18C Women + their Families & Friends by Henry Benbridge 1743-1812

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812). Margaret Cantey (Mrs. John Peyre).

Henry Benbridge (1744–1812), early American portrait painter, was born in Philadelphia, the only child of James & Mary (Clark) Benbridge. When he was 7 years old, his widowed mother married Thomas Gordon, a wealthy Scot. The boy's artistic talent was encouraged, as he made decorative designs for his stepfather's drawing-room.

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812) Gordon Family (his stepfather & mother Mary Clark Benbridge Gordon) 1763-65

When he was 21, Benbridge was sent to Italy, where he studied with Pompeo Batoni & Anton Raphael Mengs. From there he journeyed to London before returning to Philadelphia. Like other young Americans he was encouraged by Benjamin West. He wrote, on December 7, 1769, to his stepfather: "Upon my arrival I waited upon Mr. West who received me with a sort of brotherly affection, as did my cousin, Mrs. West." 

He left England in 1770, bearing from West the following note of recommendation to Francis Hopkinson: "By Mr. Benbridge you will receive these few lines. You will find him an Ingenous artist and an agreeable Companion. His merit in the art must procure him great incouragement and much esteem. I deare say it will give you great pleasure to have an ingenous artist resident amongst you."

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812) Mrs Charles Coteworth Pinckney Sarah Middleton Benbridge 1773

In Philadelphia, Benbridge married & was admitted to membership in the American Philosophical Society in 1771. Suffering from asthma & the cold of Philadelphia, he moved to Charleston, South Carolina, where he succeeded Jeremiah Theus as the region's popular portrait painter. Around 1800 Benbridge relocated to Norfolk, Virginia, & made frequent visits to his native Philadelphia. At Norfolk he gave Thomas Sully his first lessons in oil painting. Earlier in Charleston, he had instructed Thomas Coram. Sully described his master as "a portly man of good address–gentlemanly in his deportment."

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812) Archibald Bulloch Family 1775

Benbridge, who had certainly seen the lastest opulent fashion trends, as he studied in Italy with Pompeo Batoni & in England with expatriate Benjamin West, had a distrust of the trendy fashionable. In 1770, when his sisters were nearing marrying age, Benbridge wrote his mother from London, that his sisters "should not refuse a good plain honest Country farmer if such a one should offer himself with tolerable good estate, for one of the town who perhaps may have a better taste for dress, but not more merit, if perhaps as much."

1784 Henry Benbridge (1743-1812). Rachel Moore (Mrs. William Allston II).

When Benbridge had returned from Europe settling in Charlestown, South Carolina, to make a living painting portraits, he wrote to his sister Betsy in 1773, "Every kind of news here is very dull, the only thing attended to is dress and dissipation, & if I come in for a share of their superfluous Cash, I have no right to find fault with them, as it turns out to my advantage."

1790 Henry Benbridge (743-1812). Mary Boyer (Mrs. Robert Shewell).

In 1785, Benbridge, who loved the simple pleasures of gardening, was still worried about the too fancy dress of his son, Harry, whom Benbridge lovingly called "my little fellow." He wrote to his sister that he felt that his wife was dressing him in "too good things for a boy like him to wair, & likewise too many of them at once; he can't take care of them when he is at play & more common & Strong stuff in my Opinion would answer much better, & not fill his head with foolish notions of dress, which perhaps may be his bane."

1780s Henry Benbridge (1743-1812). Elizabeth Allston (Mrs. William H. Gibbes).

It is not surprising that Benbridge painted many of his female clients in dignified classical gowns looking serious, thoughtful, & restrained.

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812). Lady of the Middleton Family. 1780s

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812) Enoch Edwards Family 1779

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812) Mrs Benjamin Simons 1771-76

Henry Bendridge (1743-1812). The Hartley Family. 1787

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812). Sarah White (Mrs. Isaac Chanler). 1770s

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812 The Tannant Family 1770s

Attributed to Henry Benbridge (1743-1812). Rebecca Lloyd (Mrs Edward Davies) 1770s

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812) Mary Bryan Morel and Her Children c 17773

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812) Allegorical Portrait of young Sarah Flagg c 1774

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812). Mrs. Mumford Milner (Elizabeth Brewton) b 1786

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812) Rebecca Gordon (his half sister) 1770s

Henry Benbridge (1743-1812) Elizabeth Ann Timothy Mrs William Williamson c 1775-85

1770s Henry Benbridge (1743-1812). Charlotte Pepper (Mrs. James Gignilliat).

18C Considerations for Planning Meals in Colonial America

 

Colonial meal structures & serving times differ from today. Breakfast was taken early if you were poor, later if you were rich. There was no meal called lunch. Dinner was the mid-day meal. For most people in the 18th century it was considered the main (biggest) meal of the day. Supper was the evening meal. It was usually a light repast. It is important to keep in mind there is no such thing as a "typical colonial meal." The Royal Governor of Virginia ate quite differently from the first Pilgrim settlers and the West Indians laboring in Philadelphia's cook shops.

