A Colonial Mother's Day

On this day after Mother's Day, I thought it would be fun to highlight some of the resources I've used over the years to recreate the day of a colonial woman, specifically a wife and mother, in my stories.

First are three books covering the basics of cooking and herbs, both culinary and medicinal, with tidbits of other historical information sprinkled throughout: The Backcountry Housewife: A Study of Eighteenth-Century Foods (Moss and Hoffman), Revolutionary War Period Cookery (Pelton), and Colonial Spices & Herbs (Mitchell). The other three are much more involved. First pictured is The Way of Duty: A Woman and Her Family in Revolutionary America (Buel & Buel), an account of Connecticut resident Mary Fish Silliman (1736-1818) and her family. Next is Belonging to the Army: Camp Followers and Community during the American Revolution (Mayer), which I drew heavily on while writing my yet-unpublished RevWar story, Loyalty's Cadence, and for a previous article on camp-following wives (see also the excellent article on the same subject by Joan Hochstetler). Third is Revolutionary Mothers: Women in the Struggle for America's Independence (Berkin), a fascinating collection of accounts of women spanning patriots and loyalists, enslaved and free, European and native.

 "Mother's Day" as we know it, of course, would not become a thing until 1908 (thank you, Google), but what did a day in the life of a colonial mother look like?

As a wife and mother of a large family myself, I would say one word: BUSY. Running a household in any era is no walk in the park, but pre-technology, the workload was staggering, even if one had help in the way of family members, hired servants, or slaves. The assistance of grandparents and unmarried aunts (or uncles) was both expected and welcomed. Older children learned early to help as well, either in simple chores or with caring for both the very young and very old. The contribution of extended family was necessary to the overall workings of a family, which made westward expansion even more perilous in terms of emotional and physical well-being. Aging adults longed to be useful as long as possible and not mere drains on their family's precious resources.

The question remains whether women were seen as mere drudges to serve their families, or whether there was indeed a mostly unspoken honor to the role of wife and mother. I would say, both were true, depending upon the region and individuals involved. Women's rights were definitely on the radar, even for a "proper" Christian wife like Abigail Adams, as we see in a letter to her husband John:

"I desire you would Remember the Ladies, and be more generous and favourable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the Husbands. Remember all Men would be tyrants if they could. If particular care and attention is not paid to the Ladies we are determined to foment a Rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any Laws in which we have no voice, or Representation. That your Sex are Naturally Tyrannical is a Truth so thoroughly established as to admit of no dispute, but such of you as wish to be happy willingly give up the harsh title of Master for the more tender and endearing one of Friend."

Still, there was recognition in a woman's value in the family, as mother or otherwise, as implied in this quote by Abigail Adams:

If we mean to have Heroes, Statesmen and Philosophers, we should have learned women. The world perhaps would laugh at me, and accuse me of vanity, but you I know have a mind too enlarged and liberal to disregard the Sentiment. If much depends as is allowed upon the early Education of youth and the first principals which are instill'd take the deepest root, great benefit must arise from literary accomplishments in women.

Also there was recognition in the value just of rearing children, as stated in these words attributed to Benjamin Franklin--admittedly one of my favorites, and every bit as applicable to a woman as to a man:

He that raises a large family does, indeed, while he lives to observe them, stand a broader mark for sorrow; but then he stands a broader mark for pleasure too.

Busy a woman might be, subjected to uncertainty and hardship and other trials of this life, but many is the wife, mother, grandmother, sister, or aunt who has enjoyed a deep and lasting relationship with those entrusted to her care. One might argue that a woman's life was no less fulfilling or significant then than it is today.

(A nod to Carla Gade's excellent article from two years ago, Motherhood in Colonial Times.)