Charity and Sylvia: A Same-Sex Marriage in Early America

by Rachel Hope Cleves

Conventional wisdom holds that same-sex marriage is a purely modern innovation, a concept born of an overtly modern lifestyle that was unheard of in nineteenth century America. But as Rachel Hope Cleves demonstrates in this eye-opening book, same-sex marriage is hardly new. Born in 1777, Charity Bryant was raised in Massachusetts. A brilliant and strong-willed woman with a clear attraction for her own sex, Charity found herself banished from her family home at age twenty. She spent the next decade of her life traveling throughout Massachusetts, working as a teacher, making intimate female friends, and becoming the subject of gossip wherever she lived. At age twenty-nine, still defiantly single, Charity visited friends in Weybridge, Vermont. There she met a pious and studious young woman named Sylvia Drake. The two soon became so inseparable that Charity decided to rent rooms in Weybridge. In 1809, they moved into their own home together, and over the years, came to be recognized, essentially, as a married couple. Revered by their community, Charity and Sylvia operated a tailor shop employing many local women, served as guiding lights within their church, and participated in raising their many nieces and nephews.Charity and Sylvia is the intimate history of their extraordinary forty-four year union. Drawing on an array of original documents including diaries, letters, and poetry, Cleves traces their lives in sharp detail. Providing an illuminating glimpse into a relationship that turns conventional notions of same-sex marriage on their head, and reveals early America to be a place both more diverse and more accommodating than modern society might imagine, Charity and Sylvia is a significant contribution to our limited knowledge of LGBT history in early America.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, LGBT, Queer, Biography, Lesbian, Historical

296 pages, Kindle Edition

First published April 6, 2014

Reviews

[Emily · Rating 3 out of 5]

As someone who reads a lot of fiction both by and about single women in 19th century New England, I was drawn to this, even though the time period covered in the book is the first half of the century, well before the flowering of local color writers like Sarah Orne Jewett and her contemporaries.

I found the account of Charity and Sylvia's entwined lives interesting and well written, but for all that something of a chore to finish. The stitching together of what correspondence survives (almost all of Charity's letters were destroyed), with the parsing of flowery poetical allusions to works long forgotten within the letters, along with business ledgers, dry bits of local and church history, and other scraps of painstakingly assembled minutia -- shaping all of this into what feels like a full and believable portrait of Charity and Sylvia's lives was an impressive synthesis of research, but did not make for a narrative of impelling forward momentum (for this reason, I gave up listening to it as an audio book and switched to the print version, to get through it faster).

I was most struck by author Rachel Hope Cleves' insistence that Charity and Sylvia's family and neighbors did see their relationship as a marriage, and almost certainly as a sexual one at that, rather than suggesting that they were able to live their lives together without censure (mostly) simply because almost all people back then were innocently oblivious of the existence of lesbian sex, a common belief even shared by groundbreaking lesbian historian Lillian Faderman. Cleves writes:

"Although it is commonly assumed that the 'closet' is an opaque space, meaning that people in the closet keep others in total ignorance about their sexuality, often the closet is really an open secret. The ignorance that defines the closet is as likely to be a carefully constructed edifice as it is to be a total absence of knowledge." Cleves convincingly lays out an argument that the people in early 19th century town of Weybridge, Vermont chose to look the other way because Charity and Sylvia proved themselves to be such valuable members of the community, as pillars of the church, as skilled tailors, and as aunts providing employment and temporary shelter and support to their scores of nieces and nephews, and as well as other young people unrelated to them.

Long story short: valuable and thought provoking, but not one I'm likely to return to for the pleasure of rereading.

[The Book Maven · Rating 3 out of 5]

These days, it hardly merits more than a passing remark: two women establish a house and business together and spend the next 30 years working, loving, and living side-by-side as spouses. But in early 19th century America, it hardly seems possible. Yet this is just what Charity Bryant and Sylvia Drake did in 1800s New England. Were they truly wife and wife? And if so, how did they manage to pull it off?

Cleves, a professor of history, takes on the study of these questions by analyzing the family memoirs, poetry, and correspondences, and comparing them to the prevailing style of literature of the day, and sussing out and interpreting for us non-literary types the arcane references to love, sex, passion, and spouses. How did the community allow it? (Accepting their partnership by ignoring the sexual component.) WHY did the community allow it? (Turns out Drake and Bryant established themselves as important, stable pillars of the community, offering religious support and instruction, financial assistance, public service, and employment.)

It's not the most riveting of reads--particularly the analyses of the poetry--and it's clear that Cleves hasn't quite got the knack yet for transforming her research into popular nonfiction for the non-academic crowd. But it's still interesting material and a valuable contribution to the GLBTQ history of America.

[Kristen Bookrvws · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read for a class but it’s a an academic text that I would actually recommend as a non-academic read. It’s really a history of early America told through the same sex marriage of two women. The author does a really amazing job of intertwining their individual stories with the broader history and culture of New England.

[Dana · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thanks to Net Galley and Oxford University Press for an Advance Reading Copy.

Author Rachel Hope Cleves has done an outstanding job of documenting the story of Charity Bryant and Sylvia Drake, two women who during the early years of the nineteenth century, decided to live together as "husband and wife". What makes the story fascinating is the fact that these women were not shunned but rather embraced by the community and most of their extended family. Working as tailors (not just sewing but cutting the cloth and making clothes), Charity and Sylvia were able to own their own house, building on throughout the years to make a substantial home, and support themselves solely upon their own labors until the death of Charity in 1851, after over 40 years together as lesbian couple. They were members of the local church and pillars of their community. They provided goods and monies to their families when needed and even put one relation through college. While a few family members were not happy about the arrangement, their sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews wrote fondly Charity and Sylvia. William Cullen Bryant, the nephew of Charity and famous poet, even wrote of their relationship in a published essay in which he described "how this union, no less sacred to them than the tie of marriage, has subsisted in uninterrupted harmony, for forty years".

The author has done a magnificent job of putting the relationship of the women in the context of the time, decoding their letters based on literature and poetry of the time. While no one can be 100% certain of the sexual nature of the couple, common sense would imply a sexual relationship. While this is discussed, it is not the focus of the book. Rather, the focus seems to be on the bravery of Charity and Sylvia to live on their own terms, not bound by what society seemed to demand. Of equal importance is the ability of the women to make their own way in the world, not reliant upon any relative for their subsistence. Working 6-7 days every week, until 2:00 in the morning to finish their orders, they prospered by their hard work and their devotion to each other. Author Cleves expands their world as well, by explaining the religious, economic and legal realities of the time. I learned more about this period of time in New England in the early 1800's than I have in many other books I have read. I can't recommend this book enough.

[Luke · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sitting at a table in Polly's house, Charity wrote the first of only three letters that she apparently ever sent to Sylvia. The reason for this neglect is simple: the letters succeeded in bringing Sylvia back to her within a month. Never again over the following-four years would they be separated. From the moment that Charity and Sylvia met to the moment Charity died, the women spent only one month apart: June 1807.

This book was a fortuitous find within the past few months at my favorite indie bookstore, and every time I picked this work up, I berated myself for not making the time to pop over for a visit during the last few times I was in the area. In terms of this book's inherent worth, it excels the most in the sheer amount of cited reference it brings to the table: for example, this is the most substantial contribution to the mental landscape I possess of the US time frame between the late 18th c. revolution and the mid to late 19th c. civil war, and what a topic to fill that forlorn space with. It was this book I most had in mind when I set out my reading goals for Queer History Month, and now that I'm finished, while I do acknowledge that this work could've used more editing, this didn't overall significantly negate the quality that the text has to offer. Charity and Sylvia were sustained by a measure of skill, communal contribution, and a great deal of luck, but the fact that they managed to so against all common mass media portrayals of the time is something to be waved in the face of many a sea lion and other bad faith provocateur. It's texts like these that attract me in my book sale rounds, and all I can do is make sure that this isn't the last work of its type to cross my path.

But this shift to the mainstream caused a curious amnesia. The self-congratulatory certitude that modern times represented an apogee of tolerance compared to the benighted wasteland of the past has made it hard to fit women like Charity and Sylvia into the historical memory. How could two women have forged a marriage in a traditional New England village, governed by the old faith, and been accepted by their family and friends despite every evidence that they were lovers? Our shock at this tale indicates a failure of imagination. The history of sexual nonconformity is not only a saga of oppression and suffering; it is also a tale of creative ingenuity and accommodation. It is a story of beloved aunts and winking nephews, of cruel gossip and endurance, of erotic touch and spiritual unease, of guarded reputations and public-mindedness, of private pleasures and willful ignorance. The historical record is littered with Charities and Sylvias; we need only open our eyes and see.

