Dorothy Quincy Hancock Scott (1747–1830) witnessed the
first shots of the American Revolution, became the partner and secretary of
John Hancock during his presidency of the Continental Congress, presided over
Massachusetts political society as governor’s consort, endured two widowhoods,
and lived long enough to greet Lafayette on his farewell tour in 1825. Her
life, bridging private sacrifice and public performance, offers a lens into the
roles leading women played in shaping and sustaining the American republic.
Introduction
Dorothy Quincy Hancock Scott (1747–1830) occupies a
paradoxical place in the annals of Revolutionary America. She was at once
highly visible, present at the Battle of Lexington, consort to John Hancock at
Philadelphia and Boston, hostess to foreign dignitaries, and later Boston’s
most celebrated grande dame, yet she has remained largely obscured in the
shadows of her famous husband. In the sweep of American collective memory,
Abigail Adams, Martha Washington, and Dolley Madison have been lionized as the
preeminent female figures of the Revolutionary generation. Dorothy Quincy
Hancock, despite her singular proximity to events and personalities at the
nation’s founding, has not received comparable recognition. Her life, as
reconstructed from private correspondence, family manuscripts, official
records, and scarce surviving autograph material, reveals a woman of beauty,
wit, and formidable social presence who deserves to be recognized among
America’s founding mothers.
John Hancock himself once acknowledged her centrality,
albeit indirectly. As James Madison observed in October 1788, Hancock “declared
to his lady, it is said, that she had once been the first in America, & he
wd. never make her the second.”[1] Madison’s aside, written as the contest for
the nation’s first vice presidency loomed, captures in miniature Dorothy’s
symbolic role. To elevate Adams over Hancock was not simply a political
calculation, but, in Hancock’s own mind, an affront to his wife, who had already
reigned as America’s “first lady” during his presidency of the Continental
Congress. This remark illuminates how Dorothy’s stature was not merely
ornamental; it shaped Hancock’s political identity and sense of precedence.
The contours of her life reflect broader themes in
Revolutionary historiography: the ways elite women navigated politics through
the household; the gendered labor of hosting, entertaining, and correspondence;
and the intermingling of family honor with republican virtue. Dorothy Quincy
was born into one of Massachusetts’ most prominent families, the Quincys of
Braintree, long associated with patriot leadership. She came of age amid the
social whirl of Boston, where her wit and beauty made her an admired figure.
Later recollections described her as “cultured and agreeable,” a young woman
“admired and sought after, Dorothy Quincy steered through the dangerous shoals
of high-seasoned compliments to remain a bright, unspoiled beauty, that no
flattery could harm.”[2]
But unlike her sisters and cousins, Dorothy would become
bound to the epicenter of national politics through her marriage to John
Hancock, Boston’s wealthiest merchant and the most flamboyant of the
Revolution’s leaders. Their union in August 1775, solemnized at Fairfield,
Connecticut, was not merely a personal alliance but a symbolic gesture of
patriot triumph amidst uncertainty. Dorothy followed Hancock to Philadelphia,
where she took on the unprecedented role of assisting the presiding officer of
the Continental Congress. In her own recollections, she remembered trimming the
rough edges of Continental bills of credit and bundling them for dispatch, acts
at once domestic and profoundly political.[3]
Her celebrity was both public and private. John Adams, no
admirer of Hancock’s ostentation, nonetheless described Dorothy with surprising
warmth in a November 1775 letter to Abigail. “Among an hundred Men, almost at
this House she lives and behaves with Modesty, Decency, Dignity and
Discretion,” Adams observed. “Her Behaviour is easy and genteel. She avoids
talking upon Politicks. In large and mixed Companies she is totally silent, as
a Lady ought to be.”[4] Adams’s begrudging praise underscores how Dorothy was
judged according to the expectations of female decorum, even as she performed
labor essential to the functioning of Congress.
The scarcity of her surviving autograph magnifies the
challenge of reconstructing her agency. Unlike Abigail Adams or Mercy Otis
Warren, Dorothy left no cache of letters articulating her philosophy. Instead,
glimpses emerge from scattered manuscripts and financial records. Among the
most significant is a 1790 deed signed jointly by John and Dorothy Hancock,
preserved today in the Klos Yavneh Collection, one of the vanishingly few
documents bearing her signature in her own right.[5] Another is a 1794 receipt
acknowledging payment on John Hancock’s estate, signed “Dorothy Hancock, Adm.,”
now at the Massachusetts Historical Society.[6] Still rarer are her signatures
after her remarriage to Captain James Scott, including a remarkable 1817
auction receipt from the dispersal of the Hancock House furnishings, signed
“Dorothy Scott,” also in the Klos Yavneh Collection.[7] These documents, sparse
though they are, anchor Dorothy’s life in material evidence, attesting to her
authority over household and estate matters.
Family tradition preserved additional anecdotes. Anna Quincy
Blanchard (1846–1923), a Quincy descendant, compiled a lengthy twenty-six-page
manuscript sketch of Dorothy in the early twentieth century, now rediscovered
and preserved by the Raab Collection. Blanchard’s account, drawing on oral
history transmitted through the Quincy line, recounts Dorothy’s dramatic
presence at Lexington, her spirited defiance of Hancock’s paternalism
(“Recollect, Mr. Hancock, that I am not under your control yet”), her Parisian
fan at her wedding, and her audacious commandeering of Boston Common’s cows to
provide milk for Admiral d’Estaing’s officers.[8] Though filtered through
family memory, these tales vividly illustrate how Dorothy embodied a blend of
refinement and resourcefulness.
This biography aims to restore Dorothy Quincy Hancock Scott
to the narrative of the American founding by piecing together these disparate
fragments, letters, receipts, family manuscripts, anecdotes recorded in
nineteenth-century local histories, and critical commentary from her
contemporaries. Section by section, it follows her from her Boston girlhood to
her eyewitness role at Lexington; from her service as Hancock’s consort in
Philadelphia to her long widowhood and second marriage; and finally to her
later years as Boston’s most distinguished matron, honored by Lafayette in
1825. The result is a portrait of a woman at once emblematic and unique, emblematic because, like many elite women of
her era, Dorothy’s influence operated through domestic spaces, hospitality, and
kinship networks; unique because she alone was the partner of the Revolution’s
most flamboyant statesman, present at pivotal moments, and remembered by family
and statesmen alike as a figure of poise, wit, and enduring dignity.
