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Introduction to Preserving All Others
by James David Moran, Director of
Outreach
When AAS president, Ellen Dunlap, asked me to create a play
commemorating the 250th anniversary of the birth of Isaiah Thomas, I
was
immediately presented with two challenges. The first was to find out
as
much as I could about the man and the times in which he lived. This
is, of
course, a challenge faced by most historians as they seek to
understand
the past. But my second challenge, unique to a playwright, was to
find a
vital conflict by which I could propel the action of my imagined
world.
My research taught me the facts of Isaiah Thomas's life,
which I
would need to relay to my audience. But if that were all I did, my
accomplishment would be merely an interesting lecture by a man
wearing a
wig and "small clothes." If I were going to create a play, I would
have to
find some battle to engage Mr. Thomas and this struggle would need
to
engage not only Thomas but my audience as well. My audience would
need to
feel suspense in the outcome of the fight; they would need to wonder
what
would happen next. I hoped that this conflict would also elucidate
some
profound characteristic of Thomas's personality and/or his
time.
I
eventually found what I needed in Thomas's wills and journals.
Thomas has
become somewhat notorious for drafting wills - he created nine in
total.
Many have considered the execution of these wills to be driven by
his
egotism, and, although Thomas was egotistical, I came to believe
that
there was more involved in this action than mere promotion of
self-esteem.
Thomas's fortunes changed greatly over his lifetime, as did those of
his
beneficiaries, all of which necessitated revisions in his bequests.
Additionally, there is something in the language and nature of the
wills
that speaks to a desire to control both his legacy and his
reputation
throughout history. For example, he provided most generously for the
welfare of AAS, yet he also details in the ninth will specifically
what
should be done with his bequest if the Society should
fail.(1)
As I
thought about the drafting of the wills and the taking of the
portraits, I
saw a deep-seated insecurity. As astonishing as Thomas's successes
were,
he was a man who literally created himself and his place in society
by
virtue of his own talents, abilities, and hard work. But he grew up
in an
age where great faith was placed in the order of society and where
social
prestige was unquestioned. Although he was part of a generation that
did
much to change that in American society, was there also some element
in
his psyche that questioned his own legitimacy? He was, after, all an
impoverished printer whose early circumstances effectively orphaned
him
and placed him at the mercy of the overseers of the poor. In some
senses
he was not so different from the broadside ballads that he first
learned
to set in type and print. No matter how exalted he became, he was of
humble origins and, no matter how popular he was or how widely his
praises
were sung, like those ballads, he could soon be forgotten and
discarded.
Here was a man who witnessed history happen in his youth and who in
later
years became preoccupied with his own place in it. In this he seemed
to
share a universal concern. Do we not all ask at some point, will I
be
remembered when I am gone? And if I am remembered, how will they
know me?
His wills are also a testament to his generosity. On page
after
page there are lists of bequests, often to people who created many
problems for him in his lifetime. His daughter and third wife are
examples
of this. But what struck me most was his bequest to his first wife,
Mary
Dill. In his second will created in 1797, twenty years after their
painful
and humiliating divorce and long after she ceased to be a member of
his
household and family, he was still providing for her. Clearly, she
was
still the mother of his children, and there is some evidence that at
least
Isaiah Junior may have interceded on her behalf at various times,
which
may have compelled Isaiah to continue her support.(2) Yet Thomas's
support
of his first wife strikes me as an incredible act of benevolence. In
all
cases Thomas is the preserver, the strong one who through his money
and
power is assisting those who are weaker.
But it was in his
journals
that I found an intriguing comment that became the central focus of
my
play. On November 10, 1820, Thomas wrote, "Began to make a new Will
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assisted by E.E. Bangs, Esq. Several Changes in my affairs rendering
it
necessary." For the next two days he worked with Bangs on this
endeavor
and then on the thirteenth, he made a curious one-line entry,
"Executed
another Will."(3) This differed from other passages, in not
mentioning
Bangs or why he is composing yet another will. As a historian I knew
enough to question the significance of this passage. And yet, Thomas
continued to associate with Bangs, naming him executor of this new
will.
In the second codicil to this will, dated February 26, 1830, he
excused
Bangs from being executor because he has just been elected Secretary
of
the Commonwealth. So they maintained a relationship for the next ten
years. As a playwright, I saw in this short passage an opportunity
for
conflict and my imagination took over. What transpired between the
young
lawyer and the old printer that made the latter want to start fresh?
Did
they quarrel? Or did something in the interaction between the young
and
the old cause the older man to question himself? In the process of
reviewing his accomplishments and evaluating his material worth,
could he
also question his metaphysical value? I decided to use this moment
as the
launch into my fictional world that eventually became the play
Preserving
All Others.
1. Thomas, Isaiah papers. Box 14.
2. See particularly correspondence from Isaiah
Junior to
his father dated May 6, 1814, Box 6, Folder 7 of the Isaiah Thomas
Papers,
in which he makes reference to what is apparently a cash payment to
Mary
Dill "I have been duly favored with your two last, with an enclosure
in
one, for my mother, which was delivered."
3.
Transactions and Collections of the American Antiquarian Society,
(Worcester, Massachusetts, American Antiquarian Society, 10, 1909.)
69-70.
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