CHAPTER V

COLONIAL WOMAN AND SOCIAL LIFE

_I. Southern Isolation and Hospitality_

In the earlier part of the seventeenth century the social life of the

colonists, at least in New England, was what would now be considered

monotonous and dull. Aside from marriages, funerals, and church-going

there was little to attract the Puritans from their steady routine of

farming and trading. In New York the Dutch were apparently contented

with their daily eating, drinking, smoking, and walking along the

Battery or out the country road, the Bowery. In Virginia life, as far as

social activities were concerned, was at first dull enough, although

even in the early days of Jamestown there was some display at the

Governor's mansion, while the sessions of court and assemblies brought

planters and their families to town for some brief period of balls,

banquets, and dancing.

As the seventeenth century progressed, however, visiting, dinner

parties, dances, and hunts in the South became more and more gay, and

the balls in the plantation mansions became events of no little

splendor. Wealth, gained through tobacco, increased rapidly in this

section, and the best that England and France could offer was not too

expensive for the luxurious homes of not only Virginia but Maryland and

South Carolina. The higher Dutch families of New York also began to show

considerable vigor socially; Philadelphia forgot the staid dignity of

its founder; and even New England, especially Boston, began to use

accumulated wealth in ways of levity that would have shocked the Puritan

fathers.

In the eighteenth-century South we find accounts of a carefree,

pleasure-loving, joyous mode of life that read almost like stories of

some fairy world. The traditions of the people, among whom was an

element of Cavalier blood, the genial climate, the use of slave labor,

the great demand for tobacco, all united to develop a social life much

more unbounded and hospitable than that found in the northern colonies.

But this constant raising of tobacco soon exhausted the soil; and the

planters, instead of attempting to enrich their lands, found it more

profitable constantly to advance into the forest wilderness to the west,

where the process of gaining wealth at the expense of the soil might be

repeated. This was well for American civilization, but not immediately

beneficial to the intellectual growth of the people. The mansions were

naturally far apart; towns were few in number; schools were almost

impossible; and successful newspapers were for many years simply out of

the question. Washington's estate at Mt. Vernon contained over four

thousand acres; many other farms were far larger; each planter lived in

comparative isolation. Those peculiar advantages arising from living

near a city were totally absent. As late as 1740 Eliza Pinckney wrote a

friend in England: "We are 17 miles by land and 6 by water from Charles

Town."

Thus, each large owner had a tendency to become a petty feudal lord,

controlling large numbers of slaves and unlimited resources of soil and

labor within an arbitrary grasp. As there were numerous navigable

streams, many of the planters possessed private wharfs where tobacco

could be loaded for shipment and goods from abroad delivered within a

short distance of the mansion. Such an economic scheme made trading

centers almost unnecessary and tended to keep the population scattered.

"In striking contrast to New England was the absence of towns, due

mainly to two reasons--first, the wealth of the water courses, which

enabled every planter of means to ship his products from his own wharf,

and, secondly, the culture of tobacco, which scattered the people in a

continual search for new and richer lands. This rural life, while it

hindered co-operation, promoted a spirit of independence among the

whites of all classes which counter-acted the aristocratic form of

government."[153]

Channing, writing of conditions in 1800, the close of this period, says:

"The great Virginia plantations were practically self-sustaining, so far

as the actual necessaries of life were concerned; the slaves had to be

clothed and fed whether tobacco and wheat could be sold or not, but they

produced, with the exception of the raw material for making their

garments, practically all that was essential to their well being. The

money which the Virginia planters received for their staple products was

used to purchase articles of luxury--wine for the men, articles of

apparel for the women, furnishings for the house, and things of that

kind, and to pay the interest on the load of indebtedness which the

Virginia aristocracy owed at home and broad."[154]

Again, the same historian says: "The plenty of everything made

hospitality universal, and the wealth of the country was greatly

promoted by the opening of the forests. Indeed, so contented were the

people with their new homes (1652) that ... 'seldom (if ever) any that

hath continued in Virginia any time will or do desire to live in

England, but post back with what expedition they can, although many are

landed men in England, and have good estates there, and divers ways of

preferments propounded to them, to entice and perswade their

continuants.'"[155]

Now, this comparative isolation of the plantation life made visiting and

neighborliness doubly grateful and, hospitality and the spirit of

kindness became almost proverbial in Virginia. As far back as 1656 John

Hammond of Virginia and Maryland noted this fact with no little pride in

his _Leah and Rachel_; for, said he, "If any fall sick and cannot

compasse to follow his crope, which if not followed, will soon be lost,

the adjoyning neighbors will either voluntarily or upon a request joyn

together, and work in it by spels, untill the honour recovers, and that

gratis, so that no man by sicknesse lose any part of his years worke....

Let any travell, it is without charge, and at every house is

entertainment as in a hostelry, and with it hearty welcome are strangers

entertained.... In a word, Virginia wants not good victuals, wants not

good dispositions, and as God hath freely bestowed it, they as freely

impart with it, yet are there as well bad natures as good."

This spirit of brotherhood and hospitality, was, of course, very

necessary in the first days of colonization, and the sudden increase of

wealth prevented its becoming irksome in later days. Naturally, too, the

poorer classes copied after the aristocracy, and thus the custom became

universal along the Southern coast. As mentioned above, there was a

Cavalier strain throughout the section. As Robert Beverly observed in

his _History of Virginia_, written in 1705: "In the time of the

rebellion in England several good cavalier families went thither with

their effects, to escape the tyranny of the usurper, or acknowledgement

of his title." Such people had long been accustomed to rather lavish

expenditures and entertainment, and, as Beverly testifies, they did not

greatly change their mode of life after reaching America:

"For their recreation, the plantations, orchards and gardens

constantly afford them fragrant and delightful walks. In their

woods and fields, they have an unknown variety of vegetables, and

other varieties of Nature to discover. They have hunting, fishing

and fowling, with which they entertain themselves an hundred

ways. There is the most good nature and hospitality practised in

the world, both towards friends and strangers; but the worst of

it is, this generosity is attended now and then with a little too

much intemperance."

"The inhabitants are very courteous to travelers, who need no

other recommendation but the being human creatures. A stranger

has no more to do, but to enquire upon the road, where any

gentleman or good housekeeper lives, and there he may depend upon

being received with hospitality. This good nature is so general

among their people, that the gentry, when they go abroad, order

their principal servant to entertain all visitors, with

everything the plantation affords. And the poor planters, who

have but one bed, will very often sit up, or lie upon a form or

couch all night, to make room for a weary traveler, to repose

himself after his journey...."

Many other statements, not only by Americans, but by cultured foreigners

might be presented to show the charm of colonial life in Virginia. The

Marquis de Chastellux, one of the French Revolutionary generals, a man

who had mingled in the best society of Europe, was fascinated with the

evidence of luxury, culture and, feminine refinement of the Old

Dominion, and declared that Virginia women might become excellent

musicians if the fox-hounds would stop baying for a little while each

day. He met several ladies who sang well and "played on the

harpsichord"; he was delighted at the number of excellent French and

English authors he found in the libraries; and, above all, he was

surprised at the natural dignity of many of the older men and women, and

at the evidences of domestic felicity found in the great homes.

_II. Splendor in the Southern Home_

Of these vast, rambling mansions numerous descriptions have been handed

down to our day. The following, written in 1774, is an account recorded

in his diary by the tutor, Philip Fithian, in the family of a Virginia

planter:

"Mr. Carter has chosen for the place of his habitation a high

spot of Ground in Westmoreland County ... where he has erected a

large, Elegant House, at a vast expense, which commonly goes by

the name of Nomini-Hall. This House is built with Brick but the

bricks have been covered with strong lime Mortar, so that the

building is now perfectly white (erected in 1732). It is

seventy-six Feet long from East to West; & forty-four wide from

North to South, two stories high; ... It has five stacks of

Chimneys, tho' two of these serve only for ornaments."

"There is a beautiful Jutt, on the South side, eighteen feet

long, & eight Feet deep from the wall which is supported by three

pillars--On the South side, or front, in the upper story are four

Windows each having twenty-four Lights of Glass. In the lower

story are two Windows each having forty-two Lights of Glass, &

two Doors each having Sixteen Lights. At the east end the upper

story has three windows each with 18 lights; & below two windows

both with eighteen lights & a door with nine...."

"The North side I think is the most beautiful of all. In the

upper story is a row of seven windows with 18 lights a piece; and

below six windows, with the like number of lights; besides a

large Portico in the middle, at the sides of which are two

windows each with eighteen lights.... At the west end are no

Windows--The number of lights in all is five hundred, & forty

nine. There are four Rooms on a Floor, disposed of in the

following manner. Below is a dining Room where we usually sit;

the second is a dining-room for the Children; the third is Mr.

Carters study, and the fourth is a Ball-Room thirty Feet long.

Above stairs, one room is for Mr. & Mrs. Carter; the second for

the young Ladies; & the other two for occasional Company. As this

House is large, and stands on a high piece of Land it may be seen

a considerable distance."

Nor were these houses less elegantly furnished than magnificently

built. Chastellux was astounded at the taste and richness of the

ornaments and permanent fixtures, and declared of the Nelson Home at

Yorktown that "neither European taste nor luxury was excluded; a chimney

piece and some bas-reliefs of very fine marble exquisitely sculptured

were particularly admired." As Fisher says of such mansions, in his

interesting _Men, Women and Manners in Colonial Times:_ "They were

crammed from cellar to garret with all the articles of pleasure and

convenience that were produced in England: Russia leather chairs, Turkey

worked chairs, enormous quantities of damask napkins and table-linen,

silver and pewter ware, candle sticks of brass, silver and pewter,

flagons, dram-cups, beakers, tankards, chafing-dishes, Spanish tables,

Dutch tables, valuable clocks, screens, and escritoires."[156]

_III. Social Activities_

In such an environment a gay social life was eminently fitting, and how

often we may read between the lines of old letters and diaries the story

of such festive occasions. For instance, scan the records of the life of

Eliza Pinckney, and her beautiful daughter, one of the belles of

Charleston, and note such bits of information as the following:

"Governor Lyttelton will wait on the ladies at Belmont" (the home of

Mrs. Pinckney and her daughter); "Mrs. Drayton begs the pleasure of your

company to spend a few days"; "Lord and Lady Charles Montague's Compts

to Mrs. and Miss Pinckney, and if it is agreeable to them shall be glad

of their Company at the Lodge"; "Mrs. Glen presents her Compts to Mrs.

Pinckney and Mrs. Hyrne, hopes they got no Cold, and begs Mrs. Pinckney

will detain Mrs. Hyrne from going home till Monday, and that they

(together with Miss Butler and the 3 young Lady's) will do her the

favour to dine with her on Sunday." (Mr. Pinckney had been dead for

several years.)[157]

And again, in a letter written in her girlhood to her brother about

1743, Eliza Pinckney says of the people of Carolina:

"The people in genl are hospitable and honest, and the better

sort add to these a polite gentile behaviour. The poorer sort are

the most indolent people in the world or they could never be

wretched in so plentiful a country as this. The winters here are

very fine and pleasant, but 4 months in the year is extreamly

disagreeable, excessive hott, much thunder and lightening and

muskatoes and sand flies in abundance."