Early Life (1747–1775)
Dorothy Quincy was born on May 21, 1747 (N.S.) in
Boston, the youngest of ten children of Justice Edmund Quincy IV (1703–1788)
and Elizabeth Wendell Quincy (1713–1769).[9] Through both parents, she was heir
to two distinguished colonial lineages. The Quincys were among Massachusetts’s
most prominent families, deeply enmeshed in politics, commerce, and law; her
father served as a justice of the peace and was respected for his role in
provincial governance.[10] On her mother’s side, the Wendells were prosperous
New York merchants with Dutch and Huguenot ancestry, linking Dorothy to the
cosmopolitan world of Atlantic trade.[11]
Dorothy’s childhood was spent first in Boston on Summer
Street, opposite the site of Trinity Church. Following a relocation around
1752, she grew up in the family’s Braintree estate, later known as the Dorothy
Quincy Homestead, now preserved as a National Historic Landmark.[12] It was
here that she absorbed both the refinement of a cultivated household and the
patriotic ethos that would shape her later life. The Homestead was alive with
intellectual and political conversation; John Adams, a rising young lawyer from
nearby Braintree, recorded his frequent visits to “Justice Quincy’s” and his
lively debates with Dorothy’s elder sisters and cousins.[13]
Dorothy’s siblings epitomized the Quincy family’s
prominence. Esther Quincy married Jonathan Sewall, later a loyalist judge;
Elizabeth Quincy married Jonathan’s brother, Samuel Sewall; Sarah Quincy
married General William Greenleaf; and other sisters, renowned for their
beauty, were often remarked upon in Adams’s diary.[14] Dorothy, as the youngest
and indulged by both parents and siblings, developed what later accounts
described as a spirited, even coquettish personality.[15] Robert Cortes
Holliday, writing in The Pioneer Mothers of America (1912),
characterized her as “admired and sought after, Dorothy Quincy steered through
the dangerous shoals of high-seasoned compliments to remain a bright, unspoiled
beauty, that no flattery could harm.”[16]
It was during these years that Dorothy likely first
encountered John Hancock, ten years her senior, who had been adopted by his
wealthy uncle Thomas Hancock and was raised in the Hancock Mansion on Beacon
Hill. By the early 1760s Hancock was one of Boston’s wealthiest merchants, and
as his political star rose, he became a frequent visitor at the Quincy
Homestead.[17] Family tradition, later preserved by Anna Quincy Blanchard,
suggested that Dorothy and John had pledged their troth “long before the Revolution,”
though the unsettled political climate delayed formal marriage.[18]
Dorothy’s mother died in 1769, when Dorothy was twenty-two,
a loss that profoundly reshaped her domestic circumstances. She came
increasingly under the influence of Lydia Hancock, John Hancock’s
widowed aunt and patroness. Lydia, a formidable matriarch who had guided John’s
early career, now took a keen interest in Dorothy’s welfare. By 1774, with
tensions escalating between Britain and Massachusetts, Lydia became Dorothy’s
protector and chaperone, encouraging the match with her nephew.[19] Dorothy
thus moved between the Quincy estate, the Hancock household, and Boston’s
social world, acquiring both polish and connections that prepared her for her
future role as Hancock’s wife.
The eruption of political crisis in the 1770s thrust Dorothy
into history’s path. Her father, Judge Quincy, was aligned with patriot
sentiment, and their home was a gathering place for leaders such as Samuel
Adams, Joseph Warren, and James Otis.[20] John Hancock himself had become the
most flamboyant symbol of colonial resistance, derided by loyalists as “King
Hancock” for his wealth and generosity. Soldiers taunted him outside his Boston
home, firing muskets in mock salute and threatening seizure of his property.[21]
For Dorothy, who by then was closely connected to Hancock’s household, this
atmosphere of tension underscored the stakes of their union.
It was in this volatile moment that Dorothy accompanied
Lydia Hancock to Lexington, to the home of the Reverend Jonas Clarke, a cousin.
There she would witness the first shots of the American Revolution in April
1775. But before Lexington, Dorothy’s early life had already placed her at the
intersection of family prominence, political ferment, and personal ambition.
Cultivated, admired, and fiercely independent, she entered the Revolutionary
crisis not as a passive bystander but as a woman whose wit and resolve had been
sharpened in one of New England’s most politically charged households. Her
later insistence at Lexington, “Recollect, Mr. Hancock, that I am not under
your control yet”, was foreshadowed in this upbringing: a young woman secure in
her family’s prominence, confident in her own voice, and unwilling to be
silenced even by the most celebrated man in Massachusetts.[22]
Lexington (1775)
In April 1775 Dorothy Quincy found herself, by circumstance
and by choice, at the epicenter of the Revolution’s opening clash. Her presence
at the Battle of Lexington was no accident: it reflected her intimacy with John
Hancock’s household, her guardianship under Lydia Hancock, and the intertwining
of Quincy and Hancock family networks in Massachusetts politics. For Dorothy,
the battle was not merely a patriotic tableau retold after the fact; it was a
lived experience, one that impressed itself upon her memory and upon the family
traditions later recorded by her descendants.
By early 1775, John Hancock and Samuel Adams were the two
most visible leaders of the Patriot movement in Massachusetts. The royal
governor, General Thomas Gage, and his officers monitored their movements
closely, convinced that seizing the pair could cripple the rebellion.[23] To
protect him, Hancock often stayed outside Boston. At the suggestion of his Aunt
Lydia, he and Adams had taken refuge at the home of Reverend Jonas Clarke in
Lexington, where Lydia Hancock and Dorothy joined them.[24]
On the night of April 18, 1775, Paul Revere made his
immortal ride to warn the countryside of British regulars advancing on Concord.
Revere’s first stop was the Clarke house. Confronted by sentries who ordered
him to keep silent, Revere retorted, “Noise? You’ll have noise enough before
long. The regulars are coming out!”[25] According to tradition, John Hancock
himself leaned out a window to demand who was at the door, and, upon hearing
Revere’s alarm, ordered the town bell rung.[26]
Dorothy Quincy, then not yet Hancock’s wife, was in the
house with Aunt Lydia. The alarm carried an immediate threat, for Hancock and
Adams were believed to be primary targets of the expedition. As the militiamen
mustered on Lexington Common, Hancock prepared to join them in arms. Dorothy
later recalled him polishing his musket and sword, intent on fighting alongside
the minutemen.[27] But Samuel Adams, ever pragmatic, restrained him: “This is
not our business, we belong to the cabinet.”[28] Hancock grudgingly acquiesced,
retreating with Adams to a nearby wood from which they could observe the
unfolding skirmish.