This is a comprehensive look at Charity and Sylvia in terms of their families, histories, economics, and places in the social landscape. I imagine many would rail at this overview, which did its best to draw in a number of queer and/or possibly queer figures from the era in terms of poetry, prose, and political action. I for one greatly enjoy this sort of thing for the most part, so I likely had an easier time weathering the moments when the end notes became exhausting and the litany of historical names grew too baffling to keep track of (eighteen kids in a single family with the rest averaging around 7-8 is no joke). In this case, this contextualization is especially valuable due to how much simplification queer history often faces on myriad sides who value proving a point over simply acknowledging the gaps and breakages in the subject at hand. Charity and Sylvia made it through horrendous situations and a back breaking amount of work of the physical/mental/social sort, but they brought so much to their chosen families and communities that it's more than easy to make the argument that queer people invaluably contribute to their socioeconoimc landscape, if one is gearing towards the practical angle in the fraught realm of legalese. Whatever one is trying learn or argue regarding the inherent rights of queer people, this text has a great deal to offer, leastwise in the cis white US frame of things. The mention of "No Kisses Like Youres," letters of romance sent between two African American women during the antebellum period, however, is a teasing flash of what books have yet to be written.

The sexual implications of bed-sharing has been a topic of debate in nineteenth-century American history, in large part because of its role in the question of Abraham Lincoln's sexuality. Biographer C. A. Tripp, who argued for Lincoln's homosexuality, pointed to the four years he shared a bed with his beloved friend Joshua Speed.

This text is essential for someone like me who does her best to irrefutably demonstrate that queer history/lit/etc was not first propagated within the last ten, fifty, or even 100 years. Considering how much erasure is still happening both within and without the "LGBT" community, it's vital to take what is customarily smoothed over and bring it to the forefront, as there are few things that resist a community's fight to exist more than the inherent belief that they have to reinvent the wheel. Here are two women who made it in a landscape that was inhospitable in ways that the modern world (leastwise certain overrepresented parts of it) finds it hard to conceptualize. Queer people face different dangers these days, but the litany that proclaims that one cannot exist this way or that and indeed has never done so is a powerful poison in the journey to discover oneself. I'm still not going to say every historical woman loving woman was a lesbian, but fortunately, the book is far more useful in many other regards, and it is for those that I appreciate it.

Two centuries ago there lived two women who chose to marry each other rather than any man. For more than forty years they shared a purse, common relations, and a bed, where when the spirit moved them they shared their bodies as well. When they died, they were buried under the same gravestone. And there you can find them still.

[Sarah - All The Book Blog Names Are Taken]

Full review to come. Wavering between three and four stars. I'm not quite sure what feels 'off' to me, might need a couple days to figure it out.

[Masha Harris · Rating 3 out of 5]

I created the following Book Club Discussion Questions for this book:

1. What did you know about social mores in the early 19th century before reading this book? What did you learn?
2. What were the consequences of homosexuality during this time period? How did these consequences affect each of the women? How was Charity’s experience different from Sylvia’s, and why?
3. Why do you think Charity and Sylvia were more able to live a life together in Vermont than Charity and other lovers were in Massachusetts?
4. The Washington Post quotes Cleves: “What made their relationship work was how public it was.” How did Charity and Sylvia’s place in the community impact their ability to have a relationship?
5. Some reviews of this book describe it as fascinating, while others claim it was too academic and dull. Where do you fall on this spectrum?
6. In the afterword, the author writes, “It remains possible today to write about Charity and Sylvia without addressing the question of whether they had sex.” Do you agree with this? To what extent is this question important? Do you believe they had sex?
7. Much of what we know about Charity and Sylvia’s lives comes from their correspondence. How has correspondence changed from then until now? Has it gained or lost anything? Do you think future generations will analyze modern correspondence with the same scrutiny Cleves gave to this work?
8. Why do you think past generations chose to preserve Charity and Sylvia’s writing? What makes one document worth keeping where another is discarded?
9. Why did Cleves feel it was necessary to tell Charity and Sylvia’s story? Is this an important book?
10. In a review of the book on the blog Smart Bitches, Trashy Books, the reviewer writes, “To me the most powerful message of the book is that same-sex relationships are not only not new, they weren’t even particularly unusual, and they weren’t always doomed. There’s a sense that if you are writing about gay characters historically, you have to make their stories tragic, because their lives were tragic.” How does Charity and Sylvia differ from other historical books you’ve read with gay characters? What was the most powerful message of the book for you?