"Crs Town, the Metropolis, is a neat, pretty place. The

inhabitants polite and live in a very gentile manner. The streets

and houses regularly built--the ladies and gentlemen gay in their

dress; upon the whole you will find as many agreeable people of

both sexes for the size of the place as almost any

where...."[158]

Companies great enough to give the modern housewife nervous prostration

were often entertained at dinners, while many of the planters kept such

open house that no account was kept of the number of guests who came and

went daily and who commonly made themselves so much at home that the

host or hostess often scarcely disturbed them throughout their entire

stay. Several years after the Revolution George Washington recorded in

his diary the surprising fact that for the first time since he and

Martha Washington had returned to Mount Vernon, they had dined alone. As

Wharton says in her _Martha Washington_, "Warm hearted, open-handed

hospitality was constantly exercised at Mount Vernon, and if the master

humbly recorded that, although he owned a hundred cows, he had sometimes

to buy butter for his family, the entry seems to have been made in no

spirit of fault finding." Of this same Washingtonian hospitality one

French traveller, Brissot de Warville, wrote: "Every thing has an air of

simplicity in his [Washington's] house; his table is good, but not

ostentatious; and no deviation is seen from regularity and domestic

economy. Mrs. Washington superintends the whole, and joins to the

qualities of an excellent housewife that simple dignity which ought to

characterize a woman whose husband has acted the greatest part on the

theater of human affairs; while she possesses that amenity and manifests

that attention to strangers which renders hospitality so charming."[159]

With such hospitality there seemed to go a certain elevation in the

social life of Virginia and South Carolina entirely different from the

corrupt conditions found in Louisiana in the seventeenth century, and

also in contrast with the almost cautious manner in which the New

Englanders of the same period tasted pleasure. In those magnificent

Southern houses--Quincey speaks of one costing £8000, a sum fully equal

in modern buying capacity to $100,000--there was much stately dancing,

almost an extreme form of etiquette, no little genuine art, and music

of exceptional quality. The Charleston St. Cecilia Society, organized in

1737, gave numerous amateurs opportunities to hear and perform the best

musical compositions of the day, and its annual concerts, continued

until 1822, were scarcely ever equalled elsewhere in America, during the

same period. In the aristocratic circles formal balls were frequent, and

were exceedingly brilliant affairs. Eliza Pinckney, describing one in

1742, says: "...The Govr gave the Gentn a very gentile entertainment

at noon, and a ball at night for the ladies on the Kings birthnight, at

wch was a Crowded Audience of Gentn and ladies. I danced a minuet with

yr old acquaintance Capt Brodrick who was extreamly glad to see one so

nearly releated to his old friend...."[160] Ravenel in her _Eliza

Pinckney_ reconstructs from her notes a picture of one of those

dignified balls or fêtes in the olden days:

"On such an occasion as that referred to, a reception for the

young bride who had just come from her own stately home of Ashley

Hall, a few miles down the river, the guests naturally wore all

their braveries. Their dresses, brocade, taffety, lute-string,

etc., were well drawn up through their pocket holes. Their

slippers, to match their dresses, had heels even higher and more

unnatural than our own.... With bows and courtesies, and by the

tips of their fingers, the ladies were led up the high stone

steps to the wide hall, ... and then up the stair case with its

heavy carved balustrade to the panelled rooms above.... Then, the

last touches put to the heads (too loftily piled with cushions,

puffs, curls, and lappets, to admit of being covered with

anything more than a veil or a hood).... Gay would be the

feast...."

"The old silver, damask and India china still remaining show how

these feasts were set out.... Miss Lucas has already told us

something of what the country could furnish in the way of good

cheer, and we may be sure that venison and turkey from the

forest, ducks from the rice fields, and fish from the river at

their doors, were there.... Turtle came from the West Indies,

with 'saffron and negroe pepper, very delicate for dressing it.'

Rice and vegetables were in plenty--terrapins in every pond, and

Carolina hams proverbially fine. The desserts were custards and

creams (at a wedding always bride cake and floating island),

jellies, syllabubs, puddings and pastries.... They had port and

claret too ... and for suppers a delicious punch called 'shrub,'

compounded of rum, pineapples, lemons, etc., not to be commended

by a temperance society."

"The dinner over, the ladies withdrew, and before very long the

scraping of the fiddlers would call the gentlemen to the

dance,--pretty, graceful dances, the minuet, stately and

gracious, which opened the ball; and the country dance,

fore-runner of our Virginia reel, in which every one old, and

young joined."[161]

It is little wonder that Eliza Pinckney, upon returning from just such a

social function to take up once more the heavy routine of managing three

plantations, complained: "At my return thither every thing appeared

gloomy and lonesome, I began to consider what attraction there was in

this place that used so agreeably to soothe my pensive humor, and made

me indifferent to everything the gay world could boast; but I found the

change not in the place but in myself."[162]

The domestic happiness found in these plantation mansions was apparently

ideal. Families were generally large; there was much inter-marriage,

generation after generation, within the aristocratic circle; and thus

everybody was related to everybody. This gave an excuse for an amount of

informal and prolonged visiting that would be almost unpardonable in

these more practical and in some ways more economical days. There was

considerable correspondence between the families, especially among the

women, and by means of the numerous references to visits, past or to

come, we may picture the friendly cordial atmosphere of the time.

Washington, for instance, records that he "set off with Mrs. Washington

and Patsy, Mr. [Warner] Washington and wife, Mrs. Bushrod and Miss

Washington, and Mr. Magowen for 'Towelston,' in order to stand for Mr.

B. Fairfax's third son, which I did with my wife, Mr. Warner Washington

and his lady." "Another day he returns from attending to the purchase of

western lands to find that Col. Bassett, his wife and children, have

arrived during his absence, 'Billy and Nancy and Mr. Warner Washington

being here also.' The next day the gentlemen go a-hunting together, Mr.

Bryan Fairfax having joined them for the hunt and the dinner that

followed."

Again, we find Mrs. Washington writing, with her usual unique spelling

and sentence structure, to her sister:

"Mt. Vernon Aug 28 1762.

"MY DEAR NANCY,--I had the pleasure to receive your kind letter

of the 25 of July just as I was setting out on a visit to Mr.

Washington in Westmoreland where I spent a weak very agreabley. I

carried my little patt with me and left Jackey at home for a

trial to see how well I could stay without him though we ware

gone but won fortnight I was quite impatient to get home. If I at

aney time heard the doggs barke or a noise out, I thought thair

was a person sent for me....

"We are daly expect(ing) the kind laydes of Maryland to visit us.

I must begg you will not lett the fright you had given you

prevent you comeing to see me again--If I coud leave my children

in as good Care as you can I would never let Mr. W----n come down

without me--Please to give my love to Miss Judy and your little

babys and make my best compliments to Mr. Bassett and Mrs.

Dawson.

"I am with sincere regard

"dear sister

"yours most affectionately

"MARTHA WASHINGTON."[163]

Because of the lack of good roads and the apparently great distances,

the mere matter of travelling was far more important in social

activities than is the case in our day of break-neck speed. A

ridiculously small number of miles could be covered in a day; there were

frequent stops for rest and refreshment; and the occupants of the heavy,

rumbling coaches had ample opportunity for observing the scenery and the

peculiarities of the territory traversed. Martha Washington's grandson

has left an account of her journey from Virginia to New York, and

recounts how one team proved balky, delayed the travellers two hours,

and thus upset all their calculations. But the kindness of those they

met easily offset such petty irritations as stubborn horses and slow

coaches. Note these lines from the account:

"We again set out for Major Snowden's where we arrived at 4

o'clock in the evening. The gate (was) hung between 2 trees which

were scarcely wide enough to admit it. We were treated with great

hospitality and civility by the major and his wife who were plain

people and made every effort to make our stay as agreeable as

possible."

"May 19th. This morning was lowering and looked like rain--we

were entreated to stay all day but to no effect we had made our

arrangements & it was impossible.... Majr Snowden accompanied us

10 or a dozen miles to show a near way and the best road.... We

proceeded as far as Spurriers ordinary and there refreshed

ourselves and horses.... Mrs. Washington shifted herself here,

expecting to be met by numbers of gentlemen out of

B----re--(Baltimore) in which time we had everything in

reddiness, the carriage, horses, etc., all at the door in

waiting."[164]

The story of that journey, now made in a few hours, is filled with

interesting light upon the ways of the day:--the numerous accidents to

coaches and horses, the dangers of crossing rivers on flimsy ferries,

the hospitality of the people, who sent messengers to insist that the

party should stop at the various homes, the strange mingling of the

uncouth, the totally wild, and the highly civilized and cultured.

Probably at no other time in the world's history could so many stages of

man's progress and conquest of nature be seen simultaneously as in

America of the eighteenth century.

_IV. New England Social Life_

Turning to New England, we find of course that under the early Puritan

régime amusements were decidedly under the ban. We have noted under the

discussion of the home the strictness of New England views, and how this

strictness influenced every phase of public and private life. Indeed, at

this time life was largely a preparation for eternity, and the ethical

demands of the day gave man an abnormally tender and sensitive

conscience. When Nathaniel Mather declared in mature years that of all

his manifold sins none so stuck upon him as that, when a boy, he

whittled on the Sabbath day, and did it behind the door--"a great

reproach to God"--he was but illustrating the strange atmosphere of

fear, reverence, and narrowness of his era.

And yet, those earlier settlers of Plymouth and Boston were a kindly,

simple-hearted, good-natured people. It is evident from Judge Sewall's

_Diary_ that everybody in a community knew everybody else, was genuinely

interested in everyone's welfare, and was always ready with a helping

hand in days of affliction and sorrow. All were drawn together by common

dangers and common ties; it was an excellent example of true community

interest and co-operation. This genuine solicitude for others, this

desire to know how other sections were getting along, this natural

curiosity to inquire about other people's health, defences against

common dangers, and advancement in agriculture, trade and manufacturing,

led to a form of inquisitiveness that astonished and angered foreigners.

Late in the eighteenth century even Americans began to notice this

proverbial Yankee trait. Samuel Peters, writing in 1781 in his _General

History of Connecticut_, said: "After a short acquaintance they become

very familiar and inquisitive about news. 'Who are you, whence come you,

where going, what is your business, and what your religion?' They do not

consider these and similar questions as impertinent, and consequently

expect a civil answer. When the stranger has satisfied their curiosity

they will treat him with all the hospitality in their power."

Fisher in his _Men, Women, & Manners in Colonial Times_ declares:

"A ... Virginian who had been much in New England in colonial times used

to relate that as soon as he arrived at an inn he always summoned the

master and mistress, the servants and all the strangers who were about,

made a brief statement of his life and occupation, and having assured

everybody that they could know no more, asked for his supper; and

Franklin, when travelling in New England, was obliged to adopt the same

plan."[165]

Old Judge Sewall, a typical specimen of the better class Puritan,

certainly possessed a kindly curiosity about his neighbors' welfare, and

many are his references to visits to the sick or dying, or to attendance

at funerals. While there were no great balls nor brilliant fêtes, as in

the South, his _Diary_ emphatically proves that there were many pleasant

visits and dinner parties and a great deal of the inevitable courting.

Thus, we note the following:

"Tuesday, January 12. I dine at the Governour's: where Mr. West,

Governour of Carolina, Capt. Blackwell, his Wife and Daughter,

Mr. Morgan, his Wife and Daughter Mrs. Brown, Mr. Eliakim

Hutchinson and Wife.... Mrs. Mercy sat not down, but came in

after dinner well dressed and saluted the two Daughters. Madm

Bradstreet and Blackwell sat at the upper end together, Governour

at the lower end."[166]

"Dec. 20, 1676 ... Mrs. Usher lyes very sick of an Inflammation

in the Throat.... Called at her House coming home to tell Mr.

Fosterling's Receipt, i.e. A Swallows Nest (the inside) stamped

and applied to the throat outwardly."[167]

"Satterday, June 5th, 1686. I rode to Newbury, to see my little

Hull, and to keep out of the way of the Artillery Election, on

which day eat Strawberries and Cream with Sister Longfellow at

the Falls."[168]

"Monday, July 11. I hire Ems's Coach in the Afternoon, wherein

Mr. Hez. Usher and his wife, and Mrs. Bridget her daughter, my

Self and wife ride to Roxbury, visit Mr. Dudley, and Mr. Eliot,

the Father who blesses them. Go and sup together at the Grayhound

Tavern with boil'd Bacon and rost Fowls. Came home between 10 and

11 brave Moonshine, were hinder'd an hour or two by Mr. Usher,

else had been in good season."[169]

"Thorsday, Oct. 6, 1687 ... On my Unkle's Horse after Diner, I

carry my wife to see the Farm, where we eat Aples and drank

Cider. Shew'd her the Meeting-house.... In the Morn Oct. 7th

Unkle and Goodm. Brown come our way home accompanying of us. Set

out after nine, and got home before three. Call'd no where by the

way. Going out, our Horse fell down at once upon the Neck, and

both fain to scramble off, yet neither receiv'd any

hurt...."[170]

Nearly a century later Judge Pynchon records a social life similar,

though apparently much more liberal in its views of what might enter

into legitimate entertainment:

"Saturday, July 7, 1784. Dine at Mr. Wickkham's, with Mrs. Browne

and her two daughters.... In the afternoon Mrs. Browne and I, the

Captain, Blaney, and a number of gentlemen and ladies, ride, and

some walk out, some to Malbon's Garden, some to Redwood's,

several of us at both; are entertained very agreeably at each

place; tea, coffee, cakes, syllabub, and English beer, etc.,

punch and wine. We return at evening; hear a song of Mrs. Shaw's,

and are highly entertained; the ride, the road, the prospects,

the gardens, the company, in short, everything was most

agreeable, most entertaining--was admirable."[171]

"Thursday, October 25, 1787 ... Mrs. Pynchon, Mrs. Orne, and

Betsy spend the evening at Mrs. Anderson's; musick and

dancing."[172]

"Monday, November 10, 1788 ... Mrs. Gibbs, Curwen, Mrs. Paine,

and others spend the evening here, also Mr. Gibbs, at

cards."[173]

"Friday, April 19 1782. Some rain. A concert at night; musicians

from Boston, and dancing."[174]

"June 24, Wednesday, 1778. Went with Mrs. Orne [his daughter] to

visit Mr. Sewall and lady at Manchester, and returned on

Thursday."[175]

_V. Funerals as Recreations_

Even toward the close of the eighteenth century, however, lecture days

and fast days were still rather conscientiously observed, and such

occasions were as much a part of New England social activities as were

balls and receptions in Virginia. Judge Pynchon makes frequent note of

such religious meetings; as,--"April 25, Thursday, 1782. Fast Day.

