By Melanie Holmes
Women’s accomplishments have long been erased or forgotten, a fact exemplified within Manteno and Kankakee County’s erasure of a woman who helped pass laws in the 1800s to protect married women’s property rights and those of the mentally ill.
If you don’t know her name, that’s because her story was excluded from the historic 1883 Kankakee County Atlas, whose authors declined to name her. Instead, they mentioned a court case that involved her husband (whom they named), and they said the case was one “which all right minded well-wishers of the county are desirous of being forgotten.” Then the 1883 Atlas authors pointed people to the Circuit Clerk’s office for more information.
It was 2011 when I stumbled upon Elizabeth Packard during research for my first book – a book that centered on women’s experiences, voices, and rights. Looking into married women’s property rights, I placed an online order for Barbara Sapinsley’s book, “The Private War of Mrs. Packard,” (1991, Paragon House Publishers). Within the first pages, the name of my hometown was given as the backdrop for Elizabeth Packard’s ordeal. It was a jolting moment. So, I put in a call to a member of Manteno Historical Society, who alluded to a vague recollection of Packard’s name. My first published news article was for the following Women’s History Month (March 2012) – about Elizabeth Packard.
The concise story is that in 1860, Elizabeth Packard was physically forced from her Manteno home, put on a train to downstate Jacksonville, and committed to the state’s only insane asylum (the term used in the 1800s). Upon arrival at the asylum, Elizabeth was committed, based on her husband’s word. Despite the fact Elizabeth carried herself as a woman of well-mannered upraising, and despite there being no medical order from a doctor in the Manteno area, she was locked up. There she stayed for three long years – finally released in June 1863.
And where did she go? She returned to Manteno to her home and her children. Suffice it to say Elizabeth found a way to share her story, and she travelled to meet with politicians (including Pres. Grant) to get laws changed. Her efforts led to reform in 31 states.
Elizabeth Packard’s story is included in three of the five books I’ve written, including “Manteno/Images of America,” which came out in 2020. I mailed her great-great-granddaughter a copy of “Manteno” so she would know Elizabeth never again will be written out of Kankakee County history. Chapter eight in “Manteno” is titled, “Packard Laws.” Others have written about Packard’s ordeal, including Linda Carlisle, whose book, “Elizabeth Packard: A Noble Fight,” came out in 2010 (University of Illinois Press). Carlisle’s highly-regarded book shows the extent to which Elizabeth’s efforts impacted laws across America.
How is it that a woman of Elizabeth Packard’s stature could be erased from local memory? When I’ve done my book talks on “Manteno/Images of America,” I’ve explained it was a matter of neighborly relations. People disagreed with the handling of this poor woman. When her brother-in-law, Abijah Dole, testified in court at Kankakee County Courthouse that he believed Elizabeth was insane because she switched from Presbyterian to Methodist (within Manteno), it created a kerfuffle among churches and neighbors. Thus, one can imagine the topic was swept aside out of necessity.
People of the 1800s relied upon each other to a greater extent than those of subsequent generations. If they met each other at the general store or bank, they defused any feud by avoiding the topic. So, Elizabeth’s name became taboo. Then forgotten. Although Women’s History Month is in March, every day is a good time to reflect on the experiences of disenfranchised groups.
In America, women weren’t granted the right to vote until 1920 with passage of the 19th Amendment. For baby boomers, their grandmothers were born into a world where women could not vote. Think about that. And then, if you will, please refer to writings about one of the county’s hometown heroes. Elizabeth is not buried in Kankakee County, but her husband and daughter are here. Elizabeth would have lived out her years here, too, if not for laws that treated women as second-class citizens.