Dorothy and Lydia, meanwhile, remained inside the Clarke
house. From her upstairs chamber window, Dorothy leaned out to watch the
confrontation.[29] Family tradition, preserved in the Blanchard manuscript,
recalled the moment with dramatic vividness: “Soon after the fighting began,
Mrs. [Lydia] Hancock who was standing at the door, narrowly escaped being
killed, as a bullet whizzed past her, and lodged in the barn. Dorothy Quincy
meanwhile, was leaning out from a chamber window, watching the fight.”[30] As the
skirmish ended and the regulars marched on to Concord, the women tended to the
wounded. Dorothy remembered two men carried into the house, one grazed by a
ball who “insisted that he was dead,” and another shot through the arm “who
behaved better.”[31]
The events that followed underscored Dorothy’s independence
of spirit. Hancock, concerned for her safety, forbade her from returning to her
father’s home in Boston. She resisted fiercely: “Recollect, Mr. Hancock, that I
am not under your control yet. I shall go to my father tomorrow.”[32] In the
end, she relented at the urging of Aunt Lydia and remained under her
protection, but her spirited reply, recounted by Blanchard and repeated by
later historians, remains one of the most vivid examples of Dorothy’s
assertiveness. It also illustrates the gendered dynamics of the Patriot elite:
even in moments of crisis, women like Dorothy asserted autonomy against the
paternalistic instincts of men like Hancock.
In the days after Lexington, Hancock and Adams fled
westward, first to Woburn and later to Billerica, sheltered by Patriot allies
such as Reverend Mr. Jones and Amos Wyman.[33] Dorothy and Lydia followed soon
after, bringing household goods, including, by Hancock’s request, a newly
purchased silver salver.[34] Along the way, they were exposed to repeated
alarms. One account, preserved by Blanchard, recounts that as they prepared to
dine in Woburn, word came that the British were advancing. Dorothy and Lydia
were forced to flee once more, escorted by Hancock’s enslaved servant Cuff
through the woods to Billerica.[35]
For Dorothy, the experience at Lexington was formative. It
placed her, quite literally, in the window of history: a woman looking out upon
the first clash of arms in the Revolution, caught between her role as witness
and her role as fiancée to one of the men most responsible for the rebellion.
Later in life, when family members asked her to recount the event, she
emphasized both the drama of the bullets and the drama of her own defiance.[36]
Marriage & Philadelphia Years (1775–1783)
Only months after witnessing the gunfire at Lexington,
Dorothy Quincy entered into marriage with the man most visibly associated with
the Patriot cause. On August 28, 1775, in Fairfield, Connecticut, she
wed John Hancock, newly elected president of the Continental Congress.[37] The
choice of Fairfield was deliberate. Boston remained under British occupation,
and Braintree, though patriot-leaning, was considered too exposed to loyalist
neighbors. Their hosts, Reverend Thaddeus Burr and his wife Eunice, were family
friends, and it was in their parlor that Dorothy and John solemnized their
union.[38]
The wedding was remembered in Quincy family lore as an
affair tinged with both romance and urgency. It had originally been planned for
the Quincy Homestead at Braintree. To that end, a north parlor had been
refurbished with wallpaper imported from Paris, decorated with blue figures of
Venus and Cupid and garlands of red flowers.[39] But the ongoing war made a
Boston-area ceremony impossible. Instead, Hancock traveled secretly to
Connecticut, accompanied by an armed guard, where Dorothy, resplendent with a Parisian
ivory fan painted with mythological scenes, became his wife.[40] Contemporaries
judged the marriage well matched. John Adams, writing to Abigail, observed that
Hancock’s choice was “very natural… Beauty, politeness, and every domestic
virtue justified his predilection.”[41]
Soon after their wedding, Dorothy accompanied Hancock to
Philadelphia, where he had assumed the presidency of the Second Continental
Congress in May. Her arrival in September 1775 was, in many ways, the debut of
America’s first “First Lady.” For the next two years, until Hancock’s
resignation in October 1777, Dorothy presided over his domestic and
semi-official household, hosting dinners for delegates and foreign envoys, and
providing secretarial assistance to her husband. As Blanchard later recorded, “Her
husband having no clerk at this time, she assisted him in the details of his
work. In after years, she was very proud of telling of the many packages of
officers’ commissions that she had sent away, and of how she had trimmed with
her own small scissors, the rough edges from the bills of credit issued by
Congress.”[42]
Her presence drew comment from John Adams, who was no friend
to Hancock but could not ignore Dorothy’s comportment. “Among an hundred Men…
she lives and behaves with Modesty, Decency, Dignity and Discretion,” he wrote;
“Her Behaviour is easy and genteel… In large and mixed Companies she is totally
silent, as a Lady ought to be.”[43] The household became a political stage:
captured British colors from Chambly were displayed in Dorothy’s chamber “with
great Splendor and Elegance.”[44] Unlike Martha Washington, whose status was
tied to her husband’s military command, Dorothy’s status stemmed from Hancock’s
position as the presiding civilian officer of Congress.
During his tenure as President of the Continental Congress, John Hancock resided with his wife Dorothy in a large stone house on the south side of Market Street, just east of Fifth Street in Philadelphia. The dwelling, belonging to Col. Thomas Willing White, was remembered in later Philadelphia tradition as the “Hancock House.” Conveniently located only a block from the Pennsylvania State House, the residence provided ample space for both household functions and the ceremonial duties that came with Hancock’s office. Its proximity to Congress made it a de facto executive mansion during the years 1775–1777, when Dorothy presided there as what subsequent generations would call the nation’s “First Lady.” -- Townsend Ward, “The Germantown Road and Its Associations,” The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography 1, no. 3 (1877): 247–48; Charles Henry Hart, Memorial History of the City of Philadelphia, from Its First Settlement to the Year 1895, vol. 2 (New York: New-York History Company, 1895), 229–30.
When the British threatened Philadelphia in December 1776, Congress adjourned and fled to Baltimore. Dorothy Hancock and her infant daughter Lucy accompanied John, lodging with the family of Baltimore merchant Samuel Purviance. The winter was one of deep anxiety. Yet the mood shifted dramatically when General George Washington secured decisive victories at Trenton on December 26, 1776, and at Princeton on January 3, 1777. These triumphs revived American morale and stabilized the military situation around Philadelphia. Encouraged by Washington’s successes, Congress resolved to return, and on March 4, 1777, the delegates reconvened at the Pennsylvania State House, restoring the national government to Philadelphia.
Life in Philadelphia was not without burdens. Hancock was often ill, suffering from gout and other ailments; Dorothy’s duties included managing his comfort while maintaining the household’s ceremonial functions.[45] She gave birth to their first child, Lydia Henchman Hancock, in 1776, but the infant survived only a year.[46] A second child, John George Washington Hancock, was born in 1778 but drowned in a skating accident in 1787 at the age of nine.[47a] Yet Dorothy’s resilience never flagged. When Congress fled Philadelphia in September 1777, she did not follow Hancock west to York; his letter from York of October 18, 1777, laments receiving no word “since [her] arrival at Worcester,” confirming she had returned to Massachusetts while he presided there.[47b] When Hancock resigned later that month, they soon reunited in Massachusetts, Dorothy having already performed, in every sense, the duties later associated with a “First Lady.”