Service at Church, A.M.; none, P.M."[176] "Thursday, July 20, 1780. Fast

Day; clear."[177] Funerals and weddings formed no small part of the

social interests of the day, and indeed the former apparently called for

much more display and formality than was ever the case in the South.

There seems to have been among the Puritans a certain grim pleasure in

attending a burial service, and in the absence of balls, dancing, and

card playing, the importance of the New England funeral in early social

life can scarcely be overestimated. During the time of Sewall the burial

was an occasion for formal invitation cards; gifts of gloves, rings, and

scarfs were expected for those attending; and the air of depression so

common in a twentieth century funeral was certainly not conspicuous. It

may have been because death was so common; for the death rate was

frightfully high in those good old days, and in a community so thinly

populated burials were so extremely frequent that every one from

childhood was accustomed to the sight of crepe and coffin. Man is a

gregarious creature and craves the assembly, and as church meetings,

weddings, executions, and funerals were almost the sole opportunities

for social intercourse, the flocking to the house of the dead was but

normal and natural. Sewall seems to have been in constant attendance at

such gatherings:

"Midweek, March 23, 1714-5. Mr. Addington buried from the

Council-Chamber ... 20 of the Council were assisting, it being

the day for Appointing Officers. All had Scarvs. Bearers Scarvs,

Rings, Escutcheons...."[178]

"My Daughter is Inter'd.... Had Gloves and Rings of 2 pwt and

1/2. Twelve Ministers of the Town had Rings, and two out of

Town...."[179]

"Tuesday, 18, Novr. 1712. Mr. Benknap buried. Joseph was invited

by Gloves, and had a scarf given him there, which is the

first."[180]

"Feria sexta, April 8, 1720. Govr. Dudley is buried in his father

Govr. Dudley's Tomb at Roxbury. Boston and Roxbury Regiments were

under Arms, and 2 or 3 Troops.... Scarves, Rings, Gloves,

Escutcheons.... Judge Dudley in a mourning Cloak led the Widow;

... Were very many People, spectators out of windows, on Fences

and Trees, like Pigeons...."[181]

"July 25th, 1700. Went to the Funeral of Mrs. Sprague, being

invited by a good pair of Gloves."[182]

This comment is made upon the death of Judge Sewall's father:

"May 24th.... My Wife provided Mourning upon my Letter by Severs.

All went in mourning save Joseph, who staid at home because his

Mother lik'd not his cloaths...."[183]

"Febr. 1, 1700. Waited on the Lt. Govr. and presented him with a

Ring in Remembrance of my dear Mother, saying, Please to accept

in the Name of one of the Company your Honor is preparing to

go."[184]

"July 15, 1698.... On death of John Ive.... I was not at his

Funeral. Had Gloves sent me, but the knowledge of his notoriously

wicked life made me sick of going ... and so I staid at home, and

by that means lost a Ring...."[185]

"Friday, Feb. 10, 1687-8. Between 4 and 5 I went to the Funeral

of the Lady Andros, having been invited by the Clerk of the South

Company. Between 7 and 8 Lechus (Lynchs? i.e. links or torches)

illuminating the cloudy air. The Corps was carried into the Herse

drawn by Six Horses. The Souldiers making a Guard from the

Governour's House down the Prison Lane to the South

Meeting-house, there taken out and carried in at the western

dore, and set in the Alley before the pulpit, with Six Mourning

Women by it.... Was a great noise and clamor to keep people out

of the House, that might not rush in too soon.... On Satterday

Feb. 11, the mourning cloth of the Pulpit is taken off and given

to Mr. Willard."[186]

"Satterday, Nov. 12, 1687. About 5 P.M. Mrs. Elisa Saffen is

entombed.... Mother not invited."[187]

In the earlier days of the New England colonies the gift of scarfs,

gloves, and rings for such services was almost demanded by social

etiquette; but before Judge Sewall's death the custom was passing. The

following passages from his _Diary_ illustrate the change:

"Decr. 20, feria sexta.... Had a letter brought me of the Death

of Sister Shortt.... Not having other Mourning I look'd out a

pair of Mourning Gloves. An hour or 2 later Mr. Sergeant, sent me

and Wife Gloves; mine are so little I can't wear them."[188]

"August 7r 16, 1721. Mrs. Frances Webb is buried, who died of the

Small Pox. I think this is the first public Funeral without

Scarves...."[189]

The Puritans were not the only colonists to celebrate death with pomp

and ceremony; but no doubt the custom was far more nearly universal

among them than among the New Yorkers or Southerners. Still, in New

Amsterdam a funeral was by no means a simple or dreary affair; feasting,

exchange of gifts, and display were conspicuous elements at the burial

of the wealthy or aristocratic. The funeral of William Lovelace in 1689

may serve as an illustration:

"The room was draped with mourning and adorned with the escutcheons of

the family. At the head of the body was a pall of death's heads, and

above and about the hearse was a canopy richly embroidered, from the

centre of which hung a garland and an hour-glass. At the foot was a

gilded coat of arms, four feet square, and near by were candles and

fumes which were kept continually burning. At one side was placed a

cupboard containing plate to the value of £200. The funeral procession

was led by the captain of the company to which deceased belonged,

followed by the 'preaching minister,' two others of the clergy, and a

squire bearing the shield. Before the body, which was borne by six

'gentlemen bachelors,' walked two maidens in white silk, wearing gloves

and 'Cyprus scarves,' and behind were six others similarly attired,

bearing the pall.... Until ten o'clock at night wines, sweet-meats, and

biscuits were served to the mourners."[190]

_VI. Trials and Executions_

Whenever normal pleasures are withdrawn from a community that community

will undoubtedly indulge in abnormal ones. We should not be surprised,

therefore, to find that the Puritans had an itching for the details of

the morbid and the sensational. The nature of revelations seldom, if

ever, grew too repulsive for their hearing, and if the case were one of

adultery or incest, it was sure to be well aired. There was a

possibility that if an offender made a thorough-going confession before

the entire congregation or community, he might escape punishment, and on

such occasions it would seem that the congregation sat listening closely

and drinking in all the hideous facts and minutiæ. The good fathers in

their diaries and chronicles not only have mentioned the crimes and the

criminals, but have enumerated and described such details as fill a

modern reader with disgust. In fact, Winthrop in his _History of New

England_ has cited examples and circumstances so revolting that it is

impossible to quote them in a modern book intended for the general

public, and yet Winthrop himself seemed to see nothing wrong in offering

cold-bloodedly the exact data. Such indulgence in the morbid or _risque_

was not, however, limited to the New England colonists; it was entirely

too common in other sections; but among the Puritan writers it seemed to

offer an outlet for emotions that could not be dissipated otherwise in

legitimate social activities.

To-day the spectacle or even the very thought of a legal execution is so

horrible to many citizens that the state hedges such occasions about

with the utmost privacy and absence of publicity; but in the seventeenth

century the Puritan seems to have found considerable secret pleasure in

seeing how the victim faced eternity. Condemned criminals were taken to

church on the day of execution, and there the clergyman, dispensing with

the regular order of service, frequently consumed several hours

thundering anathema at the wretch and describing to him his awful crime

and the yawning pit of hell in which even then Satan and his imps were

preparing tortures. If the doomed man was able to face all this without

flinching, the audience went away disappointed, feeling that he was

hard-hearted, stubborn, "predestined to be damned"; but if with loud

lamentation and wails of terror he confessed his sin and his fear of

God's vengeance, his hearers were pleased and edified at the fall of one

more of the devil's agents. Often times a similar scene was enacted at

the gallows, where a host of men, women, and even children crowded close

to see and hear all. Judge Sewall has recorded for us just such an

event:

"Feria Sexta, June 30, 1704.... After Diner, about 3 P.M. I went to see

the Execution.... Many were the people that saw upon Bloughton's Hill.

But when I came to see how the River was cover'd with People, I was

amazed! Some say there were 100 Boats, 150 Boats and Canoes, saith

Cousin Moody of York. He told them. Mr. Cotton Mather came with Capt.

Quelch and six others for Execution from the Prison to Scarlet's Wharf,

and from thence.... When the scaffold was hoisted to a due height, the

seven Malefactors went up; Mr. Mather pray'd for them standing upon the

Boat. Ropes were all fasten'd to the Gallows (save King, who was

Repriev'd). When the Scaffold was let to sink, there was such a Schreech

of the Women that my wife heard it sitting in our Entry next the

Orchard, and was much surprised at it; yet the wind was sou-west. Our

house is a full mile from the place."[191]

This also from the kindly judge indicates the interest in the last

service for the condemned one:

"Thursday, March 11, 1685-6. Persons crowd much into the Old

Meeting-House by reason of James Morgan ... and before I got thither a

crazed woman cryed the Gallery of Meetinghouse broke, which made the

people rush out, with great Consternation, a great part of them, but

were seated again.... Morgan was turned off about 1/2 hour past five.

The day very comfortable, but now 9 o'clock rains and has done a good

while.... Mr. Cotton Mather accompanied James Morgan to the place of

Execution, and prayed with him there."[192]

It would seem that the Puritan woman might have used her influence by

refusing to attend such assemblies. Let us not, however, be too severe

on her; perhaps, if such a confession were scheduled for a day in our

twentieth century the confessor might not face empty seats, or simply

seats occupied by men only. In our day, moreover, with its multitude of

amusements, there would be far less excuse; for the monotony of life in

the old days must have set nerves tingling for something just a little

unusual, and such barbarous occasions were among the few opportunities.

Gradually amusements of a more normal type began to creep into the New

England fold. Judge Sewall makes the following comment: "Tuesday, Jan.

7, 1719. The Govr has a ball at his own House that lasts to 3 in the

Morn;"[193] but he does not make an additional note of his

attending--sure proof that he did not go. Doubtless the hour of closing

seemed to him scandalous. Then, too, early in the eighteenth century the

dancing master invaded Boston, and doubtless many of the older members

of the Puritan families were shocked at the alacrity with which the

younger folk took to this sinful art. It must have been a genuine

satisfaction to Sewall to note in 1685 that "Francis Stepney, the

Dancing Master, runs away for Debt. Several Attachments out after

him."[194] But scowl at it as the older people did, they had to

recognize the fact that by 1720 large numbers of New England children

were learning the graceful, old-fashioned dances of the day, and that,

too, with the consent of the parents.

_VII. Special "Social" Days_

"Lecture Day," generally on Thursday, was another means of breaking the

monotony of New England colonial existence. It resembled the Sabbath in

that there was a meeting and a sermon at the church, and very little

work done either on farm or in town. Commonly banns were published then,

and condemned prisoners preached to or at. For instance, Sewall notes:

"Feb. 23, 1719-20. Mr. Cooper comes in, and sits with me, and asks that

he may be published; Next Thorsday was talk'd of, at last, the first

Thorsday in March was consented to."[195] On Lecture Day, as well as on

the Sabbath, the beautiful custom was followed of posting a note or bill

in the house of God, requesting the prayers of friends for the sick or

afflicted, and many a fervent petition arose to God on such occasions.

Several times Sewall refers to such requests, and frequently indeed he

felt the need of such prayers for himself and his.