[Kent · Rating 3 out of 5]

a fascinating social/micro history; impressive scholarly research that makes many larger points out of often little surviving evidence; Cleves also draws on an impressive amount of scholarship in a variety of fields, to say nothing of her understanding of euphemisms and innuendo that are long out of use and would mean little to most readers; Cleves' writing is also very accessible and at times expertly crafted

The biggest downsides to the book are Charity and Sylvia and Cleves' evidence. These were very much women of their race, location, and time--which means Cleves' evidence is full of religious language, poetry, and detailed letters. If one is not excited by these items, the book will be difficult to get through. Additionally, because of the limited evidence/writings left by Charity and Sylvia, Cleves must also resort to long passages about friends and the extensive families of each, which can read a bit like just a listing of names (although she uses the many inclusions of different friends/relatives for a variety of significant reasons).

Still, the work is of great importance to scholars of sexuality, gender, and women-- especially for Cleves' strong critiques of how the history of homosexuality (and sexuality more broadly) has been written and the problems the LGBT rights paradigm can/has caused regarding the writing of this history

[Sofia M. · Rating 5 out of 5]

I give it a 100 stars.

[Karyl · Rating 4 out of 5]

It’s commonly heard, especially during Pride Month, “Why do the gays have to shove it in our face? Just let them do their thing and do it quietly!” But honestly, even living their own lives have always put gay people at risk. I am writing this on the day that Jonathan Joss’s husband released a statement of his murder, simply for being gay. And it’s 2025.

Charity Bryant and Sylvia Drake just wanted to live in peace on the frontier of Vermont in the early 1800s. Charity, a bit hotheaded and eager to find love with another woman, tended to be less circumspect about her passions that she ought to have been in that day and age, and gossip followed her, making life uncomfortable. Then she met Sylvia, and she knew that this was her person. These two women made a life together in their own home, supporting themselves through tailoring, and even welcomed into their home apprentices which became almost like daughters to them. Their relationship as what we would recognize as a married couple was an open secret; most people knew they shared a bed, but because they were such an integral part of their community, and extremely pious as well, the fact that they were most likely sexually intimate was ignored — as it should be.

This is a bit drier than the narrative nonfiction I am used to, although learning about life in pre- verses post-Revolutionary War America was fascinating. One nugget of information that I’m still thinking about is that not only did families have to be wealthy enough to cover the fees of a girl’s schooling, but also to be able to live without what her labor would bring. Some families could have found the money for school fees, but the girl’s labor of cooking, cleaning, child minding, sewing, etc, was too valuable to give up to allow her to vacate the home for schooling. I also found it interesting that the Revolution changed society as a whole; teenage children were less likely to obey their parents blindly, and felt they had the choice to make their own way.

There is a lot of interpreting the letters of both Charity and Sylvia; Charity and her amours before Sylvia had to communicate in code, but it was a code both parties knew. I know some folks will disagree with Cleves’s interpretation, but I appreciated the decoding she provides the reader. I also do not find it strange at all that two lesbian women would have found each other in post-Revolutinary New England. Gay people have always existed, after all.

I love the fact that Charity and Sylvia made a cozy life for one another in their small cottage, loved by their many nieces and nephews, and valued by the community in which they lived. I wish more people would read biographies like this one, if only to recognize that there have been times in which homosexuality has been accepted, or at least not punished punitively.

[Bronwyn · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found this randomly at HPB a while ago. They had an end cap full (probably remainders) and it sounded right up my alley. This was so fascinating and such good scholarship (so many citations! Makes my history heart happy!). I loved reading about late 18th-early 19th century New England through Charity and Sylvia’s relationship. This is so much more though. Cleves touches on early American education, business, religion, law, and so much more in telling this story. I wish it was a bit more chronological rather than thematic, but the story did move on well. Such a good history.

[Garrett · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lovingly and exhaustively researched and cited, Cleves gives you enough background on this early American same-sex couple to adequately explain the idea of the "open closet" and make it something you can take onboard and move forward with while you read the rest of this book. Charity and Sylvia's relationship is laid bare in as much detail as is available, and contextualized extensively. This makes it what it should be; real almost to banality - not in any negative way, but as the author points out, these were simply two married people and there were other same-sex couples all over - this SHOULD be just a narrative of two early American women, instead of the focus on the "same-sex" part.

