IN HAPPY BRAINTREE
WHAT was home life like, when Johnny and Abby Adams were little? It
would be pleasant to see something of it in detail; if Mrs. Adams had
only kept a diary! As it is, it is mostly by side-lights that we can get
a glimpse of that Braintree home, so happy in itself, so shadowed, in
the days of which I write, by the tremendous cloud of public events.
We know that Mrs. Adams spent some part of each day in writing letters;
but we have to stop and think about the other things she did, some of
them were so different from the things women do today. Take the spinning
and weaving! A spinning wheel, for us, is a pretty, graceful article of
furniture, very useful for _tableaux vivants_ and the like; in the Adams
household it was as constantly and inevitably used as our own
sewing-machine. So was the loom, which is banished altogether from New
England homes, though in some parts of the South it is still in use.
Mrs. Adams and her maids, Susie and Patty (poor Patty, who died that
summer of 1775!), not only made, but spun and wove, every article of
clothing, every sheet, blanket, table-cloth, that the house afforded.
The wool-wheel is a large clumsy affair, very different from the elegant
little flax-wheel. You may still find it in some New England households.
Some years ago, driving along a remote road, I came to a little brown
house, so old and moss-covered that it seemed almost a part of the wood
that surrounded it. I knocked, and hearing a cheery "Come in!" entered
to find a neat kitchen, half filled by an enormous wheel, in front of
which a little brownie of a woman was stepping back and forth,
diligently spinning yarn. It was a pretty sight.
Thinking of this, and trying, as I am constantly doing, to link the new
time to the old, I find myself calling up another picture, a scene on
Boston Common in the year 1749, when a society, formed for promoting
industry and frugality, publicly celebrated its fourth anniversary. "In
the afternoon about three hundred young female spinsters, decently
dressed, appeared on the Common at their spinning wheels. The wheels
were placed regularly in rows, and a female was seated at each wheel.
The weavers also appeared, cleanly dressed, in garments of their own
weaving. One of them working at a loom on a stage was carried on men's
shoulders, attended with music. An immense number of spectators were
present."
I wonder if Mrs. Adams and her maidens made any "Bounty Coats." When
Washington gathered his army in May, 1775, there were no overcoats for
the men. The Provincial Congress "made a demand on the people for
thirteen thousand warm coats to be ready for the soldiers by cold
weather." There were no factories then, remember: no steam-power, no
contractors, no anything--except the women and their wheels. All over
the country, the big wool-wheels began to fly, the shuttles sped back
and forth through the sounding looms. Every town, every village, every
lonely farmhouse, would do its part; long before the appointed time, the
coats were ready. Inside each coat was sewed the name of town and maker.
Every soldier, volunteering for eight months' service, was given one of
these coats as a bounty. We are told that "so highly were these 'Bounty
Coats' prized, that the heirs of soldiers who were killed at Bunker Hill
before receiving their coats were given a sum of money instead. The
list of names of soldiers who then enlisted is known to this day as the
'Coat Roll,' and the names of the women who made the coats might form
another roll of honor."
I cannot be sure that one or more of these coats came from the lean-to
farmhouse in Braintree, but I like to think so, and certainly nothing is
more probable.
The women who refused to drink tea determined also to do without
imported dress materials. From Massachusetts to South Carolina, the
Daughters of Liberty agreed to wear only homespun garments. General
Howe, finding "Linnen and Woollen Goods much wanted by the Rebels,"
carried away with him, when he evacuated Boston, all of such things as
he could lay hands on. He reckoned without the spinners! In town and
village, the Daughters flocked together, bringing their flax-wheels with
them, sometimes to the number of sixty or seventy. In Rowley,
Massachusetts, "A number of thirty-three respectable ladies of the town
met at sunrise with their wheels to spend the day at the house of the
Rev'd Jedidiah Jewell, in the laudable design of a spinning match. At an
hour before sunset, the ladies there appearing neatly dressed,
principally in homespun, a polite and generous repast of American
production was set for their entertainment. After which being present
many spectators of both sexes, Mr. Jewell delivered a profitable
discourse from Romans xii. 2: 'Not slothful in business, fervent in
spirit, serving the Lord.'"[19]
There was always a text and a sermon for the spinners; a favorite text
was from the Book of Exodus: "And all the women that were wise-hearted
did spin with their hands." The women of Northboro, forty-four of them,
spun two thousand, two hundred, twenty-three knots of linen and tow, and
wove one linen sheet and two towels, all in one day!