"Satterday, Augt. 15. Hambleton and my Sister Watch (his eldest daughter

was ill). I get up before 2 in the Morning of the L(ecture) Day, and

hearing an earnest expostulation of my daughter, I went down and finding

her restless, call'd up my wife.... I put up this Note at the Old (First

Church) and South, 'Prayers are desired for Hanah Sewall as drawing Near

her end.'"[196]

And when his wife was ill, he wrote: "Oct. 17, 1717. Thursday, I asked

my wife whether 'twere best for me to go to Lecture: She said, I can't

tell: so I staid at home. Put up a Note.... It being my Son's Lecture,

and I absent, twas taken much notice of."[197]

As the editor of the famous _Diary_ comments: "Judge Sewall very seldom

allowed any private trouble or sorrow, and he never allowed any matter

of private business, to prevent his attendance upon 'Meeting,' either on

the Lord's Day, or the Thursday Lecture. On this day, on account of the

alarming illness of his wife--which proved to be fatal--he remains with

her, furnishing his son, who was to preach, with a 'Note' to be 'put

up,' asking the sympathetic prayers of the congregation in behalf of the

family. He is touched and gratified on learning how much feeling was

manifested on the occasion. The incident is suggestive of one of the

beautiful customs once recognized in all the New England churches, in

town and country, where all the members of a congregation, knit together

by ties and sympathies of a common interest, had a share in each other's

private and domestic experiences of joy and sorrow."

Such customs added to the social solidarity of the people, and gave each

New England community a neighborliness not excelled in the far more

vari-colored life of the South. Fast days and days of prayer, observed

for thanks, for deliverance from some danger or affliction, petitions

for aid in an hour of impending disaster, or even simply as a means of

bringing the soul nearer to God, were also agencies in the social

welfare of the early colonists and did much to keep alive community

spirit and co-operation. Turning again to Sewall, we find him recording

a number of such special days:

"Wednesday, Oct. 3rd, 1688. Have a day of Prayer at our House;

One principal reason as to particular, about my going for

England. Mr. Willard pray'd and preach'd excellently....

Intermission. Mr. Allen pray'd, and then Mr. Moodey, both very

well, then 3d-7th verses of the 86th Ps., sung Cambridge Short

Tune, which I set...."[198]

"Febr. 12. I pray'd God to accept me in keeping a privat day of

Prayer with Fasting for That and other Important Matters: ...

Perfect what is lacking in my Faith, and in the faith of my dear

Yokefellow. Convert my children; especially Samuel and Hanah;

Provide Rest and Settlement for Hanah; Recover Mary, Save Judity,

Elisabeth and Joseph: Requite the Labour of Love of my Kinswoman,

Jane Tappin, Give her health, find out Rest for her. Make David a

man after thy own heart, Let Susan live and be baptised with the

Holy Ghost, and with fire...."[199]

"Third-day, Augt. 13, 1695. We have a Fast kept in our new

Chamber...."[200]

In New England Thanksgiving and Christmas were observed at first only to

a very slight extent, and not at all with the regularity and ceremony

common to-day. In the South, Christmas was celebrated without fail with

much the same customs as those known in "Merrie Old England"; but among

the earlier Puritans a large number frowned upon such special days as

inclining toward Episcopal and Popish ceremonials, and many a Christmas

passed with scarcely a notice. Bradford in his so-called _Log-Book_

gives us this description of such lack of observance of the day:

"The day called Christmas Day ye Govr cal'd them out to worke (as was

used) but ye moste of this new company excused themselves, and said yt

went against their consciences to work on yt day. So ye Govr tould them

that if they made it mater of conscience, he would spare them till they

were better informed. So he led away ye rest and left them; but when

they came home at noon from their work he found them in ye street at

play openly, some pitching ye bar, and some at stool-ball and such like

sports. So he went to them and took away their implements and tould them

it was against his conscience that they should play and others work."

And Sewall doubtless would have agreed with "ye Govr"; for he notes:

"Dec. 25, 1717. Snowy Cold Weather; Shops open as could be for

the Storm; Hay, wood and all sorts of provisions brought to

Town."[201]

"Dec. 25, Friday, 1685. Carts come to Town and shops open as is

usual. Some somehow observe the day; but are vexed I believe that

the body of the people profane it, and blessed be God no

authority yet to Compell them to keep it."[202]

"Tuesday, Decr. 25, 1722-3. Shops are open, and Carts came to

Town with Wood, Hoop-Poles, Hay & as at other Times; being a

pleasant day, the street was fill'd with Carts and Horses."[203]

"Midweek, Decr. 25, 1718-9. Shops are open, Hay, Hoop-poles,

Wood, Faggots, Charcole, Meat brought to Town."[204]

Nearly a century later all that Judge Pynchon records is:

"Fryday, December 25, 1778. Christmas. Cold continued."[205]

"Monday, December 25, 1780. Christmas, and rainy. Dined at Mr.

Wetmore's (his daughter's home) with Mr. Goodale and family, John

and Patty. Mr. Barnard and Prince at church; the music good, and

Dr. Steward's voice above all."[206]

All that Sewall has to say about Thanksgiving is: "Thorsday, Novr. 25.

Public Thanksgiving,"[207] and again: "1714. Novr. 25. Thanks-giving

day; very cold, but not so sharp as yesterday. My wife was sick, fain to

keep the Chamber and not be at Diner."

_VIII. Social Restrictions_

Many of the restraints imposed by Puritan lawmakers upon the ordinary

hospitality and cordial overtures of citizens seem ridiculous to a

modern reader; but perhaps the "fathers in Israel" considered such

strictness essential for the preservation of the saints. Josselyn

travelling in New England in 1638, observed in his _New England's

Rareties_ their customs rather keenly, criticized rather severely some

of their views, and commended just as heartily some of their virtues.

"They that are members of their churches have the sacraments

administered to them, the rest that are out of the pale as they phrase

it are denied it. Many hundred souls there be amongst them grown up to

men and women's estate that were never christened.... There are many

strange women too, (in Solomon's sense), more the pity; when a woman

hath lost her chastity she hath no more to lose. There are many sincere

and religious people amongst them.... They have store of children and

are well accommodated with servants; many hands make light work, many

hands make a full fraught, but many mouths eat up all, as some old

planters have experienced."

Approximately a century later the keen-eyed Sarah Knight visited New

Haven, and commented in her _Journal_ upon the growing laxity of rules

and customs among the people of the quaint old town:

"They are governed by the same laws as we in Boston (or little

differing), throughout this whole colony of Connecticut ... but a

little too much independent in their principles, and, as I have

been told, were formerly in their zeal very rigid in their

administrations towards such as their laws made offenders, even

to a harmless kiss or innocent merriment among young people....

They generally marry very young: the males oftener, as I am told,

under twenty than above: they generally make public weddings, and

have a way something singular (as they say) in some of them,

viz., just before joining hands the bride-groom quits the place,

who is soon followed by the bridesmen, and as it were dragged

back to duty--being the reverse to the former practice among us,

to steal mistress bride....

"They (the country women) generally stand after they come in a

great while speechless, and sometimes don't say a word till they

are asked what they want, which I impute to the awe they stand in

of the merchants, who they are constantly almost indebted to; and

must take that they bring without liberty to choose for

themselves; but they serve them as well, making the merchants

stay long enough for their pay...."

But even as late as 1780 Samuel Peters states in his _General History of

Connecticut_ that he found the restrictions in Connecticut so severe

that he was forced to state that "dancing, fishing, hunting, skating,

and riding in sleighs on the ice are all the amusements allowed in this

colony."

In Massachusetts for many years in the seventeenth century a wife, in

the absence of her husband, was not allowed to lodge men even if they

were close relatives. Naturally such an absurd law was the source of

much bickering on the part of magistrates, and many were the amusing

tilts when a wife was not permitted to remain with her father, but had

to be sent home to her husband, or a brother was compelled to leave his

own sister's house. Of course, we may turn successfully to Sewall's

_Diary_ for an example: "Mid-week, May 12, 1714. Went to Brewster's. The

Anchor in the Plain; ... took Joseph Brewster for our guide, and went to

Town. Essay'd to be quarter'd at Mr. Knight's, but he not being at home,

his wife refused us."[208] When a judge, himself, was refused ordinary

hospitality, we may surmise that the law was rather strictly followed.

But many other rules of the day seem just as ridiculous to a modern

reader. As Weeden in his _Economic and Social History of New England_

says of restrictions in 1650:

"No one could run on the Sabbath day, or walk in his garden or

elsewhere, except reverently to and from meeting. No one should

travel, cook victuals, make beds, sweep house, cut hair, or shave

on the Sabbath day. No woman should kiss her child on the Sabbath

or fasting day. Whoever brought cards into the dominion paid a

fine of £5. No one could make minced pies, dance, play cards, or

play on any instrument of music, except the drum, trumpet, and

jews-harp.

"None under 21 years, nor any not previously accustomed to it,

shall take tobacco without a physician's certificate. No one

shall take it publicly in the street, or the fields, or the

woods, except on a journey of at least ten miles, or at dinner.

Nor shall any one take it in any house in his own town with more

than one person taking it at the same time."[209]

We must not, however, reach the conclusion that life in old New England

was a dreary void as far as pleasures were concerned. Under the

discussion of home life we have seen that there were barn-raisings,

log-rolling contests, quilting and paring bees, and numerous other forms

of community efforts in which considerable levity was countenanced.

Earle's _Home Life in Colonial Days_ copies an account written in 1757,

picturing another form of entertainment yet popular in the rural

districts:

"Made a husking Entertainm't. Possibly this leafe may last a Century and

fall into the hands of some inquisitive Person for whose Entertainm't I

will inform him that now there is a Custom amongst us of making an

Entertainm't at husking of Indian Corn where to all the neighboring

Swains are invited and after the Corn is finished they like the

Hottentots give three Cheers or huzza's, but cannot carry in the husks

without a Rhum bottle; they feign great Exertion but do nothing till

Rhum enlivens them, when all is done in a trice, then after a hearty

Meal about 10 at Night they go to their pastimes."[210]

_IX. Dutch Social Life_

In New York, among the Dutch, social pleasures were, of course, much

less restricted; indeed their community life had the pleasant

familiarity of one large family. Mrs. Grant in her _Memoirs of an

American Lady_ pictures the almost sylvan scene in the quaint old town,

and the quiet domestic happiness so evident on every hand:

"Every house had its garden, well, and a little green behind; before

every door a tree was planted, rendered interesting by being co-eval

with some beloved member of the family; many of their trees were of a

prodigious size and extraordinary beauty, but without regularity, every

one planting the kind that best pleased with him, or which he thought

would afford the most agreeable shade to the open portion at his door,

which was surrounded by seats, and ascended by a few steps. It was in

these that each domestic group was seated in summer evenings to enjoy

the balmy twilight or the serenely clear moon light. Each family had a

cow, fed in a common pasture at the end of the town. In the evening the

herd returned all together ... with their tinkling bells ... along the

wide and grassy street to their wonted sheltering trees, to be milked at

their master's doors. Nothing could be more pleasing to a simple and

benevolent mind than to see thus, at one view, all the inhabitants of

the town, which contained not one very rich or very poor, very knowing,

or very ignorant, very rude, or very polished, individual; to see all

these children of nature enjoying in easy indolence or social

intercourse,

'The cool, the fragrant, and the dusky hour,'

clothed in the plainest habits, and with minds as undisguised and

artless.... At one door were young matrons, at another the elders of the

people, at a third the youths and maidens, gaily chatting or singing

together while the children played round the trees."[211]

With little learning save the knowledge of how to enjoy life, under no

necessity of pretending to enjoy a false culture, conforming to no false

values and artificialities, these simple-hearted people went their quiet

round of daily duties, took a normal amount of pleasure, and in their

old-fashioned way, probably lived more than any modern devotee of the

Wall Street they knew so well. Madam Knight in her _Journal_ comments

upon them in this fashion: "Their diversion in the winter is riding

sleighs about three or four miles out of town, where they have houses of

entertainment at a place called the Bowery, and some go to friends'

houses, who handsomely treat them. Mr. Burroughs carried his spouse and

daughter and myself out to one Madam Dowes, a gentlewoman that lived at

a farm house, who gave us a handsome entertainment of five or six

dishes, and choice beer and metheglin cider, etc., all of which she said

was the produce of her farm. I believe we met fifty or sixty sleighs;

they fly with great swiftness, and some are so furious that they will

turn out of the path for none except a loaded cart. Nor do they spare

for any diversion the place affords, and sociable to a degree, their

tables being as free to their neighbors as to themselves."

