Between 1740 and the American Revolution, an estimated 90 women kept millinery shops in Boston. They sold the latest European fashion in gowns, cloaks and caps along with a serving of local gossip. Boston’s she-merchants sold other items as well. A 1767 ad in the Boston Gazette lists over 40 women selling imports like tea, china and soap.
That’s a lot of she-merchants, given that Boston had a population of about 15,600 at the time.
Three of them lie in King’s Chapel Burying Ground, across from City Hall in Boston. Ann Dearden (1711-1771) learned her trade as a servant to shopkeeper Sarah McNeal, who left her her estate. Alice Quick (1687-1761) inherited her husband’s dry goods business and died a wealthy woman. Sarah Todd (d. 1777) was a shopkeeper with Mary Purcell, her partner. When she died she left everything to Mary.
The stories of Boston’s she-merchants belie the perception that 18th-century women all stayed at home under the firm thumb of a husband, father or some other male. They also show that she-merchants formed a network that taught them their trade, provided credit and offered mutual support.
In colonial New England, married woman could not legally transact business on their own. But many figured out how to get around the era’s restrictions. When John Adams was away, Abigail bought and sold imported goods, speculated in Vermont land and traded in government securities, under the cover of her male relatives. (She was ahead of her time: Shortly after the Revolutionary War, Massachusetts enacted a feme sole trader law, which allowed married women abandoned by their husbands to transact business.)
A single woman or widow, on the other hand, could act legally on her own behalf. Colonial law often gave widows control of their late husbands’ businesses—taverns, rental property, printing presses or shops.
Such was the case with Katherine Nanny alias Naylor.
She-Merchant Katherine Nanny Alias Naylor
Katherine Nanny Alias Naylor resurfaced in Boston after archaeologists dug up her privy prior to the Big Dig. The wealth of artifacts found—a silk sleeve, pipe stems, crockery—sparked interest in her life story.
Katherine, the daughter of the Rev. John Wheelwright, married Robert Nanny, a prosperous merchant. They had eight children, but only two lived to adulthood.
When a widow remarried, her wealth would often go to the second husband, as Martha Washington’s did when she married George. But Nanny’s will dictated that his money go to their children, but if they predeceased Katherine she would keep the property.
Her children did die, and she made the colossal mistake of marrying Edward Naylor. An abusive drunk and a philanderer, he impregnated one of the servants who then tried to poison Katherine by putting henbane in her beer.
Katherine divorced Naylor, hence her odd signature “Katherine Nanny Alias Naylor.” He got nothing from her. She then ran her own affairs, extending credit and collecting rents. Her death notice states that she kept a shop selling “the best Teas, and a Great Variety of China, Goods and Merchandize, on the lowest Terms.” Archaeologists also found an extraordinary number of cherry pits in her privy, suggesting she made and sold preserves or an alcoholic beverage called “cherry bounce.”
Those Enterprising Franklin Gals
Benjamin Franklin’s sisters and sisters-in-law were no slouches when it came to entrepreneurship. His youngest (and favorite) sister Jane lost her husband, Edward Mecom, at the age of 53 after marrying him at 15. With no income, she opened a respectable boarding house for lawmakers who stayed when the Massachusetts Assembly met. Then in 1766, she decided to open a millinery shop with her daughters. Jane ordered fabric and millinery books from England.
Jane had terrible timing. The 1767 Townshend Acts levied customs duties on key imports to the colonies. In protest, many Bostonians boycotted imported British goods.
“It Proves a Little unlucky for me that our People have taken it in there Heads to be so Exsesive Frugal at this Time as you will see by the News papers,” she wrote to her brother. Then the Massachusetts Assembly dissolved and Jane had no income from boarders. She ended up closing her shop and moving to Philadelphia. Jane stayed with Ben’s wife, Deborah Read, who ran a stationery shop from her home.
Jane returned to Boston in 1774 and reopened her millinery business. But the Port of Boston closed and she was out of business again. During the Siege of Boston she moved to Rhode Island until Ben came home and moved her to Philadelphia to live with him.
Ben’s sister-in-law, Elizabeth Gooch Franklin, carried on the family’s soap business, the Genuine Crown Soap Company, when her husband John Franklin died. She sold candles and cheese as well as soap from the Boston Post Office. Unscrupulous competitors peddled inferior soap under the same name, mimicking the Franklin packaging. Elizabeth fired back in the press. She warned customers of counterfeiters selling “a sort of soap which they call Crown soap,” which had tarnished the reputation of the genuine article.
Another Franklin She Merchant
Ben Franklin had another sister in-law, Ann Smith Franklin, who continued her husband’s printing business when her husband, James, died. Ann and James had moved to Rhode Island, where in 1732 they launched the Rhode Island Gazette, the colony’s first newspaper. Ann helped James in his print shop, setting type, running the press and selling newspapers, books and almanacs. After he died in 1735 she didn’t make enough money to support her family. So In 1736, she asked the General Assembly of Rhode Island for a contract. She got the job printing election ballots, legal forms, the colony’s charter and Rhode Island’s laws.
The Cuming Sisters
Ame and Elizabeth Cuming, unmarried sisters in their mid-30s, turned to shopkeeping as an honest way to achieve financial independence. Well-educated daughters of the British aristocracy, they had lost their parents and didn’t want to depend on their brother, who lived in Concord, Mass.
They moved to Boston around 1765 and opened shop, putting in an order for £300 of silk, sewing silk and haberdashery from Britain. Like Jane Franklin, they had terrible timing. Local merchants called them out on the front page of the Boston Gazette for refusing to boycott British goods.
The sisters left Boston with other loyalists who evacuated the city in March 1776. In Halifax, Nova Scotia, they started up again and did better than they had in Boston.
Elizabeth Murray, Friend of the She-Merchant
When the Cuming sisters set up shop in Boston, they found an invaluable mentor in Elizabeth Murray, a woman ahead of her time in championing female entrepreneurs. Murray had arrived in America as a 14-year-old Scottish orphan, under the care of her brother. She did some stints in North Carolina and London, where she studied the latest fashions. Then she passed through Boston and liked what she saw. Here was a bustling port city where women managed boardinghouses, taverns and shops. Murray resolved to make it her home.
She built a thriving business selling high-end ladies’ attire, but her legacy extended beyond her own success. Murray actively fostered the next generation of she-merchants, offering financial backing, business advice and even lodging to young women like the Cumings. She supplemented her income by teaching needlework, turning her home into both a classroom and a haven for ambitious women seeking independence.
Married three times, Murray made sure that no husband could claim the wealth she had earned herself. She safeguarded her earnings with prenuptial agreements.
Elizabeth Murray didn’t just survive; she thrived, and she made certain other women could too.