First Lady of Massachusetts & Consort to a National
Figure (1783–1793)
After Hancock’s return, peace and the new state constitution
elevated him to Massachusetts’s first governorship in 1780, and Dorothy assumed
the role of gubernatorial hostess. The Hancock Manor on Beacon Hill, built by
Thomas Hancock in 1737, became the ceremonial center of Boston society.[48]
Under Dorothy’s guidance, it functioned as political theater where
international diplomacy mingled with local politics.
One famed episode involved Admiral Charles Hector, Comte
d’Estaing, who arrived with nearly three hundred officers and midshipmen after
Hancock had invited only thirty to breakfast.[49] Dorothy improvised
brilliantly: as Blanchard recounts, she “ordered the servants to take pitchers,
mugs, and bowls and proceed to milk all the cows” on Boston Common to supply
the guests.[50] The improvised solution amused the public and satisfied the
admiral, entering Boston legend and showcasing Dorothy’s wit and decisiveness.[51]
Dorothy’s drawing-room became the most frequented in Boston.
She dressed elegantly but with restraint, once remarking that she would never
forgive a young woman who neglected her appearance, yet avoiding ostentation
herself.[52] Her grace softened Hancock’s notoriety for display, embodying a
republican womanhood that balanced dignity with simplicity.[53] Her presence
also carried political weight. During the 1788 vice-presidential maneuvering,
Madison recorded that Hancock declined the office lest Dorothy, having “once
been the first,” be made “the second.”[54]
By the early 1790s Hancock’s health declined. Dorothy
increasingly shouldered ceremonial responsibilities and began appearing on
legal documents, including a 1790 deed signed jointly with John,
evidencing her emergent role in estate management.[55] On October 8, 1793,
John Hancock died. His funeral was a state event; Dorothy, clad in deep
mourning, received condolences from the Commonwealth’s elite and entered a new
phase of life: widowed, childless, but still at the center of Boston’s
memory.[56]
Widowhood & Remarriage (1793–1809)
As administratrix of Hancock’s estate, Dorothy assumed legal and financial responsibilities unusual for women of her time. On June 20, 1794, she signed a receipt acknowledging payment on a bond to John Hancock’s estate, one of the few surviving autographs reading “Dorothy Hancock, Adm.”[57] The estate, though symbolically grand, was financially strained after decades of public generosity and ceremonial hospitality.[58]
 |
| A June 20, 1794, Receipt from Dorothy Quincy Hancock, as administrator of the estate of John Hancock, to Samuel Lyman for payment on Jacob Baldwin's bond. The document is signed Dorothy Hancock, Admin. |
On July 27, 1796, Dorothy married Captain James
Scott at Boston’s Brattle Square Church.[59] A longtime Hancock associate,
Scott had commanded Hancock’s vessels in the British trade before the war. The
marriage surprised some relatives, but provided companionship and stability.
They relocated to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where Dorothy lived quietly as
“Madam Scott.”[60] Family memory suggests she missed the prominence of Hancock
Manor, yet she adapted with dignified sociability.[61]
Scott died in 1809, leaving Dorothy a widow again.
She returned to Boston, living first at 30 Beacon Street for about a decade and
later at 4 Federal Street. On July 18, 1817, she signed a receipt for
$9.50 in furnishings sold from the Hancock House, written to a Mr. Greenough
and signed “Dorothy Scott.”[62] The document, now in the Klos Yavneh Collection,
is a rare and poignant relic of her later life, tying her directly to the
dispersal of the Hancock household.
Later Years (1810–1830)
Back in Boston, Dorothy remained a celebrated presence.
Though living more modestly, she was revered as Hancock’s widow and a living
link to the Revolution. Holliday described her as gracious, high-bred, and
dignified, still commanding respect.[63] She welcomed visitors eager to hear
her recollections of Lexington, Philadelphia, and Hancock’s governorship;
Blanchard preserves family stories of her sharp words to Hancock and her
resourcefulness in hosting Admiral d’Estaing.[64]
In 1825, during Lafayette’s Farewell Tour, she
received the marquis in Boston. Dressed in steel-colored satin with a Lafayette
badge, she sat beneath Hancock’s portrait. Lafayette bowed first to the
painting and then kissed her hand, unknowingly kissing his own likeness,
printed on the glove she wore.[65] The moment, preserved in Quincy family
memory, symbolized the intertwining of Revolutionary remembrance across
generations.
Dorothy died on February 3, 1830, at the age of
eighty-two.[66] Her passing marked the end of an era; she had outlived John
Hancock by nearly four decades and Captain Scott by two. She was interred in
Boston, where the Hancock legacy continued to resonate. Her autograph remains
among the rarest of the Revolutionary generation: the 1790 Hancock deed
(Klos Yavneh Collection), the 1794 administratrix receipt (Massachusetts
Historical Society), and the 1817 Hancock House auction receipt signed
“Dorothy Scott” (Klos Yavneh Collection) are among the very few known surviving
examples, tracing her arc from consort to widow to survivor.[67]
Legacy
Dorothy Quincy Hancock Scott’s legacy is twofold: she was
both witness and participant. From Lexington to Philadelphia to Beacon Hill,
she embodied the Revolution’s domestic and ceremonial face. Her role from 1775
to 1777, while Hancock presided over Congress, was strikingly similar to
the hospitality duties later associated with Martha Washington, Abigail
Adams, and Dolley Madison, yet Dorothy went further, serving as her
husband’s personal secretary in the crucible of war, trimming bills of
credit, preparing officers’ commissions, and assisting with correspondence when
the president of Congress had no clerk.[68]
Set against a transatlantic foil, the contrast is stark. Queen
Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz (1744–1818), wife of George III,
presided over palaces, gardens, and concerts in the splendor of empire,
sponsoring music and culture from within the rituals of monarchy.[69] Dorothy,
by contrast, endured privation and grief. She entertained admirals not with
gilded banquets but with milk commandeered from cows on Boston Common; she
tended wounded at Lexington; she lost her only surviving child to accident; she
outlived her husband and, decades later, auctioned the furnishings of the
Hancock House.[70] Where Queen Charlotte’s memory is entwined with pomp and
continuity, Dorothy’s is tied to republican sacrifice and resilience.
One reason Dorothy’s reputation has lagged behind that of
Abigail Adams or Dolley Madison is the extreme rarity of her autograph.
Unlike those First Ladies, Dorothy left only a handful of signed documents: the
1790 deed (Klos Yavneh Collection), the 1794 administratrix receipt
(MHS), and the 1817 Hancock House auction receipt (Klos Yavneh
Collection).[71] Each marks a stage of her life, consort, widow, and survivor, and
underscores how her voice reaches us chiefly through family memory,
especially the Anna Quincy Blanchard manuscript in the Raab Collection,
which depicts Dorothy as witty, resourceful, and dignified.[72]
Dorothy Quincy Hancock Scott did not leave political
treatises. She did something subtler but no less foundational: she embodied
the Revolution in lived practice. She stood in the window at Lexington; she
trimmed the edges of the nation’s first currency; she entertained French
admirals with milk from Boston Common; and she faced Lafayette in her old age
with a dignity that commanded respect. In these acts, Dorothy bridged private
and public life, showing how women of the Revolutionary elite shaped politics
through household, performance, and memory. She was, in every sense, one of
America’s founding mothers—an enduring symbol of the Revolution’s domestic
heart and ceremonial face.
