Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Teacher
Hater
Fraud
Also by Charles Trantanella:
Charles Trantanella
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced (except for reviews), stored
in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, electronic, mechanical, pho-
tocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.
Cover: Portrait of Rev. Mabel MacCoy circa 1895, courtesy of Dexter Historical Society. The
white ribbon on her dress was worn in support for the temperance movement.
All photographs in this book are either in the public domain or used with permission.
Printed on acid free paper in the United States of America by Walch Printing, Portland,
Maine, 04103
Absolutely no AI was used to write any of the text. All words by me.
BY NO MEANS WAS THIS WORK SOLELY MY EFFORT, for I have been helped
throughout the process by numerous people. First and foremost, I would like
to thank the staff at the Dexter (ME) Historical Society, specifically the late
Carol Feurtado, and Rick Whitney, Museum Director and Curator, for pro-
viding invaluable information including scans of some photos of Mabel and
her family. I especially enjoyed talking with Carol over the phone on a few
occasions, and I am very sad she is no longer with us, for I feel she would have
been excited by the publication of this book. Just as helpful was Andy Todes-
co, Secretary of the Mansfield (MA) Historical Society, who helped digitize
the old editions of the Mansfield News. If there was one source of information
that convinced me I could write a book about Mabel’s life, it was the Mans-
field News archive, for it allowed me to bear witness to an important part of
her life, in her own words.
I am also grateful for the help of numerous archivists and librarians,
many of whom searched for long-lost information or documents and some-
how struck gold. In order of interaction, I would like to thank: Dean Rog-
ers, Special Collections Assistant, Vassar College Archives; Wenxian Zhang,
Library Director and Head of Archives, and Darla Moore, Archival Special-
ist, Rollins College; Candace Skauge, College Archivist, North Dakota State
University; Rebecca Porter, Court Services Coordinator, Cochise County Su-
perior Court; Wendi Goen, Archivist, Arizona State Archives; Megan Peno,
Research Associate, and Michael Hamilton, Executive Manager, The Mary
Baker Eddy Library; Barbara Bodden, Southern California Genealogical So-
ciety; Brianna Garden, Special Collections Assistant, Princeton University Li-
brary; Suzanne Smailes, Associate Professor and Head of Technical Services,
Wittenberg University Thomas Library; Cynthia Shor, Executive Director,
vii
viii Acknowledgments
Preface xi
1. Lilla, 1856–1880 1
Notes 263
Bibliography 325
Index 331
ix
Preface
“The Heth Aleph Res takes a very important step in history when it ad-
mits ladies to its membership. We understand that it has initiated Miss
Brooks ’96, and Mrs. MacCoy, Special. We regard this move on the part
of the Hebrew letter society with favor, and predict that the ladies will
prove a source of social, moral, and intellectual strength to the fraterni-
ty….”1
At first, I could not believe what I was reading. Does this article say
“ladies” had been admitted into an all-male fraternity? As in women? In the
1890s? I immediately pulled out the Heth Aleph Res membership list from
1893, and sure enough, staring at me in black and white, where the names
of those two women: Angie Brooks, and Mabel L. MacCoy. Somehow, I’d
xi
xii Preface
missed this completely when I first looked it over. Regardless, this informa-
tion was incredible. Here was evidence of a co-ed fraternity at Tufts College
in the 1890s, possibly the first fraternity of its kind in the country. Not at all
what I expected.
General curiosity led me to dig more into these two women pioneers,
for I felt they must have a story to tell. I couldn’t discover much about Angie
Brooks, aside from a singular photograph of her standing with a group of
some of her female classmates (though not Mabel). She married after finish-
ing at Tufts and then disappeared into anonymity, thus leaving me with no
story to tell. However, I had much better luck with Mabel L. MacCoy. I soon
came across a plethora of information about her life—how she was born “Lil-
la Mabel Hodgkins” in Maine, how she married businessman James McCoy
and moved to Tombstone, Arizona, how she became an ordained Univer-
salist minister, and how she eventually embraced a new “science” known as
eugenics. After discovering these snippets of information, all of which were
fascinating, I knew. My next book would be about Mabel.
Given other priorities, though, additional research into Mabel’s life hap-
pened sporadically, as I sometimes went months or even years between Goo-
gle searches. When I did find something new, I filed it away into a folder
and waited for a critical mass to appear. It never did. The problem was a lack
of first-person accounts in her voice, such as letters or diaries, which would
help me understand her life on a personal level. Newspaper articles about
her were one thing, but they told only half her story at best. I knew I needed
something more if I were to move forward. However, early correspondence
with a distant relative of Mabel confirmed there was no such trove of infor-
mation—all her personal artifacts had long been lost to history. At that point
I considered shelving the project, for I felt that without an intimate window
into her life, I wouldn’t be able to tell a compelling story. So, I took my folder
of information and put it aside. Time for something else.
Still, Mabel gnawed at me over the years, for try as I might, I could not
find another story that interested me as much as hers. Slowly more informa-
tion made its way into my folder, including several first-person newspaper ar-
ticles. Mabel, I eventually learned, was a nationally syndicated newspaper col-
Preface xiii
umnist in the early 1900s, often answering questions from readers in “Dear
Abby” form. Here, in these articles, was that first-person voice I wanted, the
voice that let me see her true self. Then came something more. After leaving
Tufts College, Mabel became a Universalist minister in Mansfield, Massa-
chusetts, a job that required her to preach from the pulpit every Sunday. Her
sermons, I figured, would offer an important glimpse into her convictions, if
only I could find them. Newspapers in the 1890s often printed sermons, but
the prominent ones which had been digitized, such as the Boston Globe, never
printed hers. So, her words remained a mystery. That is, until the Mansfield
Public Library in 2019 digitized their collection of the local Mansfield News.
Here, in black-and-white, were many of Mabel’s sermons, perfect examples of
that first-person voice I needed to unlock the secrets of Mabel’s life.
Discovering this information convinced me I could bring this project
back to the forefront. So, I began researching again in earnest and watched
my single folder of information bloom into many more. Now, some thirteen
years after I first started, I have two crates filled with Mabel’s life, including
a few letters she wrote to important people of her day, people who preserved
her words in various archives. The result is a biography of Mabel that I am
excited to tell. Hers was not a simple or straightforward journey, for she was
shaped by many factors including her driving ambition, her quest for love,
her reaction to trauma, and her unwavering opinion she was only doing good
in this world. Along the way she deceived, she said one thing and did another,
she despised many of the less fortunate, and she failed to achieve her own idea
of perfection, an idea she demanded of others. As a result, I wanted the title of
this book to capture her varied and complicated essence succinctly yet com-
pletely. The four words I chose—Preacher, Teacher, Hater, Fraud—succeed in
this regard, at least in my opinion.
The chapters are organized around major turning points in Mabel’s life,
each of which was signified by a name change; her use of multiple aliases
therefore makes for logical breaks in the story. However, throughout the book,
I will refer to her exclusively by her first name, since that remained the most
consistent—or, at least, it did not change as much as her last name. To start,
she will be called “Lilla,” the name given to her at birth. In 1880, though, she
xiv Preface
dropped this forever in favor of her middle name, “Mabel,” so the story does
the same. I also use first names to describe many of the characters, especially
Mabel’s relatives, for their last names changed quite a bit over time, too.
Additionally, Mabel lived during a particularly vibrant time when Amer-
ica began transitioning from a rural economy into a modern, industrial pow-
erhouse. Her life, therefore, intersected many popular movements of the
day—women’s suffrage, temperance, “free love,” modernization of science
and medicine, sexual freedom, socialism—and it was interesting to learn how
her positions meshed with the general populace. In some cases Mabel was
at the forefront of these movements, if not also ahead of her time. But not
always, which is likely one reason she is relatively unknown today. While a
full treatise of Mabel’s place in history is well beyond the scope of this work,
I feel she is still worth talking about because she talked about a lot. Even if
she wasn’t always right.
HERE, THEN, IS THE STORY OF Lilla Mabel Hodgkins, a.k.a. Mabel L. Hod-
gkins, a.k.a. Mabel Rossmore, a.k.a. Mabel L. McCoy, a.k.a. Rev. Mabel Mac-
Coy, a.k.a. Rev. Mabel MacCoy Irwin, a.k.a. Mabel MacCoy Irwin Moore,
a.k.a. Dr. Mabel Irwin. The preacher, the teacher, the hater, and the fraud.
Westford, MA
April 2024
Preacher
Teacher
Hater
Fraud
1
Lilla
1856–1880
1
2 preacher teacher hater fraud
Dexter through her early teens, and in 1870 she was listed as “attending
school.” Given the location of her family’s house on Upper Garland Road,
this school was likely the one-room Carr School. Lilla attended with her sib-
lings and neighbors, all grouped together regardless of age, for about twen-
ty weeks each year, with the remainder of the time allotted for farm work.
Outside of school, organized religion was a staple of life in 19th century rural
New England, and Dexter certainly had its fair share of churches. Methodist
(1822), Baptist (1825), Universalist (1828), Congregational (1834), Episco-
pal (1866), and Free Baptist (1869) denominations all had active churches
in town during the 1860s and 1870s. However, there is no evidence either
Lilla or her family attached themselves in any meaningful way to any of them
during this formative time. Still, the First Universalist Church of Dexter
would eventually see two of Lilla’s siblings married in that sanctuary. Not
Lilla, though, despite the opportunity to do so.2
Instead, Lilla’s formative years can be somewhat understood by looking
to her family and the influence they exerted. Or at least some in her family,
for not all played equal parts. Almost nothing is known about her mother,
Mary Ann, except that she was in charge of “keeping house,” the only occupa-
tion ever attributed to her on federal census forms. Her father Jairus is much a
different story. Farming was his chief occupation most of his adult life, but his
talents extended far beyond the fields. He was also a beekeeper, fox trapper,
peddler, and, later in life, a trial justice after an appointment by the Governor
of Maine, despite having no formal education in the law. He ran for postmas-
ter of Dexter in 1885, though it appears he lost the five-way race, and he was
heavily involved in Democratic party politics. Jairus also had a long running
passion for music throughout most of his life. For decades, he was an accom-
plished vocal instructor and conducted many of the singing schools in and
around town. Lilla was undoubtedly one of his students as an adolescent, for
music and performance would become a staple of her adult life.3
Jairus’s biggest performance as a vocalist was likely in the fall of 1888.
That year, he made a bet with local Republican leader Benjamin Eldridge.
If the Democrat’s presidential candidate won the election, Eldridge would
join Jairus in a public singing of a Democratic song Jairus had written. If the
Lilla 3
Lilla’s four brothers are a completely different story, for they were es-
sentially non-existent in her life. The problem was early mortality. Her old-
est brother, Oliver, died before she was born, while her youngest brother,
Chester, died at age three in 1860, when Lilla wasn’t much older herself.
The two brothers she did know, Aldah and Warren, who were three and five
years older, respectively, lived at home with Lilla until at least 1870, and all
three likely attended the Carr School together. But both brothers left Dexter
shortly thereafter, and both died before the turn of the 20th century in places
far removed from Lilla’s life. Indeed, they will show up nowhere else in the
narrative ahead, for I found no evidence Lilla interacted with them in any
meaningful way after 1870.6
LILLA’S STORY, therefore, begins in 1871 when, at age fifteen, she, too, left
Dexter and the Carr School behind for good. Her destination was the nearby
town of Dover, Maine. For work, she took a job that was very popular with
young girls across the country: schoolteacher. Dover, however, was very sim-
ilar to Dexter, as both were small, rural Maine farming communities. Lilla
had her sights set on bigger things. So, after no more than a year or two as
a teacher in Dover, she headed for Boston, Massachusetts, a move probably
influenced by her oldest sister, Mary (now Mary Plunkett), who lived just
north of the city. Lilla held various jobs her first few years in Boston includ-
ing dressmaker, employee in a dry goods store, and “waiter-girl,” as waitresses
were called back then. By 1874, she had followed in her father’s passion and
firmly established herself as a music teacher. In this role she excelled. For
example, during the summer of 1874, she spent a few weeks back in Augus-
ta, Maine, under the sponsorship of the Children’s Cold Water Temple, a
recently formed temperance club for children ages six through sixteen. There
she led a children’s choir in a series of instructional lessons followed by pub-
lic performances, similar to modern-day music or theater camps. Advertise-
ments for the program in the Daily Kennebec Journal referred to her as “the
accomplished teacher of music,” and urged all to take advantage of the free
opportunity. Later, reviews of the performances in the same newspaper stated
“The singing by the children showed that Miss Hodgkins’ skill in training has
Lilla 5
not been without avail during this term.… It was a very rich performance in
every particular.” Lilla even helped make the children’s costumes. All told, the
series of performances was deemed a huge success. This was likely one of the
first times Lilla worked professionally with young children in an educational
setting. It would not be her last.7
In the summer of 1875, Lilla showed up for the first time in The Boston
Directory, an annual record of those living in the city. Lilla’s address that year
was 3 Stevens in Charlestown, with music teacher listed as her profession.
Her choice of lodging that year is interesting. Also living in the house was
Mrs. M. J. Folsom, who had a slightly different job title: magnetic physician.
Mystics, clairvoyants, and other spiritual healers abounded in Boston at this
time, and Mrs. Folsom appears to have been a popular one. She (supposedly)
used clairvoyance and the channeling of spirits to diagnose and treat all sorts
of afflictions for which traditional medicine of the day had failed. One could
meet face-to-face at her office for $1 or be treated remotely by sending her
a lock of hair and $2. Her advertisements in spiritualist magazines such as
Banner of Light claimed “Many remarkable cures have been performed by the
intelligences that operate through her,” and an editorial about her practice
stated “those who [have been treated by Mrs. Folsom] bear high testimony
to her qualifications, and the fact that she is so constantly busy is testimony
of itself.” Mrs. Folsom was also called upon at least once to help prove that
spiritual mediums were indeed real. In 1875, she took part in a séance as an
observer. Seated in a dark, sealed room with ten other observers, and with the
spiritual medium, Mrs. Thayer, encased in a sealed muslin bag, Mrs. Folsom
supposedly witnessed Mrs. Thayer summon various objects into the space
including a white dove, a canary bird, and an orange. As reported in the mag-
azine Spiritualism, “Several of those [séance attendees] named we believe to
be careful investigators, and they are unanimous in their endorsement of the
genuineness of the phenomena.”8
Lilla lived with Mrs. Folsom for no more than two years, however, and
while their encounter was brief in the scheme of life, Lilla was likely influ-
enced by Mrs. Folsom’s non-traditional medical practice, for she would em-
brace a similar idea in the future. But not right away. Instead, by the summer
6 preacher teacher hater fraud
W. H. H. Murray
The year was 1840, the place was Guilford, Connecticut, and the new-
born baby was William Henry Harrison Murray, named in part as homage
to the man who would become president later that year. Just don’t call him
that—he preferred, simply, “Bill.” Not that it mattered, because no one ex-
pected him to amount to anything, including himself. “I was born of poor
parents, as the majority of New England boys were in my day,” he described
later. “There had never been a rich rascal in our family, nor did I come from
literary stock.” Instead, he went to school until age seven, then began to earn
his own living “as every boy should,” he opined. Farm labor became his pro-
fession, as he worked not only his family’s property, but neighboring farms as
well. By the time he was fourteen, though, he was actively working to change
his fate, mainly by reading every book he could get his hands on. Then, two
years later, he went back to school. He enrolled at the newly established Guil-
ford Institute and paid his own way using money he’d earned through farm
work. Getting to school each day was no easy task. Murray had to walk the
four miles there and back, often in bare feet so as not to wear out his shoes.
However, he frequently spent nights at the homes of classmates who lived
closer to the school. He was welcomed into these homes in no small part due
to his eloquence, humor, and good nature. In fact, Murray’s classmates often
competed to host him for the night given his popularity. What he lacked in
money he certainly had overflowing in charisma.10
Unfortunately, Murray’s change from farm work to education did not sit
well with those close to him. “I had no help, no encouragement. My father
Lilla 7
Suffice to say, a few days later Fields had changed his mind completely.
Both he and his wife loved the stories and thought the general public would,
too. Murray’s subsequent book, titled Adventures in the Wilderness; or, Camp-
ing Life in the Adirondacks became an instant hit when it was first released in
April 1869. Within two months, Murray was a very rich man, as folks bought
the book en masse and, more importantly, began heading to the Adirondacks
that summer to experience what “Adirondack Murray” talked about. The rush
continued unabated for years. Adirondack Murray had just started the va-
cation camping craze in America. In addition to pure recreation, though,
Murray used his book to speak about the healing powers associated with time
in the outdoors. “Another reason why I visit the Adirondacks, and urge others
to do so,” he wrote, “is because I deem the excursion eminently adapted to
restore impaired health.” Those suffering from consumption (tuberculosis)
seemed especially ripe for the benefit, and Murray included an extreme ex-
ample of a very sick young man healed of his affliction after spending sixty
days in the wilderness.18
Following the release of his book, Murray next embarked on a series of
additional business ventures unrelated to his ministerial duties, for it seems
the pull of fame and fortune had taken strong hold. In 1870, he purchased his
family’s homestead and other nearby properties in Guilford, Connecticut, so
he could raise and breed horses. By 1874, he had left Park Street Congrega-
tional Church over differences in direction, and worked to organize his own,
independent entity known as the New England Church, which proved suc-
cessful for a few years and paid him a staggering $7,000 a year in salary. The
church met in Music Hall, though Murray was actively raising (some would
say demanding) money from his congregation to build a permanent worship
space. In October 1875, he started a weekly religious magazine entitled The
Golden Rule, ostensibly to publish his sermons if not also further tales of life
in the Adirondacks. Response to the magazine was strong, especially among
his ex-congregants of Greenwich. With all these activities going on, Murray
needed an assistant to help manage his affairs and take his dictations, some-
one he could trust without question. By 1877, he’d found his amanuensis.
Enter Lilla Mabel Hodgkins.19
12 preacher teacher hater fraud
When Lilla walked into the Boston office of The Golden Rule as Murray’s
newly hired assistant, she immediately turned heads. “She was a very pretty
girl, stylish and entertaining, and her age was about twenty-two years,” de-
scribed one of the office workers. Although supposedly known to Murray for
many years through family friendships, Lilla was a mystery to Murray’s older
brother, Chauncey, who also worked for The Golden Rule. Chauncey there-
fore took it upon himself to perform a background check on his brother’s
new amanuensis. Apparently, what he found was not disconcerting, for Lilla
remained in Murray’s employ. Thus began a three-year relationship between
Lilla and Adirondack Murray, an education like no other.20
Lilla’s main job was transcribing Murray’s sermons, stories, and books,
which he preferred to dictate in a slow, deliberate manner. Lilla at first
used shorthand to record Murray, but soon switched to the newly invented
type-writer to capture his words directly to paper. In this role Lilla thrived,
even becoming a part of the extended Murray family. For example, when
Murray returned home to Guilford for the summer of 1877, Lilla moved
in so he could continue his dictations. This situation created an interesting
dynamic since Murray’s wife, Isadore, also lived in the house. However, it
appears Lilla and Isadore got along well and became friends. This friendship
was likely tested a year later. In the summer of 1878, Murray and Lilla trav-
eled without Isadore to the Adirondacks and then Montreal for an extended
working vacation. Such an arrangement seemed reasonable on the surface.
Murray was using the trip to write and promote his horse breeding business,
so he needed Lilla’s help in her professional capacity. However, it was quite
uncommon, some would even say scandalous, for a married man to be travel-
ing with a woman who was not his wife, especially when that woman (Lilla)
was sixteen years his junior.21
Then came the letter. During that summer of 1878, Murray received a
letter at his office of The Golden Rule which suggested he was not a faithful
husband. The author of this letter was a woman who had recently painted a
portrait of one of Murray’s horses. And while the author’s name is not men-
Lilla 13
tioned, it was definitely not Isadore or Lilla—in fact, Lilla had also written
the office that summer, but her correspondence was completely professional.
The letter from the artist, by contrast, was not. She wrote:
THE LATE SUMMER OF 1878 also saw Murray embark on yet another busi-
ness opportunity. As the story goes, some years earlier Murray worked with
a medicine peddler, James Phillips, to create a horse-drawn wagon that did
not bounce or jostle as much as those typical of the day. Murray realized
this new “buckboard wagon” could be worth a fortune, so he helped Phillips
patent and then commercialize the invention. Here, though, Murray realized
such a venture was beyond his singular capability, so with the help of sever-
al investors and businessmen, he organized the Murray Wagon Company
(soon renamed the Boston Buckboard Company). Murray provided some
start-up capital and, more importantly, mass advertising via The Golden Rule
14 preacher teacher hater fraud
beginning in the fall of 1878. Large and frequent announcements for various
models of the “Boston Buckboard” appeared in his paper, and soon the orders
were pouring in. He next set up a business office and showroom in the same
building as The Golden Rule, while his partners opened a manufacturing fac-
tory in New Haven, Connecticut, considered a hub of wagon making at the
time. By the end of 1878, Murray reported nearly three hundred wagons had
been ordered in the span of three weeks, and months later the factory could
not keep up with the work.23
Then came the fateful summer of 1879. Murray and Lilla planned yet
another working vacation together, but this trip had little to do with writing.
The problem here was Murray’s continued lack of financial acumen over the
years. Simply put, he was buried under serious debt. His horse and breeding
operations were the main culprit, as they had been shedding money to the
point where the equity in his farm no longer covered the loans it backed. Ad-
ditionally, The Golden Rule had gone under. Earlier in the year he’d cut back
publication from weekly to monthly to control costs, but by May of 1879,
he was forced to sell the enterprise, most likely at a significant loss. He’d
also given up the pulpit of his independent church, so that stream of steady
income was cut off, and his books, while still popular, were not bringing in
the royalties as they once did. Further complicating his situation, Murray
over the years had made himself financially responsible for his parents, his
sister, his wife (who was attending medical school) and her parents, so all
told the money was going out much faster than it was coming in. Now, in
the summer of 1879, too many bills were coming due all at once. However,
Murray saw a chance for financial reprieve. The one bright spot in his port-
folio was the Boston Buckboard Company. Murray owned significant stock
in the operation, so he planned a business trip to Chicago and, if necessary,
San Francisco, to sell investors a stake in the growing enterprise. If all went
as expected, Murray would emerge at the end of the trip with enough money
to pay his debts, settle the mortgages on his estate, and resume his passions,
especially horse breeding.24
The trip first started with some rest for the exhausted Murray. Sometime
in early July 1879, Murray headed into the Adirondacks to camp while Lilla,
Lilla 15
who had traveled with him, stayed nearby in Lake Saranac, New York, to
manage his affairs. By now she was in complete control of his financial doc-
uments, and Murray trusted her business sense much more than he trusted
his own. While away, Lilla wrote a few letters to Murray’s business partner at
the Boston Buckboard Company, saying he “had gone far into the woods on
a hunting and fishing trip.” Where exactly Murray had gone, Lilla didn’t say,
but it hardly mattered. Everyone assumed all would work out in the end.25
Things did not. Everything began falling apart on (or about) July 21,
1879. That day, the local sheriff knocked on the door of Murray’s farm in
Guilford, looking for the owner. Isadore answered and said he wasn’t there.
Regardless, the sheriff explained, he’d come to seize Murray’s property as pay-
ment to his debt holders, for Murray was way behind in his bills, and many
of the recent checks he’d written had bounced. The sheriff then proceeded to
haul away two horses, some oxen, and a wagon as partial payment. Isadore
was not surprised by this, for she knew Murray had been under financial
stress for years. With their marriage also faltering for a while, she had in re-
cent years taken some modicum of control by pursuing a medical degree, an
insurance policy on herself, one could argue. Soon it became clear she might
need to cash in. Multiple creditors came by the farm in the days that followed
and took all they could as debt payment, including forty tons of hay and
more of Murray’s prized horses. The homestead was being picked clean. All
Isadore could do was watch.26
Other folks were watching as well, namely the people of Guilford, for this
was big news in town. Any hope such gossip would remain a local matter was
shattered a few days later, when, on August 2, the story broke through three
separate articles in the Boston Globe, each offering different levels of detail.
Headlines in large font screamed “Parson Murray” and “Murray In Trouble,”
no doubt capitalizing on his name and local popularity to lure readers. Mean-
while, the sub-headlines teased the emerging story:
The Paper of the Former Park Street Preacher Pastor Protested, And His
Valuable Property at Guilford Attached, While He is Enjoying Himself as
an Adirondack Hunter
The body of these articles presented the history of Murray’s various financial
failings, how everyone knew he was a terrible businessman, and yet how ev-
eryone still loaned him money whenever he asked. Murray’s charm was clear-
ly his best business asset. One reporter also went to great lengths to portray
Murray as mediocre at best throughout the years—during his time at Yale, as
pastor in Meriden, and as publisher of The Golden Rule— as if to say Murray
had never been much of a success at anything, so his complete financial ruin
was no surprise. Just a few years earlier, he’d been considered one of the finest
preachers in the country, reaping praise from nearly all who wrote about him.
Now, he was regarded as a failure.27
Two people in particular, though, had not heard the local Guilford gossip
or seen these articles: Murray, and Lilla. Murray emerged from the woods
in mid-July before any news broke, met up with Lilla in Burlington, Ver-
mont, and together sailed on his yacht across Lake Champlain to Plattsburgh,
New York. What happened after reaching Plattsburgh is a little unclear, but
it appears Murray continued west to Chicago and San Francisco as planned,
while Lilla stayed behind and headed into the woods for a vacation. It was in
Plattsburgh, though, where debt collectors came calling in early August and
promptly seized Murray’s yacht. Lilla immediately recognized Murray was in
trouble and needed her help to get out of this intact. So, she threw herself into
the task. She cut her vacation short and went back to Plattsburgh to settle the
situation there, then headed for New York City to meet with Murray’s lawyer
and friend from Meriden, Oliver Platt, to settle other remaining legal issues.
Telegrams to Murray were sent, but he was over 3,000 miles away by then and
would be unable to deal with the situation. It was all up to Lilla.28
Lilla 17
Meanwhile, her task was only getting more difficult. Within a day af-
ter these first articles appeared, Murray’s plight was reprinted in newspapers
across the country, no doubt fueled by the celebrity nature “Adirondack
Murray” had built up over the past decade. More details emerged with each
reprinting as reporters dug up whatever they could find, and these small snip-
pets of gossip only added to the interest into the goings on of the ex-preacher.
On August 4, the public learned about Murray’s yacht seizure, and how his
amanuensis was headed back home to deal with the legal issues. This aman-
uensis had yet to be named in public (aside from one mention in the small
newspaper the Meriden (CT) Daily Republican), so a reporter from the St.
Albans Advertiser in Vermont went searching. He found her waiting in St.
Albans for a train to New York City. An interview ensued, where Lilla did all
she could to defend her boss. “I expect to meet up his counsel, Senator Oliver
H. Platt, of Connecticut,” she said. “We can settle up all this troublesome
business and Mr. Murray will come out of it honorably. Mr. Murray would
die rather than do anything dishonorable.”29
Lilla, though, had another problem that looked to eclipse Murray’s fi-
nancial collapse. She also had to defend herself and her reputation. Days
earlier, an article in The New York Times on Murray’s troubles led many to
believe he and his yet-named amanuensis had “disappeared mysteriously” in
the Adirondacks to elope. Murray’s story now included a full-blown scandal
of infidelity if not also bigamy, and while the facts were scant, the insinua-
tion was not. One can imagine how unsettling this must have been for Lilla
after being publicly identified as the amanuensis. After all, she was just twen-
ty-three years old with no experience navigating the public spotlight. Now, in
her first interview, she was being asked about her relationship with a married
man, a famous man known across the country. To her credit, she did not shy
away from the questions. From the beginning she “denied with indignation
the insinuation that they had eloped.” Furthermore, she worked to recast her
relationship with her boss as one of purely platonic in nature. “Our family
and Mr. Murray’s have been friends for many years,” she continued. “Mrs.
Murray is a very dear friend of mine.” And with that she managed to turn the
conversation back to Murray.30
18 preacher teacher hater fraud
Her interview from Vermont first appeared in print in The New York
Times on August 6, 1879, aside a longer article. Another reporter, this one
from the Times, had tracked Lilla down when she stopped in New Haven,
and that interview, along with the one given in St. Albans, were published
side-by-side that day. The Times reporter also asked Lilla about her relations
with Murray, to which Lilla was forced to give another response. “She [Lilla]
emphatically denies that Mr. Murray has been taking a pleasure trip with her
in the Adirondacks or anywhere else,” the article stated. However, Lilla soon
added another detail to back up her claim. She insisted to the Times reporter
she had not seen Murray since he left Boston earlier in the summer, a few
weeks before she went to the Adirondacks, alone. Although few if any readers
were likely able to put two-and-two together at this point, we know through
hindsight this statement was a lie. Murray’s business partner had stated earlier
to the Boston Globe that Lilla left with Murray at the start of his vacation, facts
supported by the letters Lilla wrote while waiting for Murray to emerge from
the wilderness. Also, in late July, Lilla had been seen traveling with Murray on
his yacht across Lake Champlain, a sighting first reported just two days earlier
and currently being reprinted across the country on a daily basis.31
One could hardly blame Lilla for lying. She was in an awful spot, and
likely knew it. The possibility of an illicit relationship between her and Mur-
ray was too juicy a tidbit for reporters to ignore, despite her denials. So, it
appears she expanded her narrative to say she hadn’t seen him in months,
probably in hopes of tamping down the scandal. Lilla was devoted to Murray
on a personal and professional level and wanted to do all she could to help
him through this trying moment. His financial failings could be dealt with
in due time, she likely figured, but an accusation of adultery if not bigamy
was a whole different situation, one from which they both might not recover.
Despite her best efforts, though, she was losing the battle. After all, stories of
a sex scandal involving a nationally known celebrity sell newspapers. No way
the newspapers were going to stop now.32
WHILE LILLA WAS ABSORBING THE BRUNT of this press assault, the one per-
son not yet heard from was Murray himself. By late July, he’d arrived in San
Lilla 19
Francisco via Chicago. Reporters descended on the city to find the former
pastor once the story broke in early August, but so far everyone was coming
up short. “He is said to be in San Francisco, but cannot be found,” was a
common headline. Then, on August 7, 1879, the first sighting of Murray
appeared. As reported in The Daily Gazette (Wilmington, DE),
Then, no more substantial news about Murray in the papers, aside from short
mentions that his friends had recently received letters postmarked from San
Francisco. The reporters kept searching for him, though, for they felt there
was more to the story.33
Meanwhile, with no news from Murray, many in the press refocused their
attention on Lilla. Almost every day in August, articles about her personal
history and her relationship with Murray were printed and reprinted across
the country, often with a physical description of her in the text, in case any-
one wondered what she looked like. New details were slow to emerge, but
when they did, they at least started casting Lilla in a more sympathetic light.
The likely reason was a lack of hard evidence she and Murray were roman-
tically involved, let alone now married. For example, one reporter from The
New York Sun turned up at the offices of The Golden Rule to interview Lilla’s
co-workers. What he found led him to start changing the story about Lilla.
“There is a vast deal of scandalous gossip retailed by a former female employe
[sic] in The Golden Rule concerning the alleged relations between Mr. Mur-
ray and the young lady [Lilla],” this reporter wrote, “but it is not substantiat-
20 preacher teacher hater fraud
ed.” Newspapers across the country soon began to reprint these words, which
was probably welcome relief to Lilla and Murray.34
Lilla finished up Murray’s business as best she could in New York City
then headed out of town. Detroit, Michigan, was her destination, the home
of her oldest sister, Mary Plunkett. No doubt Lilla was hoping to retreat
from the spotlight with this visit. Once she arrived in Detroit, though, stories
about Murray started breaking from San Francisco after a reporter had finally
tracked him down. And did this reporter have some great gossip to tell. Since
leaving Chicago, Murray had been in the company of two young women,
Miss Fannie Bursley and Miss Mary Gallagher, both of whom had supposedly
known the Murray family for many years. The three were now in San Fran-
cisco, staying in the same hotel (but separate floors) while taking in the sights
together. Murray, of course, had a reasonable explanation as to why he was
with these women—he was performing a favor by acting as their chaperone
while they traveled—but the headlines screamed a different story:
EXTRA!
Mysterious Murray
The subsequent details in the article certainly made it seem like something
unseemly was going on between Murray and the two women while they wait-
ed for Fannie’s father to arrive. The three had been seen about town in numer-
ous social situations, a fact which so disconcerted the hotel proprietor that
he threw them out and forced the group to move to a cottage outside the city
for the rest of their time in town. Additionally, many of Murray’s professional
friends in the city had not been called upon in any regard, which was seen as
rather strange. “All of Murray’s movements since his arrival in the city have
been marked with mystery,” wrote one reporter in an article which was widely
Lilla 21
repeated. “He has avoided meeting acquaintances, and has even neglected to
call on the Rev. Dr. Stone, whom he succeeded in the Park Street Church in
Boston…. In order to disguise himself, he has grown a full black beard and
dresses in a style suggestive of a brakeman on duty.”35
The emergence of Murray once again in late August piqued the public’s
interest in his affairs. Articles appeared coast-to-coast, often with the head-
lines in large, hard-to-miss font. Lilla was drawn quickly back into the fray
when one reporter misidentified Fannie Bursley as “Lilla Mabel Hodgkins
Bursley,” as if to say Murray was still in the sordid company of his aman-
uensis. Since no one had yet published a picture of Lilla, and with the two
nearly identical in age and appearance, it is easy to understand how this San
Francisco reporter made such an assumption. Of course, he was completely
wrong. Fannie Bursley was indeed a real and separate person.36
The confusion prompted one Detroit reporter to track down Lilla and
her sister Mary. He found them both. His subsequent article featured an
extended interview with Mary and Lilla, both of whom displayed an amuse-
ment of sorts that the press was still inquiring about Murray’s doings, and
that Lilla was supposedly in San Francisco with Murray at the same time she
was definitely in Detroit with her sister. It was the end of the article, though,
where the reporter quoted Lilla and put a finality to her involvement in the
saga:
“I am going abroad,” [Lilla] said, with more enthusiasm than she had
yet manifested. “I shall leave next month for Paris where I mean to
improve my French and devote considerable time to music,” pointing
with loving regard to a violin which stood in the corner of the room.
“That is my amusement and comfort; then I have other studies to fill up
my time, and expect to spend a year among the art treasures of the old
world.”
Also included in the text was the most detailed physical description yet pub-
lished of Lilla. With no photos of Lilla available from this period of her life, it
is worth printing those words to get a sense of her physical appearance.
22 preacher teacher hater fraud
Within a month, Lilla was on a ship headed to Europe. Soon thereafter, her
name stopped appearing in the press. Finally.37
Not Murray’s. He returned east sometime in late September 1879 to find
everything still in disarray. His sale of buckboard stock had not netted the
money he needed, so his family homestead went into foreclosure, his wife,
Isadore, left him, and what remained of his life looked to be a complete mess.
Altogether, great fodder for the newspapers, which continued to print stories
about him that fall. So, he, too, soon departed for Europe to re-invent him-
self, eventually ending up in Liverpool, England, in February 1880. Lilla and
Murray were now both on the run from the press, from the gossip, and, most
likely, from each other.38
Murray’s influence
to near perfection in the years ahead. She must also have gained great confi-
dence in herself through the management of Murray’s affairs despite no for-
mal business training. Lilla was clearly intelligent. She just needed a mentor
to develop that intelligence, and Murray excelled in this regard through his
successes and failures.39
Murray also opened Lilla’s eyes to new ideas. By the late 1870s, in the
sermons and writings he dictated to Lilla, Murray was advocating socially
progressive ideas including the equality of women, the importance of the
temperance movement, the need for relaxation, and the restorative powers of
nature. Murray’s embrace of religion had evolved, too, from a mainline, old-
school Congregationalist, to a reformed and modern practitioner of Protes-
tantism that considered charity and equality much more important than eter-
nal salvation or evangelicalism. All this progressive thinking Lilla absorbed
and stored away for later use.40
Still, an interesting question remains: did Lilla and Murray have an af-
fair during their time together, especially during the summer of 1879? They
both gave conflicting and changing accounts of their whereabouts during that
fateful month, including details often at odds with information provided by
independent witnesses. Such inconsistencies certainly speak of the two trying
to cover something up, each in their own way. Then there’s the situation with
Murray and Fannie Bursley, one of his San Francisco companions, a relation-
ship that will develop romantically in the years ahead. Fannie, like Lilla, was
about fifteen years younger than Murray. As will be discussed, Murray was
attracted to younger women throughout his life and, more importantly, had
the charisma to charm them.41
Returning to the question of Lilla and Murray as a romantic couple,
though, yields no definitive answer. There is just no concrete evidence of an
affair between the two. Circumstantially, however, and given how Lilla will
act in the next few decades with regards to personal relationships, it is more
likely than not she and Murray were involved romantically, possibly for a
couple of years.42
(pages 24-324 intentionally left blank in this preview,
but rest assured, they are in the full book!)
Bibliography
325
326 Bibliography
Marlborough, Massachusetts
Marlborough Historical Society
Medford, Massachusetts
Tufts University archives
New York, New York
New York City Department of Records and Information Services/Municipal
Archives
Phoenix, Arizona
Arizona State Library archives
Poughkeepsie, New York
Vassar College archives
Princeton, New Jersey
Princeton University archives
San Francisco, California
Internet Archive
Springfield, Ohio
Wittenberg University archives
Washington, D.C.
National Archives
Winter Park, Florida
Rollins College archives
Worcester, Massachusetts
American Antiquarian Society
Allen, Garland E. “The Eugenics Record Office at Cold Spring Harbor, 1910–1940:
An Essay in Institutional History.” Osiris 2, (1986): 225–264.
________. “Eugenics and Modern Biology: Critiques of Eugenics, 1910–1945.”
Annals of Human Genetics 75 (2010): 314–325.
Beach, Randall S. A Passionate Life: W. H. H. Murray, from Preacher to Progressive.
Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 2022.
Bodden, Barbara Phyfe Young. “Be Careful What You Tell your Children.” The
Searcher 52, no. 2 (Spring 2015): 58, 64–65.
The Boston Directory, Embracing the City Record, a General Directory of the Citizens,
and a Business Directory for the Year Commencing July 1, 1875. Boston, MA:
Sampson, Davenport, and Company, 1875.
The Boston Directory, Embracing the City Record, a General Directory of the Citizens,
and a Business Directory for the Year Commencing July 1, 1877. Boston, MA:
Sampson, Davenport, and Company, 1877.
Chamberlain, Joshua L., ed. University of Pennsylvania its History, Influence, Equip-
ment and Characteristics with Biographical Sketches and Portraits of Founders,
Benefactors, Officers and Alumni. Boston, MA: R. Hendon Company, 1902.
Chase, Halcyon. “The Early History of the Town of Dexter.” The Eastern Gazette 43
(August 4, 1904): 1–48.
Davis, Francis Y. Genealogy of the Ancestry and Descendants of Captain Francis Davis.
Dayton, OH: The Otterbein Press, 1910.
Dennett, Mary Ware. The Sex Side of Life: An Explanation for Young People. Astoria,
NY: self-published, 1919.
Dennett, Mary Ware. Birth Control Laws: Shall we keep them, change them, or abolish
them. New York, NY: Grafton Press, 1926.
________. Who’s Obscene? New York, NY: The Vanguard Press, 1930.
Dresser, Horatio W. A History of the New Thought Movement. New York, NY: Thom-
as Y. Crowell Company, 1919.
Gallagher, Eugene V. and W. Michael Ashcraft, eds. Introduction to New and Alter-
native Religions in America Volume I: Histories and Controversies. Westport, CT:
Greenwood Press, 2006.
328 Bibliography
Wilbur, Sibyl. The Life of Mary Baker Eddy. New York, NY: Concord Publishing
Company, 1907.
Young, Terence. Heading Out: A History of American Camping. Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press, 2017.
Index
One difficulty encountered when creating the index was the numerous names used by Mabel throughout
her life. Therefore, her activities have been categorized under these different names by year. See the table
below for the correlation.
331
332 Index
Boston Globe, 15, 18, 59, 69, 71–72, 77, 83–84, Cradle, The, 111–113, 149, 249
92–93, 214 Crawford, Samuel Oakley, 179, 186, 305 (n. 8).
Boston, Massachusetts, 4–5, 10, 12, 18, 22, See also Worthington, A. Bentley
43–47, 49–50, 69, 81, 83, 93, 96, 98, 110, 115 Crocker, Charles Matthew, 248
Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 41, 172, 201, 206
Brooklyn Eugenics Society, 155 Daily Kennebec Journal, 4, 172
Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences, 254–255 Dalton, Samuel H., 29
Brooklyn, New York, 40–41, 47, 49, 60, 82, 155, Darwin, Charles, 112
157, 202 Davenport, Dr. Charles B., 254–256
Brooks, Angie, 66–67 Davidson, Peter, 203
Brooks, Nona L., 51–52, 232 Delaware Society of Social Hygiene, 142–143,
Browne’s School of Phonography, 6 146–148
Buffalo, New York, 171 Demorest prize, 73
Bundy Manufacturing Company, 224 Dennett, Mary Ware, 149–154, 248–253, 260,
Burlington, Vermont, 17, 216–217 299 (n. 10), 322 (n. 117)
Bursley, Captain Ira, 211 Dennis, Samuel W., 39
Bursley, Fannie, 20–21, 26–27, 209, 211–213, Detroit, Michigan, 20–21, 27, 36, 45
215, 217–218, 269 (n. 2) Dexter, Maine, 1–2, 25, 92, 101, 107, 115, 133,
Bursley, Josephine, 211 138, 170, 172, 199, 207, 209
Bush, Vannevar, 258 Divine Science, 52, 168–170, 177–178, 232
Divorce: James McCoy from Emma Sloan, 31,
Carnegie Institute, 157, 255, 258 33, 37; Mabel MacCoy from Francis Irwin,
Carr School, 2, 4 96–97, 287 (n. 11); Mabel MacCoy Irwin from
Cenquita, Irene, 176–178 Edward Moore, 109; Mabel McCoy from James
Chicago, Illinois, 46–47, 50–51, 53, 96, McCoy, 61, 63–64; Mabel’s views on, 101, 140,
106–107, 109, 115, 232 163; Mary Plunkett from A. Bentley Worthing-
Children’s Cold Water Temple, 4 ton, 188; Mary Plunkett from John Plunkett,
Choral Hall, 191–192, 199. See also Temple of 57–58; Viola Hodgkins from John Friend, 200;
Truth William Murray from Isadore Hull, 216–217;
Christchurch, New Zealand, 180–188, 190–193 William Murray’s views on, 213
Christian Science, 42, 46–56, 59–60, 64–65, 81, Dover, Maine, 4
84–86, 109–110, 143, 154, 183, 200, 202, Dunn, George, 228
206, 231–232; Eddy’s version of, 46; Mabel’s
version of, 84–88; Mary Plunkett’s version of, Earll, Rev. Irene, 142–143
49–56, 58 Eddy, Mary Baker, 46–50, 60, 81, 83–86, 200,
Church of Christ Life, 83–86, 89, 92, 97, 236 202, 204, 206–207
Church of Divine Science, The, 168–170. See also Eldridge, Benjamin, 2
Divine Science Electro–therapeutic techniques, 79
Civil War, 28–29, 182, 305 (n. 8) Elmwood colony, 240, 242–243
Clionian Society, 7 Emma Hopkins College of Christian Science,
Cold Spring Harbor, Long Island, New York, 51–53, 201, 230–232
156–157, 254–256 Ernst, Morris L., 252
Columbia University, 182 Eugenics, 112–114, 117–119, 121–133, 138,
Computer-Tabulating-Recording Company, 141–143, 145–148, 155–157, 159, 165–167,
228–229 169, 256–258, 260, 292 (n. 2), 299 (n. 10);
Comstock Act of 1873 (Comstock Laws), 111, and institutionalization, 147; and marriage,
149, 154, 249–254 129–130; and race, 112, 114, 126 (see also
Cooper Union College, 201 Racism); and religion, 128–129; and romance,
Cox, Ada Beal, 245 124–125; and sterilization, 130; and war, 129;
Index 333
Laughlin, Harry H., 254–257 Mabel Hodgkins, 36–39, 41–42, 61, 63–64,
League for the Larger Life, 154, 168 259; mining and real estate interests, 34–35,
League of Nations, 244 279 (n. 55)
Leaves of Grass, 102–103, 156, 235 McCoy, Mabel, 36–42, 47–57, 60–73, 230–231;
Leighton, George, 67 acting career, 40–41; as faith healer, 51–53; as
Lincoln, Nebraska, 91, 96, 233 preacher, 67; as Tufts student, 66–67; business
Liverpool, England, 22 ventures, 39, 50–56, 62, 279 (n. 55); divorce
Lockwood Academy, 127 from James McCoy, 61, 63–64; embrace of
Lomaland, 247 Christian Science, 47–48; falling out with
London Eugenic Society, 117 Viola, 60; life in Tombstone, 37–39; marriage
London, England, 115, 117–121, 180 problems, 41–42, 49–50, 53–54, 63–64, 259;
Lord, Frances, 232 mental and physical decline, 42, 49–50, 60–61;
Lusitania, sinking of, 137 on suffrage, 70–71; religious awakening, 47–49,
64–65; rift with Emma Hopkins, 230–231;
MacCoy, James. See McCoy, James with Mary Plunkett, 50–53, 57–60
MacCoy, Rev. Mabel L., 73–90, 86 (ill.); as McCoy, Perle Creighton, 30, 229, 271 (n. 11)
Eddy’s rival, 86; as lecturer, 69–71; as preacher, McCoy, William, 64, 230 (ill.), 272 (n. 15)
68–69, 78, 81–83; as temperance advocate, 73; McLane, Mary, 233–234
in W.C.T.U., 73; influence of James McCoy, Meadville Theological School, 65
68, 72, 87–88; marriage to Francis Irwin, 89; Medical Review of Reviews, 250–251
Massachusetts Prohibition Party, 73, 76–77; Melbourne, Australia, 180, 193–194
nervous breakdown, 78, 81; on child rearing, Mental Science University (Mental Science
87, 89; on death penalty, 88–89; on mar- College), 49–50
riage, 71–72; on racial superiority, 88 (see also Meriden Literary Recorder, 9–10
Racism); on suffrage, 77, 88–89; ordination Methodist Free Church, 184–185
of, 73–76; recovery in Jackson Sanatorium, 81; Metuchen, New Jersey, 242
religious epiphany, 83–85 Miles, Mrs. Carl A., 252
Manhattan Liberal Club, 105 Mind–cure, 46–54, 60–61, 65, 68, 81, 98, 169,
Mansfield News, 68, 72, 74, 78, 81–83, 100, 172 181–183, 231
Mansfield, Massachusetts, 67–69, 73–76, 78, Moliere Thermo–Electric Bath, 79–80
81–83 Montreal, Canada, 12, 26–27, 179–180, 214
Marlborough, Massachusetts, 97 Moore, Edward Everett, 109–110, 120, 239–240,
Massachusetts Metaphysical College, 47–48 290 (n. 30)
Massachusetts Prohibition Party, 73, 76–77 Moore, Mabel MacCoy Irwin, 109. See also Irwin,
McCoy, Alexander W., 229, 230 (ill) Mabel MacCoy
McCoy, Clinton Viles, 229 Mt. Pleasant Cemetery, 172
McCoy, James, 27–42, 50, 53–54, 60–61, 63–64, Murray Wagon Company, 13. See also Boston
219–229, 259; arrest of, 226; as minister, 29– Buckboard Company
31; business ventures, 63, 220–221, 225; death Murray, Chauncey, 12
of, 229; death of daughter, 30–31; develop- Murray, Isadore, 12–13, 26, 210–211
ment of pneumatic tool, 39–40, 63, 221–223; Murray, Rev. W. John, 168
divorce from Emma Sloan, 31, 33, 37, 61, Murray, William Henry Harrison, 6–23, 10 (ill.),
272 (n. 15); early life, 28–29; end of ministry, 71–72, 209–219, 259, 266 (n. 21), 314 (n.
