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."

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."

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.’"

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."

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.)

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...."

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."

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 L8000, 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...." 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."

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."

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."

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."

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 regime 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."

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."

“De, 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."

“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."

“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."

“Thorsday, Oc, 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 Octh 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...."

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."

“Thursday, October 25, 1787 ... Mrs. Pynchon, Mrs. Orne, and
Betsy spend the evening at Mrs. Anderson’s; musick and
dancing."

“Monday, November 10, 1788 ... Mrs. Gibbs, Curwen, Mrs. Paine,
and others spend the evening here, also Mr. Gibbs, at
cards."

“Friday, April 19 1782. Some rain. A concert at night; musicians
from Boston, and dancing."

“June 24, Wednesday, 1778. Went with Mrs. Orne [his daughter] to
visit Mr. Sewall and lady at Manchester, and returned on
Thursday."

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." “Thursday, July 20, 1780. Fast Day; clear." 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...."

“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...."

“Tuesday, 18, Nov. Mr. Benknap buried. Joseph was invited
by Gloves, and had a scarf given him there, which is the
first."

“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...."

“July 25th, 1700. Went to the Funeral of Mrs. Sprague, being
invited by a good pair of Gloves."

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...."

“Feb, 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."

“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...."

“Friday, Fe, 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 Fe, the mourning cloth of the Pulpit is taken off and given to Mr. Willard."

“Satterday, No, 1687. About 5 P.M. Mrs. Elisa Saffen is
entombed.... Mother not invited."

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:

“Dec, 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."

“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...."

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 L200. 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."

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 minutiae. 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."

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."

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, Ja, 1719. The Govr has a ball at his own House that lasts to 3 in the Morn;" 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." 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: “Fe, 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." 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, Aug. 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.’"

And when his wife was ill, he wrote: “Oc, 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."

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, Ocrd, 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...."

“Feb. 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...."

“Third-day, Aug, 1695. We have a Fast kept in our new
Chamber...."

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 cérémonials, 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:

“De, 1717. Snowy Cold Weather; Shops open as could be for
the Storm; Hay, wood and all sorts of provisions brought to
Town."

“De, 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."

“Tuesday, Dec, 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."

“Midweek, Dec, 1718-9. Shops are open, Hay, Hoop-poles,
Wood, Faggots, Charcole, Meat brought to Town."

Nearly a century later all that Judge Pynchon records is:

“Fryday, December 25, 1778. Christmas. Cold continued."

“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."

All that Sewall has to say about Thanksgiving is: “Thorsday, Nov. Public Thanksgiving," and again: “1714. Nov. 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." 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 L5. 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."

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."

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."

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."

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."

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."

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."

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."

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.

Paid Mr. Benson his fee for opinion on will L9."

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."

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."

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."

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." 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."

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."

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 AEneas 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."

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."

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."

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."

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 Créoles 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."

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." 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."

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 eclat 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.