This is amazing; but another record outdoes it: an extract from the
diary of a young Connecticut girl, Abigail Foote, in this very year,
1775:
"Fix'd gown for Prude,--Mend Mother's Riding-hood,--spun short
thread,--Fix'd two gowns for Walsh's girls,--Carded tow,--Spun
linen,--Worked on Cheese-basket,--Hatchel'd flax with Hannah, we did 51
lbs. apiece,--Pleated and ironed,--Read a Sermon of Doddridge's,--Spooled
a piece,--Milked the cows,--Spun linen, did 50 knots,--Made a Broom of
Guinea wheat straw,--Spun thread to whiten,--Set a Red dye,--Had two
scholars from Mrs. Taylors,--I carded two pounds of whole wool and felt
Nationly,--Spun harness twine,--Scoured the pewter."
One feels confident that Abby Adams had no such record as this to show.
She was an industrious and capable girl, but Mother Abigail would see to
it that her day was not _all_ spent in household work. There were
lessons to learn and recite; the daughter of John Adams must have a
cultivated mind, as well as skilful fingers. John went to Mr. Thatcher's
school, but for "Nabby" and the two younger boys, "Mother" was the sole
instructress. Both parents were full of anxious care and thought for the
children's well-being. There is a beautiful letter from Mr. Adams,
written in April, 1776, in which, after describing his multifarious
labors, he thus pours out his mind.
"What will come of this labor, time will discover. I shall get nothing
by it, I believe, because I never get anything by anything that I do. I
am sure the public or posterity ought to get something. I believe my
children will think I might as well have thought and labored a little,
night and day, for their benefit. But I will not bear the reproaches of
my children. I will tell them that I studied and labored to procure a
free constitution of government for them to solace themselves under,
and if they do not prefer this to ample fortune, to ease and elegance,
they are not my children, and I care not what becomes of them. They
shall live upon thin diet, wear mean clothes, and work hard with
cheerful hearts and free spirits, or they may be the children of the
earth, or of no one, for me.
"John has genius, and so has Charles. Take care that they don't go
astray. Cultivate their minds, inspire their little hearts, raise their
wishes. Fix their attention upon great and glorious objects. Root out
every little thing. Weed out every meanness. Make them great and manly.
Teach them to scorn injustice, ingratitude, cowardice, and falsehood.
Let them revere nothing but religion, morality, and liberty.
"Abby and Tommy are not forgotten by me, although I did not mention them
before. The first, by reason of her sex, requires a different education
from the two I have mentioned. Of this, you are the only judge. I want
to send each of my little pretty flock some present or other. I have
walked over this city twenty times, and gaped at every shop, like a
countryman, to find something, but could not. Ask everyone of them what
they would choose to have, and write it to me in your next letter. From
this I shall judge of their taste and fancy and discretion."
Husband and wife are full of forebodings, yet have always a heartening
word for each other.
"I have some thought," writes Mr. Adams, "of petitioning the General
Court for leave to bring my family here. I am a lonely, forlorn creature
here. . . . It is a cruel reflection, which very often comes across me,
that I should be separated so far from those babes whose education and
welfare lie so near my heart. But greater misfortunes than these must
not divert us from superior duties.
"Your sentiments of the duties we owe to our country are such as become
the best of women and the best of men. Among all the disappointments and
perplexities which have fallen to my share in life, nothing has
contributed so much to support my mind as the choice blessing of a wife
whose capacity enabled her to comprehend, and whose pure virtue obliged
her to approve, the views of her husband. This has been the cheering
consolation of my heart in my most solitary, gloomy, and disconsolate
hours. . . . I want to take a walk with you in the garden, to go over to
the common, the plain, the meadow. I want to take Charles in one hand
and Tom in the other, and walk with you, Abby on your right hand and
John upon my left, to view the corn fields, the orchards, etc. . . ."
Shortly after this, on June 3d, Abigail writes:
"I wish to hear from you every opportunity, though you say no more than
that you are well. I feel concerned lest your clothes should go to rags,
having nobody to take any care of you in your long absence; and then,
you have not with you a proper change for the seasons. However, you must
do the best you can. I have a suit of homespun for you whenever you
return. I cannot avoid sometimes repining that the gifts of fortune were
not bestowed upon us, that I might have enjoyed the happiness of
spending my days with my partner, but as it is, I think it my duty to
attend with frugality and economy to our own private affairs; and if I
cannot add to our little substance, yet see to it that it is not
diminished. I should enjoy but little comfort in a state of idleness and
uselessness. Here I can serve my partner, my family, and myself, and
enjoy the satisfaction of your serving your country. . . .
"Everything bears a very great price. The merchant complains of the
farmer and the farmer of the merchant,--both are extravagant. Living is
double what it was one year ago.