One critique: though this could be the fault of unbalanced documentation, the author, or myself, Charity comes across on the page as a far more fully developed personality (at least to me) than does Sylvia. With Charity taking the outwardly dominant role in their relationship, this may be on purpose, but the balance was a little off for my tastes.

[Liz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Charity and Sylvia is a well-written and engaging book about the timely topic of same-sex marriage in the United States and the timeless concepts of marriage, family, religion, work, and women.

Charity and Sylvia explores the open same-sex relationship of Charity Bryant and Sylvia Drake between 1807 and 1851. Rachel Hope Cleves investigates how Charity and Sylvia met, how their relationship was a marriage, and how these two women were able to live openly as husband and wife without persecution from other residents in the town of Weybridge, Vermont. However, Cleves' masterful narrative explores more than just the relationship of Charity and Sylvia. In exploring Charity and Sylvia's marriage, Cleves uses the lives of these two women to explore early American ideas about marriage, family, religion, health and wellness, work, and women.

Anyone who would like to learn more about early American domestic life and/or how the past applies to the present should read this book.

[Mark McNease · Rating 5 out of 5]

Full disclosure: I had the pleasure of interviewing the author for a podcast. Both Rachel Hope Cleves and the book are exceptionally articulate, engaging and conscientious. This is a biography I couldn't put down, as page-turning as a suspense novel. It's very rich in personal and historical detail and presents portraits of these two women and the worlds they inhabited that you are very unlikely to find anywhere else. There's was indeed a marriage and it lasted 44 years. It's also an intriguing examination of the closet and what that means, with a broader understanding of how communities participate in the closeting of its members with approval and implicit acceptance, within guidelines. A really good read and a clear glimpse into another world.

[Maggie · Rating 5 out of 5]

ARC borrowed from a friend.

Brilliant work. Cleves is not only an excellent researcher, she is a great historian whose careful consideration and presentation of the historical and cultural context surrounding Charity and Sylvia gives the reader a richer understanding of New England in the period following the Revolution. We forget sometimes how nuanced the past can be. Cleves presents a whole story, giving various options or possibilities when the evidence is unclear instead of enforcing a particular view. Charity and Sylvia's poems, letters, and diary entries --their voices-- guide the narrative. The writing is clear, elegant, and engaging. Basically I adored this book.

[Katie Kwon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very readable but clearly rigorously researched, a too rare combination! I gained a renewed appreciation for the feminist and LGBQ gains of the last 200 years. Would have loved the author to have more material, especially Charity's letters and Sylvia's diaries. It's hard to read how much Sylvia was tormented by the idea that her marriage was sinful. I was left wondering how I'd find them if I met them. Religion was so central to their self conception, and the brief anecdote of Charity scolding the little girl for rough housing in the grass jarred with my image of her as a protofeminist badass.

[Brooks · Rating 1 out of 5]

I wanted to like this book soooo much but I absolutely hated it. I thought it would be an interesting historical account of the relationship between these two women in early America however, it was so slow paced and over half of the book was the lives of the women before they even met. I expected so much more from this book and would have DNF'd it had I not had to finish reading it for a class.

[coolcatMaya · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fantastic book!! I thought it would be boring and was procrastinating reading it but for being a (not super pop-y) history book it was riveting! The character and life stories of Charity and Sylvia both come to feel like surprisingly accurate pictures as poems, letters and documents are woven together. There was so much surviving text about and from these women, even with Charity having most of her letters burned.

I think Hope Cleve's presents a convincing argument for both the reality of the relationship that existed between these women and the way it was viewed by people around them.

So interesting to read about America during this time. The hard work, the way people wrote, the way towns were built from the ground up, how common death and debilitating disease was. What a hard time to live through. Made it all the more incredible that these two women got 42 years with eachother. I think the fact that you get a wider view of the country is what made the book hold my attention, you got to see how Charity and Sylvias story really fits into its surroundings.

And very interesting to read about the way queerness was here there and everywhere... The romantic friendships, womens schools (Mädchen in Uniform was not from nowhere), female husbands and the, to me, shocking amount of single women and men who lived together or on their own at the time.