"Most New Englanders had a simple diet, their soil and climates allowing limited varieties of fruits and vegetables. In 1728 the Boston News Letter estimates the food needs of a middle-class 'genteel' family. Breakfast was bread an milk. Dinner consisted of pudding, followed by bread, meat, roots, pickles, vinegar, salt and cheese. Supper was the same as breakfast. Each famly also needed raisins, currants, suet, flour, eggs, cranberries, apples, and, where there were children, food for 'intermeal eatings.' Small beer was the beverage, and molasses for brewing and flavoring was needed. Butter, spices, sugar, and sweetmeats were luxuries, as were coffee, tea, chocolate, and alcoholic beverages other than beer."---A History of Food and Drink in America, Richard J. Hooker [Bobbs-Merrill Company:Indianapolis IN] 1981(p. 67)

"English settlers in teh seventeenth century ate three meals a day, as they had in England...For most people, breakfast consisted of bread, cornmeal mush and milk, or bread and milk together, and tea. Even the gentry might eat modestly in the morning, although they could afford meat or fish...Dinner, as elsewhere in the colonies, was a midday, through the wealthy were like to do as their peers in England did, and have it midafternoon...new England's gentry had a great variety of food on te table...An everyday meal might feature only one or two meats with a pudding, tarts, and vegetables...The different betweeen the more prosperous households and more modest ones might be in the quality and quantity of the meat served...Supper was a smaller meal, often similar to breakfast: bread, cheese, mush or hasty pudding, or warmed-over meat from the noon meal. Supper among the gentry was also a sociable meal, and might have warm food, meat or shellfish, such as oysters, in season."---Food in Colonial and Federal America, Sandra L. Oliver [Greenwood Press:Westport CT] 2005(p. 157)

"Breakfast. The Colonial American breakfast was far from the juice, eggs and bacon of today. The stoic early settlers rose early and went straight to the chores that demanded their attention. In frontier outposts and on farms, families drank cider or beer and gulped down a bowl of porridge that had been cooking slowly all night over the embers...In the towns, the usual mug of alcoholic beverage consumed upon rising was followed by cornmeal mush and molasses with more cider or beer. By the nineteenth century, breakfast was served as late a 9 or 10 o'clock. Here might be found coffee, tea or chocolate, wafers, muffins, toasts, and a butter dish and knife...The southern poor ate cold turkey washed down with ever-present cider. The size of breakfasts grew in direct proportion to growth of wealth. Breads, cold meats and, especially in the Northeast, fruit pies and pasties joined the breakfast menus. Families in the Middle Colonies added special items such as scrapple (cornmeal and headcheese) and dutch sweetcakes wich were fried in deep fat. It was among the Southern planters that breakfast became a leisurely and delightful meal, though it was not served until early chores were attended to and orders for the day given...Breads were eaten at all times of the day but particularly at breakfast."---A Cooking Legacy, Virginia T. Elverson and Mary Ann McLanahan [Walker & Company:New York] 1975 (p. 14)

"Dinner. Early afternoon was the appointed hour for dinner in Colonial America. Throughout the seventeenth century and well into the eighteenth century it was served in the "hall" or "common room." ..While dinner among the affluent merchants in the North took place shortly after noon, the Southern planters enjoyed their dinner as late as bubbling stews were carried into the fields to feed the slaves and laborers...In the early settlements, poor families ate from trenchers filled from a common stew pot, with a bowl of coars salt the only table adornment. The earliest trenchers in America, as in the Middle Ages, were probably made from slabs of stale bread which were either eaten with the meal or thrown after use to the domestic animals. The stews often included pork, sweet corn and cabbage, or other vegetables and roots which were available...A typical comfortably fixed family in the late 1700s probably served two courses for dinner. The first course included several meats plus meat puddings and/or deep meat pies containing fruits and spices, pancakes and fritters, and the ever-present side dishes of sauces, pickles and catsups...Soups seem to have been served before of in conjunction with the first course. Desserts appeared with the second course. An assortment of fresh, cooked, or dried fruits, custards, tarts and sweetmeats was usually available. "Sallats," (salads) though more popular at supper, sometimes were served at dinner and occasionally provided decoration in the center of the table...Cakes were of many varieties: pound, gingerbread, spice and cheese."---A Cooking Legacy (p. 24-28)

"Supper. What is there to say about a meal that probably did not even exist for many settlers during the eary days of the Colonies and later seemed more like a bedtime snack made up of leftovers?...In the eighteenth century supper was a brief meal and, especially in the South, light and late. It generally consisted of leftovers from dinner, or of gruel (a mixture made from boiling water with oats, "Indian," (corn meal) or some other meal). One Massachusetts diary of 1797 describes roast potatoes, prepared with salt but no butter. Ale, cider, or some variety of beer was always served. In the richer merchant society and in Southern plantation life, eggs and egg dishes were special delicacies and were prepared as side dishes at either dinner or supper...Supper took on added importance as the nineteeth century wore on. This heretofore casual meal became more important as dinner was served earlier in the day."---A Cooking Legacy (p. 79-81)

Colonial Era Cookbooks

1615, New Booke of Cookerie, John Murrell (London) 

1798, American Cookery, Amelia Simmons (Hartford, CT)

1803, Frugal Housewife, Susannah Carter (New York, NY)

1807, A New System of Domestic Cookery, Maria Eliza Rundell (Boston, MA)

1808, New England Cookery, Lucy Emerson (Montpelier, VT)

Helpful Secondary Sources

America's Founding Food: The Story of New England Cooking/Keith Stavely and Kathleen Fitzgerald Chapel Hill : University of North Carolