Catharine “Caty” Littlefield Greene Miller Part 2: The Cotton Gin
Episode Intro: You’re listening to Part 2 of Catharine “Caty” Littlefield Greene Miller. We will have a short recap, but please stop and listen to Part 1 if you haven’t already.
Let’s get cracklin’, shall we?
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Photos of Catharine and others close to her in the story can be found at https://www.pinterest.com/TalesfromtheHearth/catharine-littlefield-greene-miller/
Sources for today’s story are: Many…refer to our episode show notes for citations and links. A major source for the information is Caty: A Biography of Catharine Littlefield Greene by John F. Stegeman and Janet A. Stegeman, published in 1977 and 1985.
Other sources include Washington: A Life by Ron Chernow; Founding Mothers: The Women Who Raised Our Nation by Cokie Roberts; and the website for the Nathanael Greene Homestead of Spell Hall, located in Coventry, Rhode Island.
The ONE Takeaway I hope you get from today’s story is: You can’t please everyone and control their assumptions of you, so don’t even try.
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Let’s recap our story: Catharine “Caty” Littlefield Greene Miller was born and raised in Rhode Island, where she married Major General and Revolutionary War hero, Nathanael Greene. Caty spends much of their early married life dividing her time between raising their five children and serving as a camp wife on the move with Nathanael and his troops during the war. She’s known as quite the vivacious and uplifting camp wife, enchanting and fusing lifelong friendships with many along the way. Some refer to her as too silly, flirtatious, or as an outright adulterer. During the war, Nathanael takes on personal debt in order to clothe the Continental Army, but does not receive reimbursement from the new impoverished nation. Heavily in debt, the family of seven is forced to move from Rhode Island to Mulberry Grove Plantation near Savannah, Georgia. After a lengthy walk on a hot day, Nathanael is afflicted with what was probably heatstroke and succumbs to his illness at the age of 44, leaving Caty widowed with five children to care for at the young age of 32.
Let’s do a short review of the cast of major characters, shall we?
- Jeremiah Wadsworth: Army colonel, Greene family creditor, married, but rumored adulterer with Caty
- Brigadier General “Mad” Anthony Wayne: Married, but still a notable ladies’ man who “cut a rug” with Caty in Charleston; now a new neighbor in Georgia
- Nat Pendleton: Married, but liked Caty; tattled on her for drinking too much wine to her husband; now a new neighbor in Georgia
- Phineas Miller: Single, 22-year-old tutor to the Greene children in Georgia
- George Washington: Family friend, Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Army and First President of the United States
- Martha Washington: Family friend, wife of George Washington
- George Washington Greene: Son and first child of Caty and Nathanael Greene; born Winter 1776
- Martha “Patty” Washington Greene: Daughter and second child; born in March 1777
- Cornelia Lott Greene: Daughter and third child; born 1778
- Nathanael Ray Greene: Son and fourth child; born January 1780
- Louisa Catharine Greene: Daughter and fifth child; born in 1784. Last child to survive past infancy.
- Alexander Hamilton: Married; ladies’ man, family friend, and the first Secretary of the U.S. Treasury
- The Marquis de Lafayette: Married; family friend and Greene family creditor
- Dr. Lemeul Kollock: Family physician and friend in Georgia
Let’s get back to our story, shall we?
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Life became incredibly difficult for Caty and family after Nathanael’s death, as they found that Nathanael had not even begun to pay back debts he had incurred on behalf of the Continental army. There was no government reimbursement and no relief forthcoming for the widow. The lands and estates could not be sold for enough to even begin to chip away at all the debts. Slaves and household belongings were sold, and anything else that could raise funds or be done without was sold to provide for the family. Caty determined that her only path forward was to petition the new U.S. Congress for reimbursement of the military-associated debts to settle Nathanael’s estate.
Now-U.S. Congressman Jeremiah Wadsworth (remember him with all the adultery rumors with Caty? AND then he loaned Nathanael Greene a boatload of money) assisted Katy with her appeal to Congress, but dissuaded her from appearing herself due to talk and gossip around her position as a poor widow. You see, Jeremiah and Caty had begun a romantic relationship, even though Wadsworth was a married man. It was unclear from the sources whether the relationship was only by correspondence or had become physical, but nevertheless…(dot dot dot) scandalous!
Wadsworth provided funds and support for Caty’s children’s education, but was jealous of her closeness to Phineas Miller—even accusing them of an improper relationship prior to Nathanael’s death!
Alas, the turbulent and sordid relationship came to an end when Caty received a letter from Wadsworth stating he would burn all of her letters because his wife had questioned their relationship.
Another relationship was cooling as well was with Mulberry Grove neighbor Anthony Wayne. By 1790, Caty had tired of his womanizing ways and had not even bid him goodbye when departing again to New York to attend to her congressional petition.
To prevent any confusion—as Caty’s romantic liaisons become more convoluted—let’s review a few pertinent characters again, shall we?
- Jeremiah Wadsworth: Greene family creditor; paid Caty’s bills; married, but with a confirmed relationship with the widow
- Brigadier General “Mad” Anthony Wayne: Married, but notable ladies’ man and Caty’s overly concerned neighbor and close companion
- Nat Pendleton: No longer tattling on her for drinking too much wine; married, but another overly concerned neighbor and close companion
- Phineas Miller: Single, tutor to the Greene children, business manager and confidante for Caty
- Other men, presumably single
And now on with our story…
Caty began receiving numerous visits, soft inquiries, and outright marriage proposals because she was seen as a well-connected and wealthy widow, as well as the mistress of a booming plantation.
Caty refused them all and restrained her romantic behavior, as she was now working on her public image as a “poor war widow” to drum up support for her monetary reprieve from Congress. She made many trips between New York and Mulberry Grove, ensuring that both her plantations continued to generate income, all while her petition stayed attentive and fresh with the new government. In New York she stayed with none other than the new President Washington and his family. She was reacquainted with many old friends, such as Henry Knox and Alexander Hamilton, who both gave Caty every help they could with her petition.
I say she restrained her romantic behavior during this time—but there was, in fact, some juicy canoodling going on. But patience as we continue the story…
Caty was a delightful houseguest at the Washingtons, known for her brilliant conversation and war camp stories that kept everyone laughing. One famous story of Nathanael’s she liked to tell involved the late General Greene and former South Carolina Governor John Rutledge (whom they lived with in Charleston):
The story goes like this…
Nathanael, John Rutledge, and the army were involved in a skirmish in North Carolina when they suffered a defeat. The tired and weary governor, general, and officers took shelter in a small house—so small that the governor and the general had to share a bed. After about an hour, the general couldn’t sleep due to the governor’s endless kicking. “Please stop kicking!” he implored the governor.
The governor was astounded, replying, “What? You’ve been kicking me!” After a sleepy back and forth exchange, the two men discovered the true culprit of the kicking between them in the bed: a pig! Well, don’t you think it only fitting that an ousted politician and a defeated general deserve such a filthy bedfellow?!
Haha! She both wrote and told the popular story far and wide.
In May 1791 President and friend George Washington visited Caty at the Mulberry Grove plantation while on a lengthy tour of the Southern states. By December 1791, the government capital had been transferred to Philadelphia, and Caty traveled yet again to petition her case before the Treasury Department. Alexander Hamilton readily approved, and it was sent to the House. Within the House, Anthony Wayne, now a Georgia Representative, took up Caty’s cause and battled against Thomas Sumter from South Carolina for approval.
Anthony Wayne’s support was short-lived, because it was determined that Wayne had been fraudulently elected and was removed from his position in Congress. Caty spent the next month worrying about a new champion, but alas—it was passed by the House and Senate, and signed by President Washington in April. It would appear that Caty and family would now experience financial comfort.
By now Caty had become well known thanks to her war widow status, and much of her correspondence was stolen. This is perhaps fortunate for us today, because most of Caty’s letters, including all of those to Nathanael Greene, had been destroyed. Many believe Caty herself burned them all due to self-consciousness of poor grammar and spelling (remember when Nathanael criticized her spelling and sent her a grammar book to study?).
It was a tough trial, and Caty felt entirely vindicated in her win as she relayed to cozy friend and neighbor Nat Pendleton, “I am in good health and spirits…not only because I am independent, but because I have gained a compleet tryumph over some of my friends who did not wish me success—and others who doubted my judgement in managing the business—and constantly tormented me to death to give up my obstinacy as it was called—they are now mute as mice—Not a word dare they utter…O how sweet is revenge!”
Ah, but back to the juicy parts…you all knew that Caty wouldn’t stay single for long. During this time and over the previous year she fell in love…hard. Who was the lucky man?
Let’s review the cast of characters again, shall we? (and you can take your own vote)
- Jeremiah Wadsworth: Greene family creditor; ended his relationship with Caty and no longer in the story.
- Brigadier General “Mad” Anthony Wayne: Married; notable ladies’ man, neighbor, and disgraced politician
- Alexander Hamilton: Married; ladies’ man; and writing her checks on the U.S. treasury
- Nat Pendleton: Married; neighbor, lawyer and close companion whom she wrote to in victory about her claim
- Phineas Miller: Single, tutor to the Greene children, now business manager and confidante for Caty.
- President George Washington: Married; visiting at Mulberry Grove?
- Others? Caty was now a rich, rich, rich woman after the settlement
Any guess who the lucky man was? The lucky winner was…dark horse—but single man—Phineas Miller. Caty’s trusted advisor since before—and most definitely after—Nathanael’s death. Ten years younger than Caty.
Remember when I said there was some major canoodling going on? The year before Caty’s indemnification appeal was approved, Caty and Phineas had drawn up a legal agreement concerning their relationship and prospective marriage. This stated that Phineas would not be entitled to any property from the Greene estate. They had not married due to Caty’s claim to Congress, which hinged upon her appearance as the respectful—and therefore, unattached—widow of a fallen war hero. Sneaky, sneaky! There were other reasons, too, for their delay in marriage. Caty seemed to appreciate the freedom that widowhood had afforded her, with the ability to manage business and property, make legal claims, and maintain ownership of her money. Marriage to Phineas would mean the transfer of power over all of these things to him as a husband.
This relationship was very hush-hush, yet not secret—and certainly not approved of. They were technically living together and were unmarried! Very scandalous at the time!
In the fall of 1792 Caty and Phineas were asked to inquire for a tutor on behalf of Mulberry Grove neighbors. Miller used his connections at Yale to obtain a recommendation—a 27-year-old Eli Whitney. Whitney traveled with the Greene-Miller party from New York to Mulberry Grove, where he was to stay a few days prior to continuing to his tutoring position at a neighboring plantation.
He would never travel to the neighboring plantation, nor fill his tutoring role.
It is widely believed that he hated the idea of teaching, and was persuaded by Caty to stay on at Mulberry Grove. She was impressed by his ingenuity in creating things useful around the plantation. He was likewise impressed by her support and the attention of a smart and beautiful woman.
So the plot thickens…there legal agreements with Phineas Miller, but not a legal marriage to him. A young inventive mind appears on the scene at Mulberry Grove. Don’t forget that both Nat Pendleton and Anthony Wayne are lurking nearby, too—both married. I think this should be a soap opera—”Get into the Grove” or “Mulberry Moves” something like that sound good to you all?
It wasn’t long before Eli Whitney spoke with many of the neighboring plantation owners and saw the problem and difficulty ginning the local cotton, which was too short to efficiently separate the seeds. Whitney drew up his first model for the cotton gin and worked with Phineas Miller on his ideas, obtaining 100% funding and support from Caty. An entire room in Mulberry Grove was converted into a laboratory for the undertaking—one that only Caty, Phineas, and Eli had access to.
Eli Whitney created his first prototypes of the cotton gin from materials around Mulberry Grove, including some wire found in the parlor.