[Andi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well-researched and extensively documented. The subject matter necessitates a good deal of "reading between the lines", as it were, but the author does a good job of explaining when she's doing that, and why, and going over all possible interpretations where multiple possibilities exist. My only complaint was that the end product was honestly a little dull, but if nothing else, that underscores the fact that these were ordinary people living ordinary lives except for a few (obviously very important) differences in detail. And even apart from the question of Charity and Sylvia's relationship, this is a fascinating glimpse at everyday life in early 19th century America. The short length makes up for any tedium; definitely worth the read.

[Monica · Rating 4 out of 5]

Superbly researched and gracefully written, this book makes an important contribution to scholarly research, but it would be enjoyed by anyone with an interest in GLBTQ history or women's history.

[Dichotomy Girl]

The subject matter of this was interesting, but I found the writing style drier and more academic then I was looking for.

DNF @ 10%

[Robin Mandell · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved everything about this book. It’s a favorite read of 2020.Really, really engaging. There is so much more to history then what makes it into high school textbooks and “common knowledge.”

[liz˳✧༚]

I have been told that these contain gay love letters. I am a single sapphic and ready to yearn.

[Louisa Olsen · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book. I read it for a class, but it totally felt like a book I was just reading for fun. I got through it really quickly. It was interesting to learn about the lives of these women, and their lives also provided just some general insight into what was happening at the time in New England.

[Jared Bieschke · Rating 5 out of 5]

Charity and Sylvia both grew up in the time immediately following the American Revolution. The period of transformation, of the invigoration of the young, of the opportunity for bold reckonings with old orders, and with meaningful civic engagement spurned on young people at that time, to shake off old kinds of expectations, venturing out into the unknown to make new lives for themselves. Both Charity and Sylvia served as school teachers, and vowed never to marry. This gave them the opportunity to live somewhat apart from the crushing family structures that kept women in the bondage of brutally demanding domestic labor and years of pregnancies. 

They eventually met in a rural farming village in Vermont, while Charity was visiting Sylvia's sister. They appear to have been quite taken with each other, and in the next few months they wrote each other the few letters that they ever sent each other - within three months of meeting they had made a home for themselves, and celebrated that first day together in that home as an anniversary for the rest of their lives.

Charity writes in a short memoir, that on this day Sylvia had "consented to be [her] help-meet," a word from Genesis 2:18, that is used to describe Eve in her relationship to Adam. That they saw themselves as married is bolstered by the written record they left behind, as well as what was said of them. Their multitudinous neices and nephews describe them both as Aunts, and address social correspondence to them simultaneously, as one would for amarried couple of the period. 

Other historical accounts of their incredible relationship don't think or talk much about their relationship, and whether they were sexually intimate, some, listed by Cleeves even go so far as to suppose that they never were, as pious and deeply religious women. However, this story is not of historical figures, but of people. People who suffered crises of faith, who loved deeply, who supported their families and their communities, who plied a trade and taught it to others, supporting themselves and forming a life together. 

In the reading of this incredibly story, I was touched not only by the devotion of these two women to each other, but also by the way that their families, churches and town arranged themselves around this relationship. They were accepted, they were loved, trusted, relied upon. They were pillars of the community, deeply philanthropic

However, there's evidence, described so compassionately by Cleeves, that they were tortured internally, roiling between their love for each other, and their love for God. This sense of theirs that they were unworthy vessels, or sinners of the highest order is among the most heartrending of the book. Growing up Christian and I remember feeling deeply that sense of wickedness and unworthiness, despite outward attempts at "good Christianity." These women lived wonderful lives, full of goodness, compassion, forbearance, generosity and love. It is devastating that even in these lives of hardship, illness, restraint, they found much to reproach themselves with, instead of being able to simply love, be loved, and feel joy. 
This book read like a novel, and I loved learning about Charity and Sylvia and the worlds they inhabited, reading their letters and hearing this story. It is a wonderful and timely reminder that same-sex love is not new, and it is not a symptom of our time, nor are our relationships ahistorical as many claim. Here, in strictly pious and religious Vermont lived two women, very much in loved, united in life and in business.

And there you can find them still. 

[Susan · Rating 1 out of 5]

I got this book from Audible as a deal of the day. I thought it sounded interesting and a good story. But I wanted a story not a cut and dried history. I tried several chapters thinking it would start to read as a story. I finally sent it back to Audible.