"I find you have licensed tea, but I am determined not to be a
purchaser unless I can have it at Congress price, and in that article
the vendors pay no regard to Congress, asking ten, eight, and the lowest
is seven and sixpence per pound. I should like a little green, but they
say there is none to be had here. I only wish it for a medicine, as a
relief to a nervous pain in my head to which I am sometimes subject.
Were it as plenty as ever, I would not practice the use of it."
Beside spinning, weaving and making all the clothing, Mrs. Adams and her
maids must make all the soap for the family; this was a regular part of
the housewife's duty, and a disagreeable part it was.
"You inquire of me," she writes, "whether I am making saltpetre. I have
not yet attempted it, but after soap-making believe I shall make the
experiment. I find as much as I can do to manufacture clothing for my
family, which would else be naked."
Many women were making saltpetre for the gunpowder; let us hope they had
fewer other necessary occupations than Mrs. Adams.
Be sure that with all the plainer parts of housewifery, Abby was also
instructed in its graces. We can picture her sitting by her mother's
side (Brother Johnny, perhaps, reading aloud the while from "Rollin's
Ancient History," a work which he found entrancing) working at her
sampler, or knitting a purse for Papa, far away, or mittens for her
brothers. All the mittens and stockings, of course, were made at home as
well as the clothes. Mitten knitting could be a fine art in those days.
We read that one "young New Hampshire girl, using fine flaxen yarn, knit
the whole alphabet and a verse of poetry into a pair of mittens!" Then
there is the wonderful story of Nancy Peabody. How her brother, coming
in from work at night, announced that he had lost his mittens. How Nancy
ran to the garret for wool, carded and spun a big hank of yarn that
night, soaked and scoured it next morning, and as soon as it was dry,
sat down to knit. "In twenty-four hours from the time the brother
announced his loss he had a fine new pair of double mittens." "I tell
the tale as I've heard told."
Did Abby learn netting with all the rest? Doubtless she did. Lady
Washington set the fashion, and netted so well and so industriously that
all her family were proud of trimming their dresses with her work. Then
there was quilting, a fine art indeed in those days, and the exquisite
embroidery which we find in our grandmothers' cupboards, and over which
we sigh partly in admiration, partly in compassion for the eyes which
were so cruelly tried; and a dozen other niceties and exquisitenesses of
needlework. To quote the advertisement of Mrs. Sarah Wilson, who kept a
boarding-school for girls in Philadelphia:
"Young ladies may be educated in a genteel manner, and pains taken to
teach them in regard to their behaviour, on reasonable terms. They may
be taught all sorts fine needlework, viz., working on catgut or
flowering muslin, sattin stitch, quince stitch, tent stitch,
cross-stitch, open work, tambour, embroidering curtains or chairs,
writing and cyphering. Likewise waxwork in all its several branches,
never as yet particularly taught here; also how to take profiles in wax,
to make wax flowers and fruits and pinbaskets."
Boston would not be behind Philadelphia in matters of high fashion.
In the Boston _News-Letter_, in August, 1716, we read:
"This is to give notice that at the House of Mr. George Brownell, late
Schoolmaster in Hanover Street, Boston, are all sorts of Millinery Works
done; making up Dresses and flowering of Muslin, making of furbelow'd
Scarffs, and Quilting and cutting of Gentlewomen's Hair in the newest
Fashion; and also young Gentlewomen and children taught all sorts of
fine works, as Feather-work, Filigree and Painting on Glass,
Embroidering a new way, Turkey-work for Handkerchiefs two ways, fine new
Fashion purses, flourishing and plain Work, and Dancing cheaper than was
ever taught in Boston. Brocaded work for Handkerchiefs and short Aprons
upon Muslin; artificial Flowers work'd with a needle."
And what did Abby Adams wear, say in 1776, when she was ten years old?
Why, she wore a large hoop, and, I fear, very uncomfortable corsets,
with a stiff board down the front; high-heeled shoes, and mitts reaching
to her elbows, and a ruffled or embroidered apron. Of all this we may be
tolerably sure, as it was the costume of the time. We may hope, however,
Mrs. Adams being the sensible woman she was, that Abby did not suffer
like Dolly Payne (afterward Dolly Madison), who went to school wearing
"a white linen mask to keep every ray of sunshine from the complexion, a
sunbonnet sewed on her head every morning by her careful mother, and
long gloves covering the hands and arms."
When Nelly Custis was four years old, her step-father, General
Washington, ordered an outfit for her from England, "pack-thread stays,
stiff coats of silk, masks, caps, bonnets, bibs, ruffles, necklaces,
fans, silk and calamanco shoes, and leather pumps. There were also eight
pairs of kid mitts and four pairs of gloves." Poor Nelly!