In a recollection written in the 1832 volume of The Southern Agriculturalist by William Scarbrough, but borrowed from a story told by Greene-Miller family doctor and friend Dr. Lemuel Kollock, the tale of Catharine Greene’s HUGE contribution to the cotton gin was told. Scarbrough, a Savannah merchant and shipowner known for his ownership of the SS Savannah (which in 1819 became the first steamship in the world to cross the Atlantic Ocean), was not present himself to witness this event, but recalls this from a conversation with Dr. Kollock, who had passed away nine years previously in 1823:
One evening at Mulberry Grove, Whitney, Miller, Caty, and Nat and Susan Pendleton were in attendance when Whitney noted one last frustration with the cotton gin device, which was that the cotton fibers continued to cling to the metal teeth, clogging the machine. Whitney brought down the machine for a demonstration, to which Caty had a solution: “What! Allow such a trifle as that worry you? Trust to a woman’s wit for the cure, and turn the cylinder.” Caty took a nearby fireplace brush and rolled it along the cylinder for cleaning. “Thank you for the hint; I have it now,” Whitney replied to her.
The brush solution was applied to remedy the clogging problem, and a full scale cotton gin was created. The rest is—literally—history.
This one gin could be operated by a single man and horse, but now did the same work in the same time it had previously taken approximately 50 men.
The South would never be the same again. Cotton gin fever swept the area, and visitors flocked to the plantation, many hurrying to plant cotton upon the hope of such a solution. This increased the import of slaves to Southern plantations to tend cotton, which led to the division of slavery and industrialization vs. farming between the Northern and Southern states, which led to the Civil War in 1861.
This was early 1793.
Caty fully funded the advent of the cotton gin.
So did Catharine “Caty” Littlefield Greene actually create the cotton gin? Was her contribution of the cleaning brush component large enough to have been recognized on the patent?
Yes…well…sort of.
Yes, according to patent experts, her suggestion of the cleaning brush component as told in the 1832 recollection would be sufficient to support a claim for a co-patent. But even if the story had been substantiated at the time, it would still be implausible that a woman would be successful in obtaining such recognition; Mary Dixon Kies wouldn’t achieve this for her hat making method until 1809.
However, the tale is a recollection 39 years later from the memory of what a friend told a friend who might not have actually been there to actually witness the event.
It seems that the mystery will remain a mystery unless further documented evidence is found of Caty’s involvement. There have been other claims about the development of the cotton gin, including that Mulberry Grove slaves and other neighbors made substantial contributions as well. This would eventually play into the demise of the Whitney cotton gin.
Let’s continue, shall we?
By Spring 1793 all five children had returned to Mulberry Grove, which buzzed with the promise of cotton industrialization. Cornelia had returned from her stay with President George and Martha Washington, while the eldest, George Washington Greene, had returned from France from his education with the Marquis de Lafayette’s son. Caty was happy to once again be reunited with her children.
But keep in mind, she and Phineas have a relationship but are still not married.
The happiness wouldn’t last.
Just a few weeks later, George Washington Greene—the oldest—was tragically drowned in an accident while traversing the nearby Savannah River with a friend.
Caty was heartbroken by George’s death, and was never the same again.
In Summer 1793, Eli Whitney sailed for New Haven to establish a shop for manufacturing the cotton gin. He stopped in Philadelphia on the way to apply for a patent through Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson. Phineas Miller and Eli Whitney established the firm of Miller and Whitney after Miller (through Caty’s funding) paid Whitney the $1,000 for half interest in the patent. Although Caty was the sole funder of the enterprise, she was not recognized in the legal papers—per her request, presumably out of respect and love for Phineas—and because of her legal agreement with him.
And so 1794 continued with the promise of the cotton gin, and business was booming. Daughter and second child Martha Washington “Patty” Greene, 17, married industrialist John Nightingale in 1795. Things seemed to be going well…
Until spring 1795, when the cotton gin factory in New Haven was burned to a complete loss. Although Caty was upset, Miller remained calm and replied to Whitney via mail to invigorate him with the hope of rebuilding. This worked—where Whitney had created only 20 gins in two years, he rebuilt the factory and created 26 gins only seven months after the devastating fire!
During this time, the Miller and Whitney firm needed to raise more capital for the production of more gins. Both Phineas Miller and Caty were lured in by the promise of quick dividends to partake in a land investment in Georgia through the “Yazoo” Company.
