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Army: Camp Followers and Community during the American Revolution (Mayer), which I drew heavily on while writing my yet-unpublished RevWar story, Loyalty's Cadence, and for a previous article on camp-following wives (see also the excellent article on the same subject by Joan Hochstetler).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.)

Motherhood in Colonial Times

In the Colonial period, families were essential for the welfare of the community. The role of motherhood was a high calling and a necessary role. After a woman became married, between the ages of twenty and forty-five, much of her life was spent as a mother. It was entirely normal for her to be pregnant or nursing during most of her lifetime with children coming on an average about two and a half years apart. Nursing was a natural method of birth control. Most mothers gave birth to eight, twelve, and sometimes more children as a large family was considered an asset. But the mortality rate was high in infants and children in those early days with so much infection and disease. Some parents did not name a child immediately. Others, as I have seen in my own ancestry, named a later born child after one previously deceased. I cannot imagine how they bore such heartache.

Mothers in colonial times a women of the gentry would have servants to help her raise her children such as a wetnurse, nanny, and governess. A mother in he middling class may have some assistance, but for certain a mother of any other means would have full charge of her own offspring under normal circumstances. If the mother were in financial need she may have to find a creative arrangement for childcare so she could be employed. When a son or daughter were old enough she would have them apprenticed out, even at a young age, so they could learn the skills necessary for providing their own way. Many were a sacrifice of a mother. Yet, quite often a daughter would sit at her mother's side to prepare for her own future role as a wife and mother and learn skills such as cooking, sewing, and spinning. Those who did not become wives and mothers for various reasons were considered spinsters, which by 1716 became a legal terms which simply referred to a maiden lady who was typically past the age of spinning (at home with her mother.). "Spinsters" often enjoy children and have typically lent supportive roles to many families through the ages.

This post is in honor of Judith Greenleaf (Somerby) Coffin, one of my colonial New England grandmothers. Born in 1715, Judith was a first settler in Massachusetts who came from Ipswich, England. She first married and gave birth to four children, three surviving. As a widow, she married again and had ten more children, one dying at age 12. Two sons were lost in Indian wars, one was only 16. Her youngest was born when she was age 43, a grandmother to six. In 1795, Judith passed away at the age of 80 having lived to see 177 children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren which was very rare in those times. Ten of her progenitors were named Judith. Her epitaph credits her as being "Grave, sober, faithful, fruitful vine was she, a rare example of true piety."

New Englander Carla Gade is a best selling author of eight books. Check her new release Love's Compass, an 1875 western and Pattern for Romance, set in colonial Boston.