a mutual friend, “Returned last evening, from a bridal tour with
Longfellow and his wife… You will find dear Longfellow married to one who is
beautiful and most lovely… As for me, I am very much alone, and altogether a
poor creature.” Fanny Longfellow quickly resolved that problem as well. When
she and her husband returned from the trip, Sumner found himself invited to
the first dinner in their new home. She sat him at the head of the table,
cementing once and for all his place in their home and in their lives. In the
coming years, the trio fell into a happy routine, with parties, constant
visits to one another, and Sumner staying over every Sunday as a house guest.
Rather than losing his close relationship with Henry, Charles Sumner simply
gained another with Fanny. It is little wonder that as the friendship
blossomed, Sumner cautiously penned an affectionate note to her, writing, “I
met Franklin Dexter last evening; who said – ‘so your friend is engaged at
last’- I replied simply- ‘my friends.’” Much like Howe, Fanny Longfellow also
encouraged Sumner to marry, and was active in the hunt to find him a wife of
his own. Evidence suggests he was not opposed to her assistance and meddling,
and he even briefly attempted a courtship with Julia Ward Howe’s sister,
Louisa. Unfortunately, it never worked. Even Fanny Longfellow grew frustrated
by Charles Sumner’s unluckiness in courtship, at one point arguing, Seriously,
dear Charles, I grieve to hear you say your life is weary & pray as earnestly
as ever for your happiness; more earnestly, I may say, since I know what
happiness is - & therefore long to have you make room in your heart for some
one worthy of so holy a temple. But I must not entrust this advice to the
wings of a letter. When we are by the cosy fireside of Castle Craigie you
shall hear how eloquent I can be on the subject. Sumner eventually married in
1866, but the marriage proved an unhappy one and ended in a separation a few
months later. In the end, Howe and the Longfellows were the truest and closest
family Sumner had. It is impossible to say for certain where on the spectrum
of sexual orientation his romantic feelings fell. It is as much a grey area
now as it was then. What is clear is that these relationships, vague though
they were, were an essential part of Sumner’s world- and the sentiment was
very much reciprocated. Longfellow’s affection for Sumner, even after his
marriage, never once waned, and the two remained inseparable for the rest of
their lives.
Long ailing, Charles Sumner died of a heart attack at his home in Washington, D.C., on March 11, 1874, aged 63, after serving nearly 23 years in the Senate. He lay in state at the United States Capitol rotunda,[96] the second senator (Henry Clay being the first, in 1852) and fourth person so honored. At his March 16 burial in Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Massachusetts, the pallbearers included Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Oliver Wendell Holmes,
Ralph Waldo Emerson, and
John Greenleaf Whittier.[97]
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