But to return to Abby Adams. One article of her winter costume has a
personal interest for me, because it survived to my own time, and I
suffered under, or rather _in_ it, in my childhood. The pumpkin hood! It
has genuine historical interest, for it dates back to the days of the
unwarmed meeting-house, when a woman or a girl-child must wrap up her
head, and smuggle in a hot brick or a hot stick for her feet, if she
would keep alive through meeting. How ugly the thing was! Of clumsy
oblong shape, coming well forward over the face; heavily quilted, an
inch thick or so; knots of narrow ribbon or of worsted sticking up here
and there; I detested it, thought it a hardship to be condemned to wear
it, instead of being thankful for warm ears and a historic atmosphere. I
think our pumpkin hoods were among the last to survive, and some of the
other girls had already beauteous things called skating-caps, fitting
the head closely, displaying pie-shaped sections of contrasting colors,
gray and purple, blue and scarlet, knitted or crocheted, I forget
which. Looking back to the early Sixties, the skating-cap still seems
among the greatly desirable things of life.
Perhaps we have gone as far as we can in picturing little Abby Adams,
who grew up an accomplished and charming young woman, and in due time
married, by curious coincidence, a Mr. Smith, thus taking as a married
woman her mother's maiden name. Let us return to the elder Abigail.
Left alone to manage all affairs, household and educational, it is not
strange that her keen, alert mind sought wider fields for exercise than
home life afforded. She thought for herself, and her thought took a
direction which now seems prophetic. No doubt she was in merry mood when
she wrote to John on March 31st, 1776, yet there is a ring of
earnestness under the playfulness.
(Note that the Assembly of Virginia, roused by the burning of Norfolk,
had just voted to propose to Congress "that the colonies be declared
free and independent"; and afterward the British flag had been hauled
down at Williamsburg and replaced by a banner with thirteen stripes.)
"I long to hear," writes Abigail to her dearest friend, "that you have
declared an independency. And, by the way, in the new code of laws which
I suppose it will be necessary for you to make, I desire you would
remember the ladies and be more generous and favorable to them than your
ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the
husbands. Remember, all men would be tyrants if they could. If
particular care and attention is not paid to the ladies, we are
determined to foment a rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by
any laws in which we have no voice or representation.
"That your sex are naturally tyrannical is a truth so thoroughly
established as to admit of no dispute; but such of you as wish to be
happy willingly give up the harsh title of master for the more tender
and endearing one of friend. Why, then, not put it out of the power of
the vicious and the lawless to use us with cruelty and indignity with
impunity? Men of sense in all ages abhor those customs which treat us
only as the vassals of your sex; regard us then as beings placed by
Providence under your protection, and in imitation of the Supreme Being
make use of that power only for our happiness."
Mr. Adams replies, in high amusement:
"As to your extraordinary code of laws, I cannot but laugh. We have been
told that our struggle has loosened the bonds of government everywhere;
that children and apprentices were disobedient; that schools and
colleges were grown turbulent; that Indians slighted their guardians,
and negroes grew insolent to their masters. But your letter was the
first intimation that another tribe, more numerous and powerful than all
the rest, were grown discontented. This is rather too coarse a
compliment, but you are so saucy, I won't blot it out. Depend upon it,
we know better than to repeal our masculine systems. Although they are
in full force, you know they are little more than theory. We dare not
exert our power in its full latitude. We are obliged to go fair and
softly, and, in practice, you know we are the subjects. We have only the
name of masters, and rather than give up this, which would completely
subject us to the despotism of the petticoat, I hope General Washington
and all our brave heroes would fight; I am sure every good politician
would plot, as long as he would against despotism, empire, monarchy,
aristocracy, oligarchy, or ochlocracy. A fine story, indeed! I begin to
think the ministry as deep as they are wicked. After stirring up Tories,
land-jobbers, trimmers, bigots, Canadians, Indians, negroes,
Hanoverians, Hessians, Russians, Irish Roman Catholic, Scotch renegades,
at last they have stimulated the----to demand new privileges and
threaten to rebel."
Doubtless John thought this settled the question; but Abigail had the
last word to say.
"I cannot say that I think you are very generous to the ladies; for,
whilst you are proclaiming peace and good-will to men, emancipating all
nations, you insist upon retaining an absolute power over wives. But you
must remember that arbitrary power is, like most other things which are
very hard, very liable to be broken; and, notwithstanding all your wise
laws and maxims, we have it in our power, not only to free ourselves,
but to subdue our masters, and, without violence, throw both your
natural and legal authority at our feet:--
Charm by accepting, by submitting sway,
Yet have our humor most when we obey."
FOOTNOTE:
[19] "Social Life in Old New England." Mary C. Crawford.