Notes:
1.
Madison, James. The Papers of James Madison,
28 Oct. 1788.
2.
Holliday, Robert Cortes. The Pioneer Mothers
of America. Vol. 3, G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1912, pp. 18–19.
3.
Blanchard, Anna Quincy. Manuscript Biography
of Dorothy Quincy Hancock (ca. 1905–1917), p. 7. Raab Collection.
4.
Adams, John. Letter to Abigail Adams, 4 Nov.
1775, in The Adams Papers. Massachusetts Historical Society.
5.
Deed signed by John Hancock and Dorothy Hancock,
29 Nov. 1790. Klos Yavneh Collection.
6.
Dorothy Hancock receipt as administratrix of
John Hancock’s estate, 20 June 1794. Massachusetts Historical Society.
7.
Dorothy Scott auction receipt for Hancock House
furnishings, 18 July 1817. Klos Yavneh Collection.
8.
Blanchard, Manuscript Biography, pp.
10–22. Raab Collection.
9.
Holliday, Pioneer Mothers, pp. 18–19.
10. Ibid.,
p. 20.
11. Ibid.
12. “Dorothy
Quincy Homestead.” National Park Service, National Historic Landmarks Program.
13. Adams,
John. Diary and Autobiography of John Adams. Ed. L.H. Butterfield,
Harvard UP, 1961, vol. 1 (1759 entries).
14. Ibid.
15. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, p. 3. Raab Collection.
16. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 22.
17. Kirschke,
James J. John Hancock: Merchant King and American Patriot. Wiley, 2005,
pp. 37–45.
18. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, p. 6. Raab Collection.
19. Ibid.,
pp. 8–9.
20. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 24.
21. Ibid.,
p. 25.
22. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, p. 11. Raab Collection.
23. Fischer,
David Hackett. Paul Revere’s Ride. Oxford UP, 1994, pp. 118–21.
24. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 25.
25. Fischer,
Paul Revere’s Ride, p. 127.
26. Ibid.,
p. 129.
27. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, p. 9. Raab Collection.
28. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 26.
29. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, p. 11. Raab Collection.
30. Ibid.
31. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 27.
32. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, p. 12. Raab Collection.
33. Fischer,
Paul Revere’s Ride, pp. 133–34.
34. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 28.
35. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, pp. 13–14. Raab Collection.
36. Ibid.,
p. 15.
37. “Marriage
Record of John Hancock and Dorothy Quincy,” Fairfield, Connecticut, 28 Aug.
1775, Connecticut Vital Records, Fairfield County Archives.
38. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 30.
39. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, p. 16. Raab Collection.
40. Ibid.,
p. 17.
41. Adams,
John. Letter to Abigail Adams, Sept. 1775, in The Adams Papers.
42. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, p. 18. Raab Collection.
43. Adams,
John. Letter to Abigail Adams, 4 Nov. 1775, in The Adams Papers.
44. Ibid.
(“Two Pair of Colours … hung up in Mrs. Hancocks Chamber”).
45. Kirschke,
John Hancock, p. 132.
46. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 31.
47. a
Ibid., p. 32. 47b. John Hancock to
Dorothy Hancock, York, Pa., 18 Oct. 1777, printed in Ellen C. D. Q. Woodbury, Dorothy
Quincy, Wife of John Hancock (Boston: 1905).
48. Kirschke,
John Hancock, pp. 89–93.
49. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 34.
50. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, pp. 20–21. Raab Collection.
51. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 35.
52. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, p. 23. Raab Collection.
53. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 36.
54. Madison,
Papers, 28 Oct. 1788 (see note 1).
55. Deed
signed by John Hancock and Dorothy Hancock, 29 Nov. 1790. Klos Yavneh
Collection.
56. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 39.
57. Massachusetts
Historical Society, receipt of 20 June 1794 (see note 6).
58. Kirschke,
John Hancock, pp. 188–92.
59. “Vital
Records of Boston,” Brattle Square Church, Marriage Register, 27 July 1796.
60. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 40.
61. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, p. 26. Raab Collection.
62. Dorothy
Scott auction receipt, 18 July 1817. Klos Yavneh Collection.
63. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 41–42.
64. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, pp. 22–26. Raab Collection.
65. Ibid.,
p. 24; Holliday, Pioneer Mothers, p. 43.
66. Holliday,
Pioneer Mothers, p. 45.
67. Klos
Yavneh Collection: deed (1790) and auction receipt (1817); Massachusetts
Historical Society: administratrix receipt (1794).
68. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, pp. 16–18. Raab Collection.
69. Fraser,
Flora. Princesses: The Six Daughters of George III. Knopf, 2004, pp.
45–61.
70. Dorothy
Scott auction receipt, 18 July 1817 (see note 62).
71. See
note 67.
72. Blanchard,
Manuscript Biography, pp. 11–25. Raab Collection.
Works Cited
Adams, John. Diary and Autobiography of John Adams.
Edited by L.H. Butterfield, Harvard UP, 1961. -- Letters to Abigail Adams
(Sept. and 4 Nov. 1775), in The Adams Papers. Massachusetts Historical
Society.
Blanchard, Anna Quincy. Manuscript Biography of Dorothy
Quincy Hancock. ca. 1905–1917. Raab Collection.
“Dorothy Quincy Homestead.” National Park Service, National
Historic Landmarks Program.
Fischer, David Hackett. Paul Revere’s Ride. Oxford
UP, 1994.
Fraser, Flora. Princesses: The Six Daughters of George
III. Knopf, 2004.
Holliday, Robert Cortes. The Pioneer Mothers of America:
A Record of the More Notable Women of the Early Days of the Country, and
Particularly of the Colonial and Revolutionary Periods. Vol. 3, G.P.
Putnam’s Sons, 1912.
Kirschke, James J. John Hancock: Merchant King and
American Patriot. Wiley, 2005.
Madison, James. The Papers of James Madison. 28 Oct.
1788.
Massachusetts Historical Society. Dorothy Hancock receipt as
administratrix, 20 June 1794.
Klos Yavneh Collection. John Hancock and Dorothy
Hancock deed, 29 Nov. 1790; Dorothy Scott auction receipt, 18 July 1817.
“Vital Records of Boston,” Brattle Square Church, Marriage
Register, 27 July 1796.
Connecticut Vital Records, Fairfield County Archives.
“Marriage Record of John Hancock and Dorothy Quincy,” 28 Aug. 1775.
|
| A June 20, 1794, Receipt from Dorothy Quincy Hancock, as administrator of the estate of John Hancock, to Samuel Lyman for payment on Jacob Baldwin's bond. The document is signed Dorothy Hancock, Admin. |
Source: The Pioneer Mothers of America: A Record of the More Notable Women of the Early Days of the Country, and Particularly of the Colonial and Revolutionary Periods , New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1912, Volume III, Pages 18-32.
By the accident of being the presiding officer of the Continental Congress of 1775, John Hancock was the first man to affix his signature to the Declaration of Independence and thereby conferred upon his beautiful Boston bride, Dorothy Quincy, the honor of being the wife of the first "signer."
Dorothy Quincy was the youngest of the ten children of Judge Edmund Quincy. She was born May 10, 1747, and grew up in the sheltered environment of a wealthy and well-regulated New England home.
"Carefully reared watchfulness through under a gentle mother's the early part of her life, when old enough she was launched in the social world under more favorable auspices than usually fall to the lot of a young girl. Cultured and agreeable, she drew friends and attracted admirers; she won all hearts and a place in society from which nothing could dethrone her. Admired and sought after, Dorothy Quincy steered through the dangerous shoals of high-seasoned compliments to remain a bright, unspoiled beauty, that no flattery could harm."
If this seems a rather perfervid tribute, it must be attributed to the possibly biased view-point of an admiring descendant. Dorothy's mother was Elizabeth Wendell, daughter of Abraham and Katharine DeKay Wendell of New York, an educated and accomplished woman of high character, with a taste for social life and a liking for the society of young people. So it came that the Quincy household, with its bevy of handsome girls, had many visitors. John Adams, a rising young lawyer of Boston at the time, was a frequent caller, and in his diary we find that several times he "had gone over to the house of Justice Quincy and had a talk with him." Adams occasionally mentions Esther Quincy, an elder sister of Dorothy, and also a cousin, Hannah Quincy. Both are described as being "handsome and brilliant girls," given to lively repartee, and the young lawyer with his badinage met in them his match. In 1759 is found this entry: "I talked with Esther about the folly of love, about despising it, about being above it--pretended to be insensible of tender passions, which made them laugh."
Esther at the time had a devoted admirer, Jonathan Sewall, whom she married in 1763. Another sister, Elizabeth, had long been married to Jonathan Sewall's brother, Samuel. Sarah Quincy, fifteen years older than Dorothy, was married to General William Greenleaf. Another sister, Katharine, died unmarried.
John Hancock, the handsome young merchant who had just succeeded to the great wealth and business of his uncle, Thomas Hancock, was, of course, a welcome visitor at the Quincy home. The son of a highly respected minister and the grandson of another, young Hancock had graduated from Harvard College at the age of seventeen. He had immediately gone into the counting room of his uncle and had greatly pleased the old gentleman by his intelligence and attention to his duties. In 1750, the young man was sent to England to take charge of the London end of the business. Here he had a chance to supplement his education with travel and acquaintance with men of affairs. He had listened to the debates of Parliament, witnessed the funeral of George II and the coronation of George III, and in many ways come to have a good general knowledge of the English people and their way of thinking. Then he was recalled to America by the death of his uncle, who had left him the bulk of his great estate.
Thus John Hancock at the age of twenty-seven found himself one of the wealthiest men of Massachusetts. From that time he began closing out his commercial interests and devoting himself more and more to public affairs. His first public office was that of selectman of the town of Boston, in which position he served for years. In 1766, he was elected from Boston to the General Assembly, having as colleagues Samuel Adams, james Otis, and Thomas Cushing, able men and patriotic, whose influence was important in Hancock's after life. Hancock was public-spirited, generous, and always ready to go to the assistance of a friend. At one time during the Revolution, it was said that not less than one hundred families were subsisting on his benevolence. His popularity grew with every one except the Governor and his official clique, who held Hancock and Adams responsible for the constantly growing spirit of opposition to the acts of King and Parliament. Consequently when Hancock was elected Speaker of the Assembly of 1757, the Governor vetoed the selection. Shortly before this, Governor Barnard had offered Hancock a commission as Lieutenant in the militia.
Hancock, knowing that it was a covert attempt at bribing him, tore up the commission in the presence of many prominent citizens. At the opening of the next session of the Assembly, Hancock was again elected Speaker, and again it was vetoed. Then he was elected a member of the Executive Council, and that was vetoed by the Governor. All this but endeared Hancock to the people. During the few years immediately preceding the Battle of Lexington, the British Government was constantly and apprehensively watching Hancock and Adams. They were regarded as dangerous men. They could not be frightened, bribed, nor cajoled. In 1774, the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts unanimously elected John Hancock as its President. "This is the foulest, subtlest, and most venomous serpent ever issued from the egg of sedition. It is the source of rebellion," writes one loyalist pamphleteer of the period.
All this time, John Hancock was courting the handsome daughter of Judge Quincy. Her father was an earnest patriot and their home, from which the mother had departed in 1769, was the gathering place for such men as Samuel and John Adams, Dr. Joseph Warren, James Otis, and others of their rebellious group. John Hancock probably seemed very much of a hero in the eyes of the young woman. Anyway, we are told that she was as enthusiastic a patriot as her lover and entered keenly into their plans and consultations.
John Hancock at this time was living with his aunt, Lydia Hancock, and for safety had removed from Boston to the old Hancock homestead in Lexington, a relative, the Rev. James Clark living in the same house. Early in 1775, Judge Quincy was called away from home on business and Mistress Dorothy, being left alone in their Boston home, accepted an invitation from Lydia Hancock to pay her a visit, and that is how Dorothy Quincy came to be present at the Battle of Lexington.
The Boston authorities, acting on advice from Great Britain, decided to take Hancock and Adams into custody, and it was arranged to arrest them at the home of Hancock, in Lexington, where they had been staying for several nights. They had been chosen as delegates to the Continental Congress and expected arrest at any time if their whereabouts were known. Through their spies the authorities had learned where Hancock and Adams were staying. They had also learned that a considerable quantity of ammunition and other stores had been gathered at Lexington. Elbridge Gerry had already warned Hancock and Adams to remain constantly on their guard. On April 18th, General Gage ordered the march to Concord. It was then that Dr. Joseph Warren hastily dispatched Paul Revere on the ride that has made his name immortal. About midnight, Revere galloped up to the Rev. Mr. Clark's house, which he found guarded by eight men under a sergeant who halted him with the order not "to make so much noise."
"Noise!" exclaimed the excited Revere. "You'll have noise enough before long. The regulars are coming out!"
A window on the second floor was raised and a voice came down: "What is it, courier Revere? We are not afraid of you." It was John Hancock himself and Revere delivered his message.
"Ring the bell!" ordered Hancock, and the bell soon began pealing and continued all night. By daybreak, one hundred and fifty men had mustered for the defense. John Hancock, with gun and sword, prepared to go out and fight with the minute-men, but Adams checked him:
"That is not our business; we belong to the cabinet." Hancock was loath to accept this, but finally saw the wisdom of Adams's decision and went with him, back through the rear of the house and garden to a thickly wooded hill where they could watch the progress of events.
Dorothy Quincy and Aunt Lydia remained in the house, as no danger was apprehended there, and so by chance were eye witnesses of the first battle of the Revolution. Dorothy watched the fray from her bedroom window and in her narration of it notes: "Two men are being brought into the house. One, whose head has been grazed by a ball, insisted that he was dead, but the other, who was shot through the arm, behaved better."
Hancock and Adams retired from their resting place in the woods to the home of Rev. Mr. Merritt in what is now Burlington, and later removed to Bellerica where they lodged in the house of Amos Wyman until they were ready to proceed to Philadelphia.
It is said that John Hancock and the fair Dorothy had a little disagreement following the Battle of Lexington, just before he started for the Pennsylvania capital. The lady, somewhat unstrung by the events of the day, announced her intention of returning to her father's home in Boston. Hancock, who realized the disordered and unsafe condition of the city, refused to allow this. "No, madam," he said, "you shall not return as long as a British bayonet remains in Boston."
"Recollect, Mr. Hancock," she replied with Vehemence, "I am not under your authority yet. I shall go to my father's to-morrow."
Next day, however, Aunt Lydia smoothed down the ruffled plumage of the little lady and it was many months before she again saw Boston, and when she went back it was as John Hancock's wife.
A few days after the Battle of Lexington, Dorothy and Aunt Lydia Hancock left the residence of Rev. James Clark and went to Fairfield, Conn., where they were to remain for an indefinite period as the guests of Rev. Thaddeus Burr, a leading citizen. There John Hancock and Dorothy Quincy were married on August 23, 1775, by the Rev. Andrew Elliott. They left at once for Philadelphia, by way of New York, arriving September 5th.
John Adams, in writing of the marriage, says: "His choice was very natural, a granddaughter of the great patron and most revered friend of his father. Beauty, politeness, and every domestic virtue justified his predilection."
Hancock was very much in love with his wife. Notwithstanding his many duties as President of the Continental Congress and other public positions, he wrote to her with great frequency when they chanced to be separated, and always with affection and respect, before and after marriage, and in nearly all of his letters he complains because she does not write to him.
The winter Martha Washington spent in Cambridge, she and Mrs. Hancock became warm friends, exchanging frequent visits. It was on the occasion of these informal calls that the wife of the soldier is credited with the somewhat feline remark: "There is a great difference in our situations. Your husband is in the cabinet, but mine is on the battlefield."
John Hancock's position during the Revolution as President of Congress and later as Governor, brought many calls upon both his hospitality and his benevolence. The generosity that marked him as a young man characterized all his career, and his wife entered as heartily into his benefactions as she did his hospitality. After the Revolution, they entertained many people of prominence, as La Fayette, Count D'Estaing, the French Admiral, Prince Edward of England, and many others. One of Mrs. Hancock's grandnieces tells an anecdote of the time when Admiral D'Estaing visited Boston harbour with his fleet. Governor Hancock invited him to dine on a certain date, with thirty of his officers. What was the dismay of the Governor and Mrs. Hancock when the Admiral accepted the invitation, and accompanied his acceptance with the request to be allowed to bring all his officers, including the midshipmen, which would bring the number of guests to above a hundred. There was nothing to do but for the Governor to overlook the Frenchman's bad manners and accede to the request. It was upon Mrs. Hancock's resourcefulness, however, that the duty fell hardest, of providing for so many guests in the short time available. The problem was speedily solved with the exception of the item of milk. The Governor's private dairy could not possibly furnish all that was needed, and there was not a place in Boston where such a supply could be obtained. Mrs. Hancock summoned the life guards and bade them milk the cows pasturing on Boston Common, and if any persons complained, to send them to her. This was done and no one objected. Plenty of milk was obtained and the dinner to the Admiral and his officers was a great success.
Count D'Estaing returned the courtesy by a dinner on board his flagship, at which Mrs. Hancock was the guest of honor. By the side of her plate was a large rosette of ribbon which greatly excited her curiosity. As the toasts were about to be drunk, the Admiral's aide, who sat next to Mrs. Hancock, requested her to pull the ribbon on the rosette, which ran down under the table. She did so and was greatly surprised to find that by so doing she had fired a gun, which was responded to by every vessel in the fleet.
 |
| A 1790 Hancock Autograph Note that states: "The Governor presents his respectful compliments to his Honble . the Lieut. Genl and the Honrble. the Council and request the favor of their Company to dine with him on Saturday next 2 O' Clock-- Wednesday Sept 15, 1790." On the reverse: "A billet from the Gov. to the Lt. Gov. & the Council Sept. -90." On this Autograph note an early manuscript dealer has identified, in pencil, the hand writing as that of Mrs. John Hancock - Historic.us Corporation Collection |
Continental Congress of the United Colonies Presidents
September 5, 1774
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October 22, 1774
| |
October 22, 1774
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October 26, 1774
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May 20, 1775
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May 24, 1775
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May 25, 1775
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July 1, 1776
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Continental Congress of the United States Presidents
July 2, 1776 to February 28, 1781
July 2, 1776
|
October 29, 1777
| |
November 1, 1777
|
December 9, 1778
| |
December 10, 1778
|
September 28, 1779
| |
September 29, 1779
|
February 28, 1781
|
March 1, 1781 to March 3, 1789
March 1, 1781
|
July 6, 1781
| |
July 10, 1781
|
Declined Office
| |
July 10, 1781
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November 4, 1781
| |
November 5, 1781
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November 3, 1782
| |
November 4, 1782
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November 2, 1783
| |
November 3, 1783
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June 3, 1784
| |
November 30, 1784
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November 22, 1785
| |
November 23, 1785
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June 5, 1786
| |
June 6, 1786
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February 1, 1787
| |
February 2, 1787
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January 21, 1788
| |
January 22, 1788
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January 21, 1789
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(1789-1797)
|
(1933-1945)
| |
(1865-1869)
| ||
(1797-1801)
|
(1945-1953)
| |
(1869-1877)
| ||
(1801-1809)
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(1953-1961)
| |
(1877-1881)
| ||
(1809-1817)
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(1961-1963)
| |
(1881 - 1881)
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(1817-1825)
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(1963-1969)
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(1881-1885)
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(1825-1829)
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(1969-1974)
| |
(1885-1889)
| ||
(1829-1837)
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(1973-1974)
| |
(1889-1893)
| ||
(1837-1841)
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(1977-1981)
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(1893-1897)
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(1841-1841)
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(1981-1989)
| |
(1897-1901)
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(1841-1845)
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(1989-1993)
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(1901-1909)
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(1845-1849)
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(1993-2001)
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(1909-1913)
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(1849-1850)
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(2001-2009)
| |
(1913-1921)
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(1850-1853)
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(2009-2017)
| |
(1921-1923)
| ||
(1853-1857)
|
(20017-Present)
| |
(1923-1929)
|
*Confederate States of America
| |
(1857-1861)
| ||
(1929-1933)
| ||
(1861-1865)
|
United Colonies Continental Congress
|
President
|
18th Century Term
|
Age
|
Elizabeth "Betty" Harrison Randolph (1745-1783)
|
09/05/74 – 10/22/74
|
29
| |
Mary Williams Middleton (1741- 1761) Deceased
|
Henry Middleton
|
10/22–26/74
|
n/a
|
Elizabeth "Betty" Harrison Randolph (1745–1783)
|
05/20/ 75 - 05/24/75
|
30
| |
Dorothy Quincy Hancock Scott (1747-1830)
|
05/25/75 – 07/01/76
|
28
| |
United States Continental Congress
|
President
|
Term
|
Age
|
Dorothy Quincy Hancock Scott (1747-1830)
|
07/02/76 – 10/29/77
|
29
| |
Eleanor Ball Laurens (1731- 1770) Deceased
|
Henry Laurens
|
11/01/77 – 12/09/78
|
n/a
|
Sarah Livingston Jay (1756-1802)
|
12/ 10/78 – 09/28/78
|
21
| |
Martha Huntington (1738/39–1794)
|
09/29/79 – 02/28/81
|
41
| |
United States in Congress Assembled
|
President
|
Term
|
Age
|
Martha Huntington (1738/39–1794)
|
03/01/81 – 07/06/81
|
42
| |
Sarah Armitage McKean (1756-1820)
|
07/10/81 – 11/04/81
|
25
| |
Jane Contee Hanson (1726-1812)
|
11/05/81 - 11/03/82
|
55
| |
Hannah Stockton Boudinot (1736-1808)
|
11/03/82 - 11/02/83
|
46
| |
Sarah Morris Mifflin (1747-1790)
|
11/03/83 - 11/02/84
|
36
| |
Anne Gaskins Pinkard Lee (1738-1796)
|
11/20/84 - 11/19/85
|
46
| |
Dorothy Quincy Hancock Scott (1747-1830)
|
11/23/85 – 06/06/86
|
38
| |
Rebecca Call Gorham (1744-1812)
|
06/06/86 - 02/01/87
|
42
| |
Phoebe Bayard St. Clair (1743-1818)
|
02/02/87 - 01/21/88
|
43
| |
Christina Stuart Griffin (1751-1807)
|
01/22/88 - 01/29/89
|
36
|
Constitution of 1787
First Ladies |
President
|
Term
|
Age
|
April 30, 1789 – March 4, 1797
|
57
| ||
March 4, 1797 – March 4, 1801
|
52
| ||
Martha Wayles Jefferson Deceased
|
September 6, 1782 (Aged 33)
|
n/a
| |
March 4, 1809 – March 4, 1817
|
40
| ||
March 4, 1817 – March 4, 1825
|
48
| ||
March 4, 1825 – March 4, 1829
|
50
| ||
December 22, 1828 (aged 61)
|
n/a
| ||
February 5, 1819 (aged 35)
|
n/a
| ||
March 4, 1841 – April 4, 1841
|
65
| ||
April 4, 1841 – September 10, 1842
|
50
| ||
June 26, 1844 – March 4, 1845
|
23
| ||
March 4, 1845 – March 4, 1849
|
41
| ||
March 4, 1849 – July 9, 1850
|
60
| ||
July 9, 1850 – March 4, 1853
|
52
| ||
March 4, 1853 – March 4, 1857
|
46
| ||
n/a
|
n/a
| ||
March 4, 1861 – April 15, 1865
|
42
| ||
February 22, 1862 – May 10, 1865
| |||
April 15, 1865 – March 4, 1869
|
54
| ||
March 4, 1869 – March 4, 1877
|
43
| ||
March 4, 1877 – March 4, 1881
|
45
| ||
March 4, 1881 – September 19, 1881
|
48
| ||
January 12, 1880 (Aged 43)
|
n/a
| ||
June 2, 1886 – March 4, 1889
|
21
| ||
March 4, 1889 – October 25, 1892
|
56
| ||
June 2, 1886 – March 4, 1889
|
28
| ||
March 4, 1897 – September 14, 1901
|
49
| ||
September 14, 1901 – March 4, 1909
|
40
| ||
March 4, 1909 – March 4, 1913
|
47
| ||
March 4, 1913 – August 6, 1914
|
52
| ||
December 18, 1915 – March 4, 1921
|
43
| ||
March 4, 1921 – August 2, 1923
|
60
| ||
August 2, 1923 – March 4, 1929
|
44
| ||
March 4, 1929 – March 4, 1933
|
54
| ||
March 4, 1933 – April 12, 1945
|
48
| ||
April 12, 1945 – January 20, 1953
|
60
| ||
January 20, 1953 – January 20, 1961
|
56
| ||
January 20, 1961 – November 22, 1963
|
31
| ||
November 22, 1963 – January 20, 1969
|
50
| ||
January 20, 1969 – August 9, 1974
|
56
| ||
August 9, 1974 – January 20, 1977
|
56
| ||
January 20, 1977 – January 20, 1981
|
49
| ||
January 20, 1981 – January 20, 1989
|
59
| ||
January 20, 1989 – January 20, 1993
|
63
| ||
January 20, 1993 – January 20, 2001
|
45
| ||
January 20, 2001 – January 20, 2009
|
54
| ||
January 20, 2009 to date
|
45
|
Philadelphia
|
Sept. 5, 1774 to Oct. 24, 1774
| |
Philadelphia
|
May 10, 1775 to Dec. 12, 1776
| |
Baltimore
|
Dec. 20, 1776 to Feb. 27, 1777
| |
Philadelphia
|
March 4, 1777 to Sept. 18, 1777
| |
Lancaster
|
September 27, 1777
| |
York
|
Sept. 30, 1777 to June 27, 1778
| |
Philadelphia
|
July 2, 1778 to June 21, 1783
| |
Princeton
|
June 30, 1783 to Nov. 4, 1783
| |
Annapolis
|
Nov. 26, 1783 to Aug. 19, 1784
| |
Trenton
|
Nov. 1, 1784 to Dec. 24, 1784
| |
New York City
|
Jan. 11, 1785 to Nov. 13, 1788
| |
New York City
|
October 6, 1788 to March 3,1789
| |
New York City
|
March 3,1789 to August 12, 1790
| |
Philadelphia
|
Dec. 6,1790 to May 14, 1800
| |
Washington DC
|
November 17,1800 to Present
|
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