Mount Holyoke Seminary, a school nestled among the serene hills of Massachusetts: Where the wealthiest families in New England sent their daughters to get a good Christian women's higher education. With only two women's colleges in the country at the time, only the wealthiest and most prestigious families could find a spot for their daughters. A spot in a higher education institution meant the women were more high value- and therefore, better for marriage. Of course, unless she becomes too smart and independent, in that case, no man would want her.
Of course, families such as the Vanderbilts were so wealthy that their daughters could be as dull and as dumb as a fish and could still secure a high-value man. Schools such as Wesleyan or Mount Holyoke were below them. Instead, they had the best tutors in the country to teach them how to play piano and speak Latin.
Despite my father's vast wealth, my family immigrated from Portugal when I was a baby, making my sisters and I not as desirable as other old-money families in the States. To families such as the Astors, we are odd foreigners, not fully able to integrate into American high society. Therefore, to groom me into a desirable option, my father sent me to get a high-quality education at the Seminary. After all, if you cannot marry up, you are failing your one duty as a woman and a daughter. Men make the money and women marry rich men and raise sons.
To me, my access to education was disappointing. I sought solace in my studies, a respite from the expectations that weighed heavily on my shoulders. Becoming a woman of knowledge and intellect was a small taste of the freedom I craved—a freedom that my father's plans for my future marriage would inevitably snatch away. The thought of relinquishing this newfound liberty was a pain I wish I never would have to deal with. The minute my father finds me a wealthy man to marry, I lose it all, and because I tasted freedom I can truly miss it. For the past two years, I have received the freedom of being a student instead of just a woman. I've been separated from the gossip, the courting, and the excess. I have been set free.
And on March of 1864, I would feel that aching pain of loss.
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The Dollar Princess of Mexico
Historical FictionIn the year 1864, Isabel, a wealthy Portuguese-American woman, must bid farewell to her education and independence as she is married off to Maximilian I of Mexico - a man she despises at first sight. However, to the astonishment of themselves and th...