And Mrs. Grant has this to say of their love of children and

flowers--probably the most normal loves in the human soul: "Not only the

training of children, but of plants, such as needed peculiar care or

skill to rear them, was the female province.... I have so often beheld,

both in town and country, a respectable mistress of a family going out

to her garden, in an April morning, with her great calash, her little

painted basket of seeds, and her rake over her shoulder to her garden

labors.... A woman in very easy circumstances and abundantly gentle in

form and manner would sow and plant and rake incessantly. These fair

gardners were also great florists."[212]

Doubtless the whole world has heard of that other Dutch love--for good

things on the table. This epicurean trait perhaps has been exaggerated;

Mrs. Grant herself had her doubts at first; but she, like most visitors,

soon realized that a Dutchman's "tea" was a fair banquet. Hear again her

own words:

"They were exceedingly social, and visited each other frequently,

besides the regular assembling together in their porches every

evening.

"If you went to spend a day anywhere, you were received in a

manner we should think very cold. No one rose to welcome you; no

one wondered you had not come sooner, or apologized for any

deficiency in your entertainment. Dinner, which was very early,

was served exactly in the same manner as if there were only the

family. The house was so exquisitely neat and well regulated that

you could not surprise these people; they saw each other so often

and so easily that intimates made no difference. Of strangers

they were shy; not by any means of want of hospitality, but from

a consciousness that people who had little to value themselves on

but their knowledge of the modes and ceremonies of polished life

disliked their sincerity and despised their simplicity....

"Tea was served in at a very early hour. And here it was that the

distinction shown to strangers commenced. Tea here was a perfect

regale, being served up with various sorts of cakes unknown to

us, cold pastry, and great quantities of sweet meats and

preserved fruits of various kinds, and plates of hickory and

other nuts ready cracked. In all manner of confectionery and

pastry these people excelled."[213]

To the Puritan this manner of living evidently seemed ungodly, and

perhaps the citizens of New Amsterdam were a trifle lax not only in

their appetite for the things of this world, but also in their

indifference toward the Sabbath. As Madam Knight observes in her

_Journal_: "There are also Dutch and divers conventicles, as they call

them, viz., Baptist, Quaker, etc. They are not strict in keeping the

Sabbath, as in Boston and other places where I had been, but seemed to

deal with exactness as far as I see or deal with."

But the kindly sociableness of these Dutch prevented any decidedly

vicious tendency among them, and went far toward making amends for any

real or supposed laxity in religious principles. Even as children, this

social nature was consciously trained among them, and so closely did the

little ones become attached to one another that marriage meant not at

all the abrupt change and departure from former ways that it is rather

commonly considered to mean to-day. Says Mrs. Grant:

"The children of the town were all divided into companies, as they

called them, from five or six years of age, till they became

marriageable. How these companies first originated or what were their

exact regulations, I cannot say; though I belonging to nine occasionally

mixed with several, yet always as a stranger, notwithstanding that I

spoke their current language fluently. Every company contained as many

boys as girls. But I do not know that there was any limited number; only

this I recollect, that a boy and girl of each company, who were older,

cleverer, or had some other pre-eminence above the rest, were called

heads of the company, and, as such, were obeyed by the others.... Each

company, at a certain time of the year, went in a body to gather a

particular kind of berries, to the hill. It was a sort of annual

festival, attended with religious punctuality.... Every child was

permitted to entertain the whole company on its birthday, and once

besides, during the winter and spring. The master and mistress of the

family always were bound to go from home on these occasions, while some

old domestic was left to attend and watch over them, with an ample

provision of tea, chocolate, preserved and dried fruits, nuts and cakes

of various kinds, to which was added cider, or a syllabub.... The

consequence of these exclusive and early intimacies was that, grown up,

it was reckoned a sort of apostacy to marry out of one's company, and

indeed it did not often happen. The girls, from the example of their

mothers, rather than any compulsion, very early became notable and

industrious, being constantly employed in knitting stockings and making

clothes for the family and slaves; they even made all the boys'

clothes."[214]

Childhood in New England meant, as we have seen, a good deal of

down-right hard toil; in Virginia, for the better class child, it meant

much dressing in dainty clothes, and much care about manners and

etiquette; but the Dutch childhood and even young manhood and womanhood

meant an unusual amount of carefree, whole-hearted, simple pleasure.

There were picnics in the summer, nut gatherings in the Autumn, and

skating and sleighing in the winter.

"In spring eight or ten of one company, young men and maidens,

would set out together in a canoe on a kind of rural

excursion.... They went without attendants.... They arrived

generally by nine or ten o'clock.... The breakfast, a very

regular and cheerful one, occupied an hour or two; the young men

then set out to fish or perhaps to shoot birds, and the maidens

sat busily down to their work.... After the sultry hours had been

thus employed, the boys brought their tribute from the river....

After dinner they all set out together to gather wild

strawberries, or whatever fruit was in season; for it was

accounted a reproach to come home empty-handed...."

"The young parties, or some times the elder ones, who set out on

this woodland excursion had no fixed destination, ... when they

were tired of going on the ordinary road, they turned into the

bush, and wherever they saw an inhabited spot ... they went into

it with all the ease of intimacy.... The good people, not in the

least surprised at this intrusion, very calmly opened the

reserved apartments.... After sharing with each other their food,

dancing or any other amusement that struck their fancy succeeded.

They sauntered about the bounds in the evening, and returned by

moonlight...."

"In winter the river ... formed the principal road through the

country, and was the scene of all these amusements of skating and

sledge races common to the north of Europe. They used in great

parties to visit their friends at a distance, and having an

excellent and hearty breed of horses, flew from place to place

over the snow or ice in these sledges with incredible rapidity,

stopping a little while at every house they came to, where they

were always well received, whether acquainted with the owners or

not. The night never impeded these travellers, for the atmosphere

was so pure and serene, and the snow so reflected the moon and

starlight, that the nights exceeded the days in beauty."[215]

All this meant so much more for the growth of normal children and the

creation of a cheerful people than did the Puritan attendance at

executions and funerals. Those quaint old-time Dutch probably did not

love children any more dearly than did the New Englanders; but they

undoubtedly made more display of it than did the Puritans. "Orphans were

never neglected.... You never entered a house without meeting children.

Maidens, bachelors, and childless married people all adopted orphans,

and all treated them as if they were their own."[216]

Since we have mentioned such subjects as funerals and orphans, perhaps

it would not be out of place to notice the peculiar funeral customs

among the Dutch. Even a burial was not so dreary an affair with them.

The following bill of 1763, found among the Schuyler papers, gives a

hint of the manner in which the service was conducted, and perhaps

explains why the women scarcely ever attended the funeral in the "dead

room," as it was called, but remained in an upper room, where they could

at least hear what was said, if they could not "partake" of the

occasion.

"Tobacco 2.

Fonda for Pipes 14s.

2 casks wine 69 gal. 11.

12 yds. Cloath 6.

2 barrels strong beer 3.

To spice from Dr. Stringer

To the porters 2s.

12 yds. Bombazine 5. 17s.

2 Tammise 1.

1 Barcelona handkerchief 10s.

2 pr. black chamios Gloves

6 yds. crape

5 ells Black Shalloon

Paid Mr. Benson his fee for opinion on will £9."[217a]

Certainly the custom of making the funeral as pleasant as possible for

the visitors had not passed away even as late as the days of the

Revolution; for during that war Tench Tilghman wrote the following

description of a burial service attended by him in New York City: "This

morning I attended the funeral of old Mr. Doer.... This was something

in a stile new to me. The Corpse was carried to the Grave and interred

with out any funeral Ceremony, the Clergy attended. We then returned to

the home of the Deceased where we found many tables set out with

Bottles, cool Tankards, Candles, Pipes & Tobacco. The Company sat

themselves down and lighted their Pipes and handed the Bottles &

Tankards pretty briskly. Some of them I think rather too much so. I

fancy the undertakers had borrowed all the silver plate of the

neighborhood. Tankards and Candle Sticks were all silver plated."[217b]

_X. British Social Influences_

With the increase of the English population New York began to depart

from its normal, quiet round of social life, and entered into far more

flashy, but far less healthful forms of pleasure. There was wealth in

the old city before the British flocked to it, and withal an atmosphere

of plenty and peaceful enjoyment of life. The description of the

Schuyler residence, "The Flatts," presented in Grant's _Memoirs_,

probably indicates at its best the home life of the wealthier natives,

and gives hints of a wholesome existence which, while not showy, was

full of comfort:

"It was a large brick house of two, or rather three stories (for

there were excellent attics), besides a sunk story.... The lower

floor had two spacious rooms, ... on the first there were three

rooms, and in the upper one, four. Through the middle of the

house was a very wide passage, with opposite front and back

doors, which in summer admitted a stream of air peculiarly

grateful to the languid senses. It was furnished with chairs and

pictures like a summer parlor.... There was at the side a large

portico, with a few steps leading up to it, and floored like a

room; it was open at the sides and had seats all round. Above was

... a slight wooden roof, painted like an awning, or a covering

of lattice work, over which a transplanted wild vine spread its

luxuriant leaves...."

"At the back of the large house was a smaller and lower one, so

joined to it as to make the form of a cross. There one or two

lower and smaller rooms below, and the same number above,

afforded a refuge to the family during the rigors of winter, when

the spacious summer rooms would have been intolerably cold, and

the smoke of prodigious wood fires would have sullied the

elegantly clean furniture."[218]

But before 1760, as indicated above, the English element in New York was

making itself felt, and a curious mingling of gaiety and economy began

to be noticeable. William Smith, writing in his _History of the Province

of New York_, in 1757, points this out:

"In the city of New York, through our intercourse with the

Europeans, we follow the London fashions; though, by the time we

adopt them, they become disused in England. Our affluence during

the late war introduced a degree of luxury in tables, dress, and

furniture, with which we were before unacquainted. But still we

are not so gay a people as our neighbors in Boston and several of

the Southern colonies. The Dutch counties, in some measure,

follow the example of New York, but still retain many modes

peculiar to the Hollanders."

"New York is one of the most social places on the continent. The

men collect themselves into weekly evening clubs. The ladies in

winter are frequently entertained either at concerts of music or

assemblies, and make a very good appearance. They are comely and

dress well...."

"Tinctured with the Dutch education, they manage their families

with becoming parsimony, good providence, and singular neatness.

The practice of extravagant gaming, common to the fashionable

part of the fair sex in some places, is a vice with which my

country women cannot justly be charged. There is nothing they so

generally neglect as reading, and indeed all the arts for the

improvement of the mind--in which, I confess we have set them the

example. They are modest, temperate, and charitable, naturally

sprightly, sensible, and good-humored; and, by the helps of a

more elevated education, would possess all the accomplishments

desirable in the sex."

With the coming of the Revolution, and the consequent invasion of the

city by the British, New York became far more gay than ever before; but

even then the native Dutch conservativeness so restrained social affairs

that Philadelphia was more brilliant. When, however, the capital of the

national government was located in New York then indeed did the city

shine. Foreigners spoke with astonishment at the display of luxury and

down-right extravagance. Brissot de Warville, for example, writing in

1788, declared: "If there is a town on the American continent where

English luxury displays its follies, it is New York." And James

Pintard, after attending a New Year levee, given by Mrs. Washington,

wrote his sister: "You will see no such formal bows at the Court of St.

James." If we may judge by the dress of ladies attending such

gatherings, as one described in the _New York Gazette_ of May 15, 1789,

we may safely conclude that expense was not spared in the upper classes

of society. Hear some descriptions:

"A plain celestial blue satin with a white satin petticoat. On

the neck a very large Italian gauze handkerchief with white satin

stripes. The head-dress was a puff of gauze in the form of a

globe on a foundation of white satin, having a double wing in

large plaits, with a wreath of roses twined about it. The hair

was dressed with detached curls, four each side of the neck and a

floating _chignon_ behind."

"Another was a periot made of gray Indian taffetas with dark

stripes of the same color with two collars, one white, one yellow

with blue silk fringe, having a reverse trimmed in the same

manner. Under the periot was a yellow corset of cross blue

stripes. Around the bosom of the periot was a frill of white

vandyked gauze of the same form covered with black gauze which

hangs in streamers down her back. Her hair behind is a large

braid with a monstrous crooked comb."

We cannot say that the society of the new capital was notable for its

intellect or for the intellectual turn of its activities. John Adams'

daughter declared that it was "quite enough dissipated," and indeed

costly dress, card playing, and dancing seem to have received an undue

amount of society's attention. The Philadelphia belle, Miss Franks,

wrote home: "Here you enter a room with a formal set courtesy, and after

the 'How-dos' things are finished, all a dead calm until cards are

introduced when you see pleasure dancing in the eyes of all the matrons,

and they seem to gain new life; the maidens decline for the pleasure of

making love. Here it is always leap year. For my part I am used to

another style of behavior." And, continues Miss Franks: "They (the

Philadelphia girls) have more cleverness in the turn of the eye than

those of New York in their whole composition." But blunt, old Governor

Livingston, on the other hand, wrote his daughter Kitty that "the

Philadelphia flirts are equally famous for their want of modesty and

want of patriotism in their over-complacence to red coats, who would not

conquer the men of the country, but everywhere they have taken the women

almost without a trial--damm them."[219]

But there can be no doubt that the whirl of life was a little too giddy

in New York, during the last years of the eighteenth century; and that,

as a visiting Frenchman declared: "Luxury is already forming in this

city, a very dangerous class of men, namely, the bachelors, the

extravagance of the women makes them dread marriage."[220] As mentioned

above, there was much card playing among the women, and on the then

fashionable John Street married women sometimes lost as high as $400 in

a single evening of gambling. To some of the older men who had suffered

the hardships of war that the new nation might be born, such frivolity

and extravagance seemed almost a crime, and doubtless these veterans

would have agreed with Governor Livingston when he complained: "My

principal Secretary of State, who is one of my daughters, has gone to

New York to shake her heels at the balls and assemblies of a metropolis

which might be better employed, more studious of taxes than of

instituting expensive diversions."[221]

_XI. Causes of Display and Frivolity_

What else could be expected, for the time being at least? For, the war

over, the people naturally reacted from the dreary period of hardships

and suspense to a period of luxury and enjoyment. Moreover, here was a

new nation, and the citizens of the capital felt impelled to uphold the

dignity of the new commonwealth by some display of riches, brilliance,

and power. Then, too, the first President of the young nation was not

niggardly in dress or expenditure, and his contemporaries felt,

naturally enough, that they must meet him at least half way. Washington

apparently was a believer in dignified appearances, and there was

frequently a wealth of livery attending his coach. A story went the

round, no doubt in an exaggerated form, that shows perhaps too much

punctiliousness on the part of the Father of His Country:

"The night before the famous white chargers were to be used they were

covered with a white paste, swathed in body clothes, and put to sleep on

clean straw. In the morning this paste was rubbed in, and the horses

brushed until their coats shone. The hoofs were then blacked and

polished, the mouths washed, and their teeth picked. It is related that

after this grooming the master of the stables was accustomed to flick

over their coats a clean muslin handkerchief, and if this revealed a

speck of dust the stable man was punished."[222]

Perhaps Washington himself rather enjoyed the stateliness and a certain

aloofness in his position; but to Martha Washington, used to the freedom

of social mingling on the Virginia plantation, the conditions were

undoubtedly irksome. "I lead," she wrote, "a very dull life and know

nothing that passes in the town. I never go to any public place--indeed

I think I am more like a state prisoner than anything else, there is a

certain bound set for me which I must not depart from and as I cannot

doe as I like I am obstinate and stay home a great deal." To some of the

more democratic patriots all this dignity and formality and display were

rather disgusting, and some did not hesitate to express themselves in

rather sarcastic language about the customs. For instance, gruff old

Senator Maclay of Pennsylvania, who was not a lover of Washington

anyway, recorded in his _Journal_ his impressions of one of the

President's decidedly formal dinners:

"First was the soup; fish roasted and boiled; meats, gammon

(smoked ham), fowls, etc. This was the dinner. The middle of the

table was garnished in the usual tasty way, with small images,

artificial flowers, etc. The dessert was first apple-pies,

pudding, etc., then iced creams, jellies, etc., then

water-melons, musk-melons, apples, peaches, nuts.... The

President and Mrs. Washington sat opposite each other in the

middle of the table; the two secretaries, one at each end....

"It was the most solemn dinner ever I sat at. Not a health

drank, scarce a word said until the cloth was taken away. Then

the President, filling a glass of wine, with great formality

drank to the health of every individual by name around the table.

Everybody imitated him and changed glasses and such a buzz of

'health, sir,' and 'health, madam,' and 'thank you, sir,' and

'thank you, madam' never had I heard before.... The ladies sat a

good while and the bottles passed about; but there was a dead

silence almost. Mrs. Washington at last withdrew with the ladies.

"I expected the men would now begin but the same stillness

remained. He (the President) now and then said a sentence or two

on some common subject and what he said was not amiss. Mr. Jay

tried to make a laugh by mentioning the Duchess of Devonshire

leaving no stone unturned to carry Fox's election. There was a

Mr. Smith who mentioned how _Homer_ described Æneas leaving his

wife and carrying his father out of flaming Troy. He had heard

somebody (I suppose) witty on the occasion; but if he had ever

read it he would have said _Virgil_. The President kept a fork in

his hand, when the cloth was taken away, I thought for the

purpose of picking nuts. He ate no nuts, however, but played with

the fork, striking on the edge of the table with it. We did not

sit long after the ladies retired. The President rose, went

up-stairs to drink coffee; the company followed. I took my hat

and came home."

After all, it was well that our first President and his lady were

believers in a reasonable amount of formality and dignity. They

established a form of social etiquette and an insistence on certain

principles of high-bred procedure genuinely needed in a country the

tendency of which was toward a crude display of raw, hail-fellow-well-met

democracy. With an Andrew Jackson type of man as its first President,

our country would soon have been the laughing stock of nations, and

could never have gained that prestige which neither wealth nor power can

bring, but which is obtained only through evidences of genuine

civilization and culture. As Wharton says in her _Martha Washington_:

"An executive mansion presided over by a man and woman who combined with

the most ardent patriotism a dignity, elegance, and moderation that

would have graced the court of any Old World sovereign, saved the social

functions of the new nation from the crudeness and bald simplicity of

extreme republicanism, as well as from the luxury and excess that often

mark the sudden elevation to power and place of those who have spent

their early years in obscurity."[223]

Even after the removal of the capital from New York the city was still

the scene of unabated gaiety. Elizabeth Southgate, who became the wife

of Walter Bowne, mayor of the metropolis, left among her letters the

following bits of helpful description of the city pastimes and

fashionable life: "Last night we were at the play--'The Way to Get

Married.' Mr. Hodgkinson in _Tangen_ is inimitable. Mrs. Johnson, a

sweet, interesting actress, in _Julia_, and Jefferson, a great comic

player, were all that were particularly pleasing.... I have been to two

of the gardens: Columbia, near the Battery--a most romantic, beautiful

place--'tis enclosed in a circular form and little rooms and boxes all

around--with tables and chairs--these full of company.... They have a

fine orchestra, and have concerts here sometimes.... We went on to the

Battery--this is a large promonade by the shore of the North River--very

extensive; rows and clusters of trees in every part, and a large walk

along the shore, almost over the water.... Here too, they have music

playing on the water in boats of a moonlight night. Last night we went

to a garden a little out of town--Mount Vernon Garden. This, too, is

surrounded by boxes of the same kind, with a walk on top of them--you

can see the gardens all below--but 'tis a summer play-house--pit and

boxes, stage and all, but open on top."

_XII. Society in Philadelphia_

As has been indicated, New York was not the only center of brilliant

social activity in colonial America. Philadelphia laid claim to having

even more charming society and vastly more "exclusive" social functions,

and it is undoubtedly true that for some years before the war, and even

after New York became the capital, Philadelphia "set the social pace."

And, when the capital was removed to the Quaker City, there was indeed a

brilliance in society that would have compared not unfavorably with the

best in England during the same years. Unfortunately few magazine

articles or books picturing the life in the city at that time remain;

but from diaries, journals, and letters we may gain many a hint. Before

and during the Revolution there were at Philadelphia numerous wealthy

Tory families, who loved the lighter side of life, and when the town was

occupied by the British these pro-British citizens offered a welcome

both extended and expensive. As Wharton says in her _Through Colonial

Doorways_:

"The Quaker City had, at the pleasure of her conqueror, doffed her

sober drab and appeared in festal array.... The best that the city

afforded was at the disposal of the enemy, who seem to have spent their

days in feasting and merry-making, while Washington and his army endured

all the hardships of the severe winter of 1777-8 upon the bleak

hill-sides of Valley Forge. Dancing assemblies, theatrical

entertainments, and various gaieties marked the advent of the British in

Philadelphia, all of which formed a fitting prelude to the full-blown

glories of the Meschianza, which burst upon the admiring inhabitants on

that last-century May day."[224]

This, however, was not a sudden outburst of reckless joy on the part of

the Philadelphians; for long before the coming of Howe the wealthier

families had given social functions that delighted and astonished

foreign visitors. We are sure that as early as 1738 dancing was taught

by Theobald Hackett, who offered to instruct in "all sorts of

fashionable English and French dances, after the newest and politest

manner practiced in London, Dublin, and Paris, and to give to young

ladies, gentlemen, and children, the most graceful carriage in dancing

and genteel behaviour in company that can possibly be given by any

dancing master, whatever."

Before the middle of the eighteenth century balls, or "dancing

assemblies" had become popular in Philadelphia, and, being sanctioned by

no less authority than the Governor himself, were frequented by the best

families of the city. In a letter by an influential clergyman, Richard

Peters, we find this reference to such fashionable meetings: "By the

Governor's encouragement there has been a very handsome assembly once a

fortnight at Andrew Hamilton's house and stores, which are tenanted by

Mr. Inglis (and) make a set of rooms for such a purpose and consist of

eight ladies and as many gentlemen, one half appearing every Assembly

Night." There were a good many strict rules regulating the conduct of

these balls, among them being one that every meeting should begin

promptly at six and close at twelve. The method of obtaining admission

is indicated in the following notice from the _Pennsylvania Journal_ of

1771: "The Assembly will be opened this evening, and as the receiving

money at the door has been found extremely inconvenient, the managers

think it necessary to give the public notice that no person will be

admitted without a ticket from the directors which (through the

application of a subscriber) may be had of either of the managers."

As card-playing was one of the leading pastimes of the day, rooms were

set aside at these dancing assemblies for those who preferred "brag" and

other fashionable games with cards. But far the greater number preferred

to dance, and to those who did, the various figures and steps were

seemingly a rather serious matter, not to be looked upon as a source of

mere amusement. The Marquis de Chastellux has left us a description of

one of these assemblies attended by him during the Revolution, and, if

his words are true, such affairs called for rather concentrated

attention:

"A manager or master of ceremonies presides at these methodical

amusements; he presents to the gentlemen and ladies dancers billets

folded up containing each a number; thus, fate decided the male or

female partner for the whole evening. All the dances are previously

arranged and the dancers are called in their turns. These dances, like

the toasts we drink at table, have some relation to politics; one is

called the Success of the Campaign, another the Defeat of Burgoyne, and

a third Clinton's Retreat.... Colonel Mitchell was formerly the manager,

but when I saw him he had descended from the magistracy and danced like

a private citizen. He is said to have exercised his office with great

severity, and it is told of him that a young lady who was figuring in a

country dance, having forgotten her turn by conversing with a friend,

was thus addressed by him, 'Give over, miss, mind what you are about. Do

you think you come here for your pleasure?'"

_XIII. The Beauty of Philadelphia Women_

Any investigator of early American social life may depend on Abigail

Adams for spicy, keen observations and interesting information. Her

letters picture happily the activities of Philadelphia society during

the last decade of the eighteenth century. For instance, she writes in

1790: "On Friday last I went to the drawing room, being the first of my

appearance in public. The room became full before I left it, and the

circle very brilliant. How could it be otherwise when the dazzling Mrs.

Bingham and her beautiful sisters were there: the Misses Allen, and the

Misses Chew; in short a constellation of beauties? If I were to accept

one-half the invitations I receive I should spend a very dissipated

winter. Even Saturday evening is not excepted, and I refused an

invitation of that kind for this evening. I have been to one assembly.

The dancing was very good; the company the best; the President and

Madam, the Vice-President and Madam, Ministers of State and their

Madames, etc."

The mention of Mrs. Bingham leads us to some notice of her and her

environment, as an aid to our perception of the real culture and

brilliance found in the higher social circles of colonial Philadelphia

and New York. One of the most beautiful women of the day, Mrs. Bingham,

added to a good education, the advantage of much travel abroad, and a

lengthy visit at the Court of Louis XVI. Her beauty and elegance were

the talk of Paris, The Hague, and London, and Mrs. Adams' comment from

London voiced the general foreign sentiment about her: "She is coming

quite into fashion here, and is very much admired. The hair-dresser who

dresses us on court days inquired ... whether ... we knew the lady

so much talked of here from America--Mrs. Bingham. He had heard of

her ... and at last speaking of Miss Hamilton he said with a twirl of

his comb, 'Well, it does not signify, but the American ladies do beat

the English all to nothing.'"