31; health issues, 30–31; Huachuca Water 57); and adultery, 13, 20–21, 314 (n. 57); as
Company, 32–35, 38–39; in Arizona, 32–39; in lecturer, 210, 213–215; as orator, 7; association
Civil War, 28–29; insurance salesman, 30–32; with Lilla M. Hodgkins, 11–18, 22–23, 25;
lawsuits involving, 223–228; legacy of, 229; business ventures, 11, 13–16, 19, 27, 212–213,
marriage problems, 41–42, 50, 53–54, 63–64; 215; camping in Adirondacks, 9; death of,
marriage to Emma Sloan, 30–32; marriage to 218; divorce from Isadore, 216–217; early life,
336 Index
6–8; family life as a father, 215–218; fleeing Parsons, Rose. See Hodgkins, Rose
United States, 22; gossip surrounding, 17–20, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 35–36, 208
23, 26–27; in Connecticut, 6–7, 8–12, 15–16, Phillips, James, 13
217–218; in Montreal, Canada, 214–215; in Place, Mrs. Martha, 88
San Francisco, California, 19–21; in Texas, Platt, Oliver, 17
210–213; influence on Lilla, 22–23; legacy of, Plunkett–Worthington, Mrs. Mary. See Plunkett,
218–219; marriage to Frances Rivers, 216–217; Mary (Hodgkins)
marriage to Isadore Hull, 8; ministry of, 8–11; Plunkett, John Jacob Thomas, 43–46, 55–59, 59
physical description of, 214–215; publications (ill.), 176–178, 186, 276 (n. 37); as faith healer,
by, 9, 11, 13–14, 210, 217–218; relationship 55–56, 177–178; business ventures, 45, 55–56,
with Fannie Bursley, 19–21, 26–27, 209–219; 177; divorce from Mary Plunkett, 57–58, 175–
travels with Lilla, 12–16 177; marriage to Irene Cenquita, 177–178;
Music Hall (Boston), 11, 210 marriage to Mary Hodgkins, 43, 56–58
Mussolini, Benito, 245 Plunkett, Mary (Hodgkins), 36, 42–47, 49–53,
55–60, 59 (ill.), 72, 82, 85, 89, 115, 179–188,
National Birth Control League, 149 191–193, 192 (ill.), 201, 204, 277 (n. 45);
National Purity Association, 98 as faith healer, 51–53, 55–56, 191; as music
Nazi Germany, 257–258 teacher, 43–44; business ventures, 50–51, 53,
Negative eugenics, 118, 121 55–56, 179–187; death of, 115, 191–192;
New England Church, 11 defense of Worthington, 179–180; divorce from
New England Labor Reform League, 44–45 A. Bentley Worthington, 187–188; divorce
New Haven, Connecticut, 14, 201, 216 from John Plunkett, 57–58, 175; early life, 42;
New Mausoleum Company, 219, 220–221, 315 embrace of Christian Science, 46–47; fleeing
(n. 65) New Zealand, 187–188, 191; fleeing United
New Thought, 154, 168, 231–232 States, 59–60, 179–180; legacy of, 198–199;
New York City, 16–17, 20, 25, 27, 32–33, 35–38, marriage problems, 46, 56–57, 188; marriage
40, 50, 53, 55–56, 63, 83, 86, 89–91, 93, 96, to John Atkinson, 192; Order of the Temple,
98–101, 106, 108, 113, 115, 121–122, 125, 183–184, 187; physical description of, 191; rift
138, 145, 148, 154, 157, 165, 168, 172, 178, with Emma Hopkins, 230–231; social reformer,
180, 206, 213, 231–232 44–45; with A. Bentley Worthington, 56–60,
New York City Department of Education, 157 179–188; with Lilla Mabel Hodgkins/Mabel
New York Society of Sanitary and Moral Prophy- McCoy, 20–21, 50–53, 57–60; with Moses
laxis, 133, 142. See also American Society of Field, 46, 49, 58, 191, 277 (n. 40); work with
Sanitary and Moral Prophylaxis women, 45–46
New York Times, 17–18, 85, 99, 154 Plunkett, Paul, 176, 178, 180, 188, 191–192
New Zealand, 115, 170, 179–193, 199 Plunkett, Pearl (Perl), 170, 176, 178, 182, 188,
New Zealand School of Mental Science, 191 192, 303 (n. 1)
Newburyport, Massachusetts, 43–44 Pneumatic drill, development of, 39–40
Newport News, Virginia, 197 Positive eugenics, 118, 121
Niagara Falls, New York, 26 Potsdam, Germany, 136–137
Poughkeepsie, New York, 195
Odd Fellows Hall, 182–183, 190 Price, Alice W., 225–227
Oklahoma Leader, 158–164 Princeton Theological Seminary, 29
Old Soldier’s Home, 197 Princeton University, 28
Order of the Temple, 183–184, 186 Prinkipo Conference, 244–245
Prohibition Party. See Massachusetts Prohibition
Park Street Congregational Church, 10, 21 Party
Parsons, Forrest W., 97 (ill.), 209, 263 (n. 2) Public Education Association, 121
Index 337
Racism, 88, 104–105, 112, 123, 159, 237 Suffrage, 70–71, 77, 88–89, 120–123, 125–126,
Rand School of Social Science, 243 164, 260; movement in America, 125–126,
Rand, Carrie, 99, 240, 242 164, 260; movement in England, 120–123
Religion in schools, 237–238 Swarts, Andrew J., 46–47, 49–50
Religious Science, 232 Sydney, Australia, 194–195, 198
Reno, Nevada, 140
Riggs, Luther, 9 Temperance movement, 4, 23, 45, 73, 164,
Right of the Child to be Well Born, The, 98, 103, 203–204, 237, 282–283 (n. 18), 285 (n. 38)
111–112 Temple of Truth, 183, 185 (ill.), 188–189, 191,
Rivers, Frances, 215–218 199
Roberts, James, 228 Texas Hardwood Lumber Company, 212
Rossmore, Mabel, 35–36. See also Hodgkins, The Hague, Netherlands, 133–134
Mabel L. Tillinghast, James, 67
Tingley Theosophist Colony, 247–248
Sacramento, California, 30–31 Tombstone, Arizona, 32–39, 34 (ill.)
San Antonio, Texas, 210–212 Townsend, John Gillis, 148
San Francisco, California, 14, 16, 18–21, 23, 26, Triggs Magazine, 106, 240
37, 39, 52–53, 177–178 Triggs, Oscar Lovell, 106–107, 240, 245–248
Sandusky, Ohio, 30–31 Tufts College, 65–66, 73, 259
Sercombe, Parker, 106 Tufts Divinity School, 66
Sex education, 111, 115, 122, 138, 146, 249–251 Twilight Sleep, 131–132
Sex Side of Life, an explanation for young people,
The, 249–251 Unitarianism, 65
Sexology, 184, 305 (n. 8) United Bond & Mortgage Company, 178
Sharpie Yacht Club of Burlington (VT), 217 Unity (religion), 232
Showalter, Jennie, 196–198 Unity Congregational Church, 171
Single–tax scheme, 107 Unity Publishing Company, 55
Sister Magdala, 191–192 Unity Society of Practical Christianity, 171, 302
Sloan, Emma A., 30–31, 64, 229 (n. 42)
Small, Alethea, 51–52 Universalism, 65, 68, 74, 98
Smith, Samuel, 119 Universalist Missionary Society, 69
Snow Shoe Café, 214–215 University of Chicago, 106, 255
Social hygiene, 146. See also Eugenics University of Heidelberg, 257
Socialism, 240–245 University of London, 117
Socialist Party of America, 241 University of Minnesota, 119
Society for the Study of Life, 86, 94 USS Juliet, 29
Society of Inner Truth, 143 USS Louisville, 29, 30 (ill.)
South Framingham, Massachusetts, 83
Sprauge, Mrs. Harriet, 166 Vienna, Maine, 1
Springer, Warren, 247
Stahlberg, Charles, 223–224, 316 (n. 70) Ward, General A. B., 179. See also Worthington,
Standard Time Stamp Company, 224, 227 A. Bentley
Station for the Experimental Study of Evolution, Washington, D.C., 229
255 White Slavery, 124
Students of Truth, 183–189, 193–194, 305 (n. Whitman, the Poet–Liberator of Women, 102–103,
11); adultery within, 305 (n. 11); celibacy with- 105–106, 235, 261
in, 184–185; debt issues, 188–189; investiga- Whitman, Walt, 102–107, 115, 155–157,
tion into, 184–187; marriage issues, 184–185; 165–171, 240, 261, 323 (n. 125)
split within, 189 Who’s Obscene?, 253
338 Index
Yale University, 7, 16