The “Yazoo” Company should have been safe—another prime investor was Caty’s new son-in-law, John Nightingale, along with neighbor, family friend, and lawyer, Nat Pendleton (remember him? Tattled on Caty’s wine drinking and had a crush on her?). The premise of the Yazoo deal was to buy cheap land from the Georgia legislature, and then turn around and sell it at a much steeper rate to the slew of cotton planters expected to descend upon the land after the cotton gin became available. Eli Whitney opposed the Yazoo investment, but Phineas and Caty invested—HEAVILY.
When terms of the political land deal and sale to Yazoo became known, public outcry ensued. Georgia legislature members had been bribed to enact the deal, which was now known as the “Great Yazoo Fraud.” The Yazoo Act was voided in 1796, and the fraudulent scheme destroyed Caty’s financial position, as she was forced to sell land at a fraction of its value. The scandal spread to the firm of Miller and Whitney, who experienced pirating of the cotton gin (despite the patent) and loss of contracts.
It was during this unfortunate time that the unmarried state of Miller and Caty caused further scandal and public outcry. On May 31, 1796, Phineas and Caty were married in Philadelphia in the company of the Washingtons and a few friends. Although Phineas was ten years younger than Caty, they found quite the happy match.
When they wrote Eli Whitney to relay the happy news, they encountered…SILENCE. Business partner and friend Eli Whitney was deeply wounded and didn’t respond for several months. He had grown to greatly respect and love Caty for her intellect and full emotional support as a partner. It is rumored that Eli Whitney never recovered from losing Caty to Phineas, and only chose to marry and start a family after Caty’s death.
Do you think Eli Whitney will stay out of the picture? Absolutely no way. He and his romantic leanings will come back later in the story—and in a “truth is stranger than fiction” sort of way.
It was also in this time in December 1796 Anthony Wayne passed away while serving as commander of the U.S. Army.
In May 1797 the firm of Miller and Whitney lost a patent suit brought up against a gin manufacturer, beginning a slew of similar legal losses and leading to the dissolution of the firm. Whitney moved on to find success producing firearms for the federal government.
The Millers’ financial condition could not be improved, however, and by 1800 they were forced to move to Cumberland Island, Georgia, their beloved Mulberry Grove auctioned off to pay for back taxes. 1800 was a difficult year for Caty, as she endured the loss of her home and the death of her beloved friend, George Washington.
Life was difficult on Cumberland Island, Georgia, where they were once again forced to sell what they could, including timber, for cash; they also had to use the timber to build their new home. It was at this time that Eli Whitney reappeared in their lives, sending a letter inquiring about the romantic availability of daughter Cornelia, now 22. However, this did not work out—as you can imagine—as things and feelings got complicated with the love triangle between the inventor, mother, and daughter.
In 1802 the South Carolina state legislature purchased the cotton gin patent from Whitney for $50,000, infusing the Greene-Miller family with some much-needed cash resources.
In 1803 the beloved Dungeness mansion on Cumberland Island was complete. The large home housed many family members, and hosted anyone and everyone who passed by the vicinity. The gardens and game were plentiful, and the family thrived with trade in its local timber, called “Cumberland oak.” In fact, it was Caty’s very own “Cumberland Oak” that was used in the overhauled hull of the U.S.S. Constitution, nicknamed “Old Ironsides,” which is still in service today.
Happiness was not to last for Caty and family, as on December 7, 1803, her beloved Phineas passed away from blood poisoning at the age of 39.
Tragedy struck yet again upon the death of her longtime friend Alexander Hamilton, killed by Aaron Burr. Friend Nat Pendleton (do you remember him as the wine tattler and neighbor with the crush on her?) had been Hamilton’s second in the duel. Caty was incredibly flabbergasted later that year when she received a letter from Aaron Burr asking if he could meet a friend at her Dungeness home. Burr was on the run from authorities at the time, but Caty agreed to his request. She refused to greet him at Dungeness, instead moving her family inland for a few days specifically to avoid him. I was hoping that she would have turned him in, but I guess she did what she could to snub him at the time?
After Phineas’s death, finances became even more convoluted for Caty, as multiple appeals for debts against both the Greene and Miller estates were requested and transferred to the courts and mediation. Most of these appeals came from trusted friends and family, so it was quite a strain for the twice-widowed Caty.
At this time—you’ll never guess who appeared again—Eli Whitney. Eli Whitney re-entered her life—in another painfully awkward way. He began a courtship of Caty’s now-widowed 24-year-old Louisa, but, of course, it fell apart when—once again—it became apparent that he really longed for Caty when he addressed his correspondence to Caty instead of Louisa (whom he was supposedly courting).
Oh, Eli…
In 1810 Caty saw her beloved Cumberland Island occupied by U.S. marines and state militia in response to increased tensions with Great Britain. When war was declared in the summer of 1812, Caty refused to leave her home even though the threat of military engagement nearby was high.
Caty was now ordered to pay $60,000 in Spring 1812 on the Miller estate, but she had nothing but land and slaves to sell. She was encouraged to file a lawsuit against Eli Whitney to settle these accounts. However, in 1814 Congress passed a bill for $8 million dollars in relief for Yazoo investors who had been duped 20 years previously, allowing Caty’s issue of finances to finally? settle. Not quite—there would be claims until 1840—well past Caty’s death.
During this time, Caty had become estranged from her daughters Cornelia and Patty as a result of years of squabbling amongst the remaining four children in regard to inheritance. She even caught Cornelia and her husband attempting to steal her slaves and property! Caty rewrote her will, leaving only a few dollars each to Cornelia and Patty, while showing generosity to Nat, Louisa, and her dear friend, Dr. Lemeul Kollock (remember him? He’s the one who told of Caty’s contribution to the cotton gin to William Scarbrough, who wrote it down in 1832).
How very sad. Although Caty’s children remembered her as a stern yet fair disciplinarian and attentive mother growing up, it would appear that Caty wouldn’t reconcile with her daughters, or two out of her remaining four children in her lifetime.
In August 1814 Caty became ill with a summer fever from which she would never recover. She passed away in her sleep on September 2, 1814, at the age of sixty, surrounded by Dr. Kollock and children Nat and Louisa. She was buried alongside her second husband, Phineas Miller, in the gardens at Dungeness, where you can still visit her grave today.
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So what do you think of the story of Catharine “Caty” Littlefield Greene Miller? Was she the whimsical, silly little flirt and maybe adulteress that some tales in history make her out to be? Did she “abandon” her children to partake in the revelry of the Revolutionary War camps?
Was she the rightful co-patent claimee of Eli Whitney’s famed cotton gin?
I believe Caty Greene Miller to be a remarkable, strong woman who was challenged by boundaries of “acceptable” womanly behavior back then. During the Revolutionary War, she traveled tirelessly, alternating between taking care of her children and spending time with her husband in the camps. She served as a vivacious, outgoing “camp wife” and hostess who made lifelong friends easily. She lightened the moods of the dismal war camps and forged deep bonds with others, especially men, when faced with challenges of mortality during wartime.
In a short span of time after the war, she became impoverished and had to relocate away from her home and community in the North—all the way down to the South. She lost two children shortly after their births and suffered from depression, and then lost her young husband to a sudden illness. Still in an impoverished and indebted state, she was forced to care for an entire plantation and family of five children as a young widow at age 32. It wasn’t easy for her.
She rose up from the difficulties and traveled back and forth between taking care of her plantation, her children, and to the U.S. Congress to obtain relief for the Greene estate to escape poverty and ruination. With her new funds, she supported and financed Eli Whitney’s cotton gin, which she may have passed on becoming a co-inventor for. She lost another fortune through a fraudulent land deal, and was forced to move from her home and built another after being unable to pay taxes. She would struggle with finances and making ends meet throughout the rest of her life.
She made a few poor choices along the way, including toeing the line of what was considered to be proper boundaries with male friends at that time. After her husband’s death, she also engaged in a relationship with a married man who infused much-needed cash to provide for her and educate her young children. She later lived with and had a relationship with a younger man (who would later become her husband) while unmarried. She bought, owned, and sold slaves on her plantations. At her death, she was estranged from two of her four remaining children.
Overall, I think Caty was a remarkably strong woman who rose above the difficulties dealt to her in life in a challenging time in U.S. history. I hope you enjoyed the life and story of Caty, Catharine Littlefield Greene Miller.