An English traveller, Wansey, visited her in her Philadelphia home, and

wrote: "I dined this day with Mrs. Bingham.... I found a magnificent

house and gardens in the best English style, with elegant and even

superb furniture. The chairs of the drawing room were from Seddons in

London, of the newest taste--the backs in the form of a lyre with

festoons of crimson and yellow silk; the curtains of the room a festoon

of the same; the carpet one of Moore's most expensive patterns. The room

was papered in the French taste, after the the style of the Vatican at

Rome."

Such a woman was, of course, destined to be a social leader, and while

her popularity was at its height, she introduced many a foreign custom

or fad to the somewhat unsophisticated society of America. One of these

was that of having a servant announce repeatedly the name of the visitor

as he progressed from the outside door to the drawing room, and this in

itself caused considerable ridiculous comment and sometimes embarrassing

blunders on the part of Americans ignorant of foreign etiquette. One

man, hearing his name thus called a number of times while he was taking

off his overcoat, bawled out repeatedly, "Coming, coming," until at

length, his patience gone, he shouted, "Coming, just as soon as I can

get my great-coat off!"

The beauty and brilliance of Philadelphia were not without honor at

home, and this recognition of local talent caused some rather spiteful

comparisons to be made with the New York belles. Rebecca Franks, to whom

we have referred several times, declared: "Few New York ladies know how

to entertain company in their own houses, unless they introduce the card

table.... I don't know a woman or girl that can chat above half an hour

and that on the form of a cap, the color of a ribbon, or the set of a

hoop, stay, or gapun. I will do our ladies, that is in Philadelphia, the

justice to say they have more cleverness in the turn of an eye than the

New York girls have in their whole composition. With what ease have I

seen a Chew, a Penn, Oswald, Allen, and a thousand other entertain a

large circle of both sexes and the conversation, without aid of cards,

not flagg or seem in the least strained or stupid."

_XIV. Social Functions_

While the beauty of the Philadelphia women was notable--the Duke

Rochefoucauld-Liancourt declared that it was impossible to meet with

what is called a plain woman--the lavish use of wealth was no less

noticeable. The equipage, the drawing room, the very kitchens of some

homes were so extravagantly furnished that foreign visitors marvelled at

the display. Indeed, some spiteful people of the day declared that the

Bingham home was so gaudy and so filled with evidence of wealth that it

lacked a great deal of being comfortable. The trappings of the horses,

the furnishings of the family coaches, the livery of the footmen,

drivers, and attendants apparently were equal to those possessed by the

most aristocratic in London and Paris.

Probably one of the most brilliant social occasions was the annual

celebration of Washington's birthday, and while the first President was

in Philadelphia, he was, of course, always present at the ball, and made

no effort to conceal his pleasure and gratitude for this mark of esteem.

The entire day was given over to pomp and ceremony. According to a

description by Miss Chambers, "The morning of the 'twenty-second' was

ushered in by the discharge of heavy artillery. The whole city was in

commotion, making arrangements to demonstrate their attachment to our

beloved President. The Masonic, Cincinnati, and military orders united

in doing him honor." In describing the hall, she says: "The seats were

arranged like those of an amphitheatre, and cords were stretched on each

side of the room, about three feet from the floor, to preserve

sufficient space for the dances. We were not long seated when General

Washington entered and bowed to the ladies as he passed round the

room.... The dancing soon after commenced."[225]

There can be little doubt that Mrs. Washington enjoyed her stay in

Philadelphia far more than the period spent in New York. In Philadelphia

there was a very noticeable atmosphere of hospitality and easy

friendliness; here too were many Southern visitors and Southern customs;

for in those days of difficult travel Philadelphia seemed much nearer to

Virginia than did New York. Even with such a congenial environment

Martha Washington, with her innate domesticity, was constantly thinking

of life at Mount Vernon, and in the midst of festivities and assemblies

of genuine diplomatic import, would stop to write to her niece at home

such a thoroughly housewifely message as: "I do not know what keys you

have--it is highly necessary that the beds and bed clothes of all kinds

should be aired, if you have the keys I beg you will make Caroline put

all the things of every kind out to air and brush and clean all the

places and rooms that they were in."

But Mrs. Washington was not alone in Philadelphia in this domestic

tendency; many of those women who dazzled both Americans and foreigners

with their beauty and social graces were most careful housekeepers, and

even expert at weaving and sewing. Sarah Bache, for example, might

please at a ball, but the next morning might find her industriously

working at the spinning wheel. We find her writing her father, Ben

Franklin, in 1790: "If I was to mention to you the prices of the common

necessaries of life, it would astonish you. I should tell you that I

had seven tablecloths of my own spinning." Again, she shrewdly requests

her father in Paris to send her various articles of dress which are

entirely too expensive in America, but the old gentleman's answer seems

still more shrewd, especially when we remember what a delightful time he

was just then having with several sprightly French dames: "I was charmed

with the account you gave me of your industry, the tablecloths of your

own spinning, and so on; but the latter part of the paragraph that you

had sent for linen from France ... and you sending for ... lace and

feathers, disgusted me as much as if you had put salt into my

strawberries. The spinning, I see, is laid aside, and you are to be

dressed for the ball! You seem not to know, my dear daughter, that of

all the dear things in this world idleness is the dearest, except

mischief."

Her declaration in her letter that "there was never so much pleasure and

dressing going on" is corroborated by the statement of an officer

writing to General Wayne: "It is all gaiety, and from what I can

observe, every lady endeavors to outdo the other in splendor and

show.... The manner of entertaining in this place has likewise undergone

its change. You cannot conceive anything more elegant than the present

taste. You can hardly dine at a table but they present you with three

courses, and each of them in the most elegant manner."

_XV. Theatrical Performances_

The dinners and balls seem to have been expensive enough, but another

demand for expenditure, especially in items of dress, arose from the

constantly increasing popularity of the theatre. In Philadelphia the

first regular theatre season began in 1754, and from this time forth the

stage seems to have filled an important part in the activities of

society. We find that Washington attended such performances at the early

South Street Theatre, and was especially pleased with a comedy called

_The Young Quaker; or the Fair Philadelphian_ by O'Keefe, a sketch that

was followed by a pantomimic ballet, a musical piece called _The

Children in the Wood_, a recitation of Goldsmith's _Epilogue_ in the

character of Harlequin, and a "grand finale" by some adventuresome actor

who made a leap through a barrel of fire! Truly vaudeville began early

in America.

Mrs. Adams from staid old Massachusetts, where theatrical performances

were not received cordially for many a year, wrote from Philadelphia in

1791: "The managers of the theatre have been very polite to me and my

family. I have been to one play, and here again we have been treated

with much politeness. The actors came and informed us that a box was

prepared for us.... The house is equal to most of the theatres we meet

with out of France.... The actors did their best; the 'School for

Scandal' was the play. I missed the divine Farran, but upon the whole it

was very well performed."

The first theatrical performance given in New York is said to have been

acted in a barn by English officers and shocked beyond all measure the

honest Dutch citizens whose lives hitherto had gone along so peacefully

without such ungodly spectacles. As Humphreys writes in her _Catherine

Schuyler_, "Great was the scandal in the church and among the burghers.

Their indictment was searching.... Moreover, they painted their faces

which was against God and nature.... They had degraded manhood by

assuming female habits."[226]

But in most sections of the Middle Colonies, as well as in Virginia and

South Carolina, the colonists took very readily to the theatre, and in

both Pennsylvania and Virginia, where the curtain generally rose at six

o'clock, such crowds attended that the fashionable folk commonly sent

their negroes ahead to hold the seats against all comers. Williamsburg,

Virginia, had a good play house as early as 1716; Charleston just a

little later, and Annapolis had regular performances in 1752. Baltimore

first opened the theatre in 1782, and did the thing "in the fine style,"

by presenting Shakespeare's _King Richard_. Society doubtless tingled

with excitement when that first theatrical notice appeared in the

Baltimore papers.

"THE NEW THEATRE IN BALTIMORE

Will Open, This Evening, being the 15th of January ...

With an HISTORICAL TRAGEDY, CALLED

KING RICHARD III

* * * * *

AN OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE by MR. WALL

to which will be added a FARCE,

MISS IN HER TEENS

* * * * *

"Boxes: One Dollar: Pit Five Shillings: Galleries 9d. Doors to be

open at Half-past Four, and will begin at Six o'clock.

"No persons can be admitted without Tickets, which may be had at

the coffee House in Baltimore, and at Lindlay's Coffee House on

Fells-Point.

"No Persons will on any pretence be admitted behind the Scenes."

This last sentence was indeed a necessary one; for during the earlier

days of the American theatre many in the audience frequently invaded the

stage, either to congratulate the actors or to express in fistic combat

their disgust over the play or the acting. It was not uncommon, too, for

eggs to be thrown from the gallery, and both this and the rushing upon

the stage was expressly forbidden at length by the authorities of

several towns. Every class in colonial days seems to have found its own

peculiar way of enjoying itself, whether by fascinating through beauty

and brilliance the supposedly sophisticated French dukes, or by pelting

barn-storming actors with eggs and other missiles.

The limits of one volume force us to omit many an interesting social

feature of colonial days, especially of the cities. How much might be

said of the tavern life of New York City and the vicinity, how much of

those famous resorts, Vauxhall and Ranelagh, where many a device to

arouse the wonder of the fashionable guests was invented and

constructed! Then, too, much might be related about the popular "fish

dinners" of New York and Annapolis, the horse races in Virginia and

Maryland, the militia parades and pageants at Charleston. But sufficient

has been offered to prove that the prevalent idea of a dreary atmosphere

that lasted throughout the entire colonial period is false; certainly

during the eighteenth century at least, the average American colonist

obtained as much pleasure out of life as the rushing, ever-busy American

of our own day.

_XVI. Strange Customs in Louisiana_

It should be noted that most of these pleasures were in the main

healthful and normal, and, in the eyes of the Anglo-Saxon colonists at

least, made a most commendable contrast to the recreations indulged in

by the French colonists of Louisiana. There can be but little doubt that

during the last years of the eighteenth century moral conditions in this

far southern colony might have been far better. Although Louis XIV, the

Grand Monarch, had been dead practically a century, he had left as a

heritage a passion for pleasure and merry-making that was causing the

French nobility to revel in profligacy and vice. It must be admitted

that many of the French colonists in America were apt pupils of their

European relatives, while the Creole population, born of at least an

unmoral union, was, to say the least, in no wise a hindrance to

pleasures of a rather lax character. Then, too, there was the negro, or

more accurately the mulatto, who if he or, again more accurately, _she_

had any moral scruples, had little opportunity as a slave or servant to

exercise them.

The settlers of Louisiana had an active trade with the West Indies, and

a percentage of the population was composed of West Indians, a people

then notorious for their lack of moral restraint. The traders travelling

between Louisiana and these islands were frequently unprincipled

ruffians, and their companions on shore were commonly sharpers,

desperadoes, pirates, and criminals steeped in vice. Tiring of the raw

life of the sea or sometimes fleeing from justice in northern cities,

such men looked to New Orleans for that peculiar type of free and easy

civilization which most pleased their nature. Hence, although some

better class families of culture and refinement resided in the city,

there was but little in common, socially at least, between it and such

centers as Philadelphia, New York, and Boston. As a sea-port looking to

those eighteenth century fens of wickedness, the West Indies; as a river

port toward which traders, trappers, and planters of the Mississippi

Valley looked as a resort for relieving themselves of accumulated thirst

and passion; as the home of mixed races, some of which were but a few

decades removed from savagery; this city could not avoid its reputation

for lax principles, and free-and-easy vice.

Berquin-Duvallon, writing in 1803, gave what he doubtless considered an

accurate picture of social conditions during that year, and, although

this is a little later than the period covered in our study, still it is

hardly likely that conditions were much better twenty years earlier; if

anything, they were probably much worse. Of one famous class of

Louisiana women he has this to say: "The Creoles of Louisiana are blond

rather than brunette. The women of this country who may be included

among the number of those whom nature has especially favored, have a

skin which without being of extreme whiteness, is still beautiful enough

to constitute one of their charms; and features which although not very

regular, form an agreeable whole; a very pretty throat; a stature that

indicates strength and health; and (a peculiar and distinguishing

feature) lively eyes full of expression, as well as a magnificent head

of hair."[227]

Such women, as well as the negro and mulatto girls, were an ever present

temptation to men whose passion had never known restraint. Thus

Berquin-Duvallon declares that concubinage was far more common than

marriage: "The rarity of marriage must necessarily be attributed to the

causes we have already assigned, to that state of celibacy, to that

monkish life, the taste for which is extending here more and more among

the men. In witness of what I advance on this matter, one single

observation will suffice, as follows: For the two and one-half years

that I have been in this colony not thirty marriages at all notable have

occurred in New Orleans and for ten leagues about it. And in this

district there are at least six hundred white girls of virtuous estate,

of marriageable age, between fourteen and twenty-five or thirty years."