[Kate · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading history books, especially ones like this about the everyday lives of a few people, really makes me want a time machine. The only glimpse we get into their lives is through their writings that survived, and Charity asked a lot of her friends and family to destroy her letters, so there's not always a lot to go on. I want to go back in time and observe them from behind a tree or something. Pretend to be a turn-of-the-19th-century lady and become friends with them. But time travel is impossible I guess, so we just have letters and ledgers and wonderful people like Rachel Hope Cleves to read and interpret them.

Charity and Sylvia had such stressful lives that were yet still full of love and family! They were tailors who worked incredibly long hours to weather all of the financial instability of their time, they couldn't find time to sleep much which made them ill all the time and I can't imagine cutting and sewing fabric for sometimes up to 20 hours a day was great for repetitive stress injuries. Plus all the blood loss, which was prescribed by the doctors of the time FOR EVERYTHING. They were into each other in a way that wasn't socially sanctioned at the time, so they worried about how people would talk about them and about their families not accepting their unorthodox living situation. They agonized for their entire lives about how their lifestyle was an affront to God...they were in constant spiritual pain thinking that their attraction to each other was a major sin and that living as they did made them hypocrites. But, their family (mostly) accepted them, the church loved them, their local community regarded them as beloved aunts to look up to as spiritual mentors, and their contributions meant that everyone was also able to accept them as basically a married couple without having to actually talk about it. They appear to have done good, in comparison to other young ladies who were ostracized for never marrying and deciding instead to work for themselves, and to many of their male family and friends who underwent bankruptcy more than once. Despite their social and spiritual worries, they remained together for 44 years, so it must have been worth it.

[mica · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was an incredibly interesting read, although for those readers who do not enjoy reading a fairly academic text, I would advise against it.

With an astoundingly well-cited notes section (one of my complaints about this book would be the use of endnotes over footnotes, because I hate having to flip back and forth for them), and a fairly balanced narrative, Cleves' description of this 18th and 19th century same-sex marriage is enthralling.

My one complaint regarding the text would be that occasionally, I believe that Cleves moves into conjecture. I don't mean regarding the nature of Charity and Sylvia's relationship (she provides enough evidence to convince me, anyway), but instead, occasionally, in the lives of Charity and Sylvia's relations, where there is not information to confirm suspicions one way or another. (My main example of this was the page-long suggestion, relatively early on, that one of Charity's brothers may have committed suicide because of how suddenly he died, and a lack of information about the death struck me as a poor choice, even though she pedals back at the end of this to say "but it could also have been x, y or z diseases").

I really appreciate that Cleve is very clear about the fact that although Charity and Sylvia were able to live together in relative peace and stability, this was not possible for many, many other women at the time. Cleve also states that one of her motives in writing this book was to help remove the erasure of the LGBT community through out our histories.

All in all, however, I think it is a worthy read, if somewhat academic (a quality I really appreciate, but others may not).

[Faith Snyder · Rating 5 out of 5]

Charity and Sylvia: A Same-Sex Marriage in Early America was a book I received through Good Reads First Reads contest. I was at first suspicious of this book because I rarely read non-fiction, but since this has a number of factors that interest me I decided to jump and read it. I'M SO HAPPY I DID.
I am a feminist (uh oh I brought out the f-word) and this book was PERFECT for not only my feminist side but also my gay rights side as well. It was EXTREMELY interesting to see how well these two women interacted with towns of people that at the time thought being gay was one of the worst sins possible. How these two women made it together and could be seen as a married couple in their town is simply baffling. It begs the question of how important this society has come so far into judging people simply off one aspect of their life as opposed to all aspects. Rachel Hope Cleves dedicated time and effort put into this fantastic book was really one of the BEST non-fiction books I have read in a long time. Simply perfect. Charity and Sylvia's lives are shown directly to the reader and gives them an understanding that these were two women who were whole heartedly in love with the other and that is just beautiful.
I really would like to thank everyone who was apart of sending me this lovely book it was one of the greatest gifts I could of ever received. I also would like to add that I feel as a college student this book is a great resource for future essays and reports in my women and gender studies class so this is just excellent! :)

[Melisa Buie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wonderful history of two women who opened doors for others in this country. Cleves did an amazing job with the research on this book. It was a very academic presentation with lots of historical context. This book is a treasure for LGBTQ and feminist history buffs.

I selected 4 stars because there is a lot of redundancy in the pondering of whether they were just friends who spent their lives together and shared everything or whether they were actually lesbians. It was almost like this was written as a collection of essays about their lives then pulled together in a book.