This early observer receives abundant corroboration from other

travellers of the day. Paul Alliott, drawing a contrast between New

Orleans and St. Louis, another city with a considerable number of French

inhabitants, says: "The inhabitants of the city of St. Louis, like those

old time simple and united patriarchs, do not live at all in debauchery

as do a part of those of New Orleans. Marriage is honored there, and the

children resulting from it share the inheritance of their parents

without any quarrelling."[228] But, says Berquin-Duvallon, among a large

percentage of the colonists about New Orleans, "their taste for women

extends more particularly to those of color, whom they prefer to the

white women, because such women demand fewer of those annoying

attentions which contradict their taste for independence. A great

number, accordingly, prefer to live in concubinage rather than to marry.

They find in that the double advantage of being served with the most

scrupulous exactness, and in case of discontent or unfaithfulness, of

changing their housekeeper (this is the honorable name given to that

sort of woman)." Of course, such a scheme of life was not especially

conducive to happiness among white women, and, although as Alliott

declares, the white men "have generally much more regard for (negro

girls) in their domestic economy than they do for their legitimate

wives.... the (white) women show the greatest contempt and aversion for

that sort of women."

When moral conditions could shock an eighteenth century Frenchman they

must have been exceptionally bad; but the customs of the New Orleans

men were entirely too unprincipled for Berquin-Duvallon and various

other French investigators. "Not far from the taverns are obscene

bawdy houses and dirty smoking houses where the father on one side,

and the son on the other go, openly and without embarassment as well

as without shame, ... to revel and dance indiscriminately and for

whole nights with a lot of men and women of saffron color or quite

black, either free or slave. Will any one dare to deny this fact? I

will only designate, in support of my assertion (and to say no more),

the famous house of Coquet, located near the center of the city, where

all that scum is to be seen publicly, and that for several

years."[229]

Naturally, as a matter of mere defense, the women of pure white blood

drew the color line very strictly, and would not knowingly mingle

socially to the very slightest degree with a person of mixed negro or

Indian blood. Such severe distinctions led to embarrassing and even

cruel incidents at social gatherings; and on many occasions, if

cool-headed social leaders had not quickly ejected guests of tainted

lineage, there undoubtedly would have been bloodshed. Berquin-Duvallon

describes just such a scene: "The ladies' ball is a sanctuary where no

woman dare approach if she has even a suspicion of mixed blood. The

purest conduct, the most eminent virtues could not lessen this strain in

the eyes of the implacable ladies. One of the latter, married and known

to have been implicated in various intrigues with men of the locality,

one day entered one of those fine balls. 'There is a woman of mixed

blood here,' she cried haughtily. This rumor ran about the ballroom. In

fact, two young quadroon ladies were seen there, who were esteemed for

the excellent education which they had received, and much more for their

honorable conduct. They were warned and obliged to disappear in haste

before a shameless woman, and their society would have been a real

pollution for her."

Perhaps, after all, little blame for such outbursts can be placed upon

the white women of the day. Berquin-Duvallon recognized and admired

their excellent quality and seems to have wondered why so many men could

prefer girls of color to these clean, healthy, and honorable ladies. Of

them he says: "The Louisiana women, and notably those born and resident

on the plantations, have various estimable qualities. Respectful as

girls, affectionate as wives, tender as mothers, and careful as

mistresses, possessing thoroughly the details of household economy,

honest, reserved, proper--in the van almost--they are in general, most

excellent women." But those of mixed blood or lower lineage, he remarks:

"A tone of extravagance and show in excess of one's means is seen there

in the dress of the women, in the elegance of their carriages, and in

their fine furniture."

Indeed, this display in dress and equipage astounded the French. The

sight of it in a city where Indians, negroes, and half-breeds mingled

freely with whites on street and in dive, where sanitary conditions were

beyond description, and where ignorance and slovenliness were too

apparent to be overlooked, seems to have rather nettled

Berquin-Duvallon, and he sometimes grew rather heated in his

descriptions of an unwarranted luxury and extravagance equal to that of

the capitals of Europe. But now, "the women of the city dress

tastefully, and their change of appearance in this respect in a very

short space of time is really surprising. Not three years ago, with

lengthened skirts, the upper part of their clothing being of one color,

and the lower of another, and all the rest of their dress in proportion;

they were brave with many ribbons and few jewels. Thus rigged out they

went everywhere, on their round of visits, to the ball, and to the

theatre. To-day, such a costume seems to them, and rightfully so, a

masquerade. The richest of embroidered muslins, cut in the latest

styles, and set off as transparencies over soft and brilliant taffetas,

with magnificent lace trimmings, and with embroidery and

gold-embroidered spangles, are to-day fitted to and beautify well

dressed women and girls; and this is accompanied by rich earrings,

necklaces, bracelets, rings, precious jewels, in fine with all that can

relate to dress--to that important occupation of the fair sex."

But beneath all this gaudy show of dress and wealth there was a

shameful ignorance that seems to have disgusted foreign visitors. There

was so little other pleasure in life for the women of this colony; their

education was so limited that they could not possibly have known the

variety of intellectual pastimes that made life so interesting for Eliza

Pinckney, Mrs. Adams, and Catherine Schuyler. With surprise

Berquin-Duvallon noted that "there is no other public institution fit

for the education of the youth of this country than a simple school

maintained by the government. It is composed of about fifty children,

nearly all from poor families. Reading, writing, and arithmetic are

taught there in two languages, French and Spanish. There is also the

house of the French nuns, who have some young girls as boarders, and who

have a class for day students. There is also a boarding school for young

Creole girls, which was established about fifteen months ago.... The

Creole women lacking in general the talents that adorn education have no

taste for music, drawing or, embroidery, but in revenge they have an

extreme passion for dancing and would pass all their days and nights at

it."

There was indeed some attendance at theatres as the source of amusement;

but of the sources of cultural pleasure there were certainly very few.

To our French friend it was genuinely disgusting, and he relieved his

feelings in the following summary of fault-finding: "Few good musicians

are to be seen here. There is only one single portrait painter, whose

talent is suited to the walk of life where he employs it. Finally, in a

city inhabited by ten thousand souls, as is New Orleans, I record it as

a fact that not ten truly learned men can be found.... There is found

here neither ship-yard, colonial post, college, nor public nor private

library. Neither is there a book store, and, for good reasons, for a

bookseller would die of hunger in the midst of his books."

With little of an intellectual nature to divert them, with the

temptations incident to slavery and mixed races on every hand, with a

heritage of rather lax ideas concerning sexual morality, the men of the

day too frequently found their chief pastimes in feeding the appetites

of the flesh, and too often the women forgot and forgave. To

Berquin-Duvallon it all seems very strange and very crude. "I cannot

accustom myself to those great mobs, or to the old custom of the men (on

these gala occasions or better, orgies) of getting more than on edge

with wine, so that they get fuddled even before the ladies, and

afterward act like drunken men in the presence of those beautiful

ladies, who, far from being offended at it, appear on the contrary to be

amused by it." And out of it all, out of these conditions forming so

vivid a contrast to the average life of Massachusetts and Pennsylvania,

grew this final dark picture--one that could not have been tolerated in

the Anglo-Saxon colonies of the North: "The most remarkable, as well as

the most pathetic result of that gangrenous irregularity in this city is

the exposing of a number of white babies (sad fruits of a clandestine

excess) who are sacrificed from birth by their guilty mothers to a false

honor after they have sacrificed their true honor to their unbridled

inclination for a luxury that destroys them."

Thus, we have had glimpses of social life, with its pleasures,

throughout the colonies. Perhaps, it was a trifle too cautious in

Massachusetts, a little fearful lest the mere fact that a thing was

pleasant might make it sinful; perhaps in early New York it was a little

too physical, though generally innocent, smacking a little too much of

rich, heavy foods and drink; perhaps among the Virginians it echoed too

often with the bay of the fox hound and the click of racing hoofs. But

certainly in the latter half of the eighteenth century whether in

Massachusetts, the Middle Colonies, or Virginia and South Carolina

social activities often showed a culture, refinement and general _éclat_

which no young nation need be ashamed of, and which, in fact, were far

above what might justly have been expected in a country so little

touched by the hand of civilized man. In the main, those were wholesome,

sane days in the English colonies, and life offered almost as pleasant a

journey to most Americans as it does to-day.

FOOTNOTES:

[153] Tyler: _England in America_, p. 115, _American Nation Series_.

[154] _The Jeffersonian System_, p. 218, _American Nation Series_.

[155] _Ibid._, p. 115.

[156] Page 89.

[157] Ravenel: _Eliza Pinckney_, p. 227.

[158] Ravenel: _Elisa Pinckney_, p. 13.

[159] Wharton: _Martha Washington_, p. 166.

[160] Ravenel: _E. Pinckney_, p. 20.

[161] Pages 46-48.

[162] Ravenal: _Eliza Pinckney_, p. 49.

[163] Wharton: _Martha Washington_, p. 56.

[164] Wharton: _Martha Washington_, p. 186.

[165] Page 205.

[166] Vol. I, p. 116.

[167] Vol. I, p. 31.

[168] Vol. I, p. 143.

[169] Vol. I, p. 171.

[170] Vol. I, p, 191.

[171] _Diary_, p. 189.

[172] _Diary_, p. 289.

[173] _Diary_, p. 321.

[174] _Diary_, p. 119.

[175] _Diary_, p. 54.

[176] _Diary_, p. 121.

[177] _Diary_, p. 69.

[178] Vol. III, p. 43.

[179] Vol. III, p. 341.

[180] Vol. II, p. 367.

[181] Vol. III, p. 7.

[182] Vol. II, p. 14.

[183] Vol. II, p. 20.

[184] Vol. II, p. 32.

[185] Vol. I, p. 481.

[186] Vol. I, p. 202.

[187] Vol. I, p. 195.

[188] Vol. II, p. 175.

[189] Vol. III, p. 292.

[190] Andrews: _Colonial Self-Government_, p. 302, _American Nation

Series_.

[191] _Diary_, Vol. II, p. 109.

[192] _Diary_, Vol. I, p. 125.

[193] _Diary_, Vol. II, p. 158.

[194] _Diary_, Vol. I, p. 145.

[195] _Diary_, Vol. III, p. 244.

[196] _Diary_, Vol. III, p. 341.

[197] _Diary_, Vol. III, p. 143.

[198] _Diary_, Vol. I, p. 228.

[199] _Diary_, Vol. II, p. 216.

[200] _Diary_, Vol. I, p. 410.

[201] _Diary_, Vol. I, p. 157.

[202] _Diary_, Vol. I, p. 355.

[203] _Diary_, Vol. III, p. 316.

[204] _Diary_, Vol. III, p. 394.

[205] _Diary_, p. 60.

[206] _Diary_, p. 81.

[207] Vol. I, p. 159.

[208] Vol. III, p. 1.

[209] Vol. I, p. 223.

[210] Page 136.

[211] Page 33.

[212] _Memoirs_, p. 29.

[213] _Memoirs_: p. 53.

[214] _Memoirs of an American Lady_, p. 35.

[215] Grant: _Memoirs of an American Lady_, pp. 55-57.

[216] Grant: _Memoirs_, p. 62.

[217a], [217b] Humphreys: _Catherine Schuyler_, p. 77.

[218] Page 83.

[219] Humphreys: _Catherine Schuyler_, p. 214.

[220] Humphreys: _Catherine Schuyler_, p. 213.

[221] Humphreys: _Catherine Schuyler_, p. 215.

[222] Humphreys: _Catherine Schuyler_, p. 209.

[223] Page 195.

[224] Page 24.

[225] Wharton: _Martha Washington_, p. 230.

[226] Page 45.

[227] Robertson: _Louisiana under Spain, France, and U.S._, Vol. I, p.

70.

[228] Robertson: Vol. I, p. 85.

[229] Robertson, Vol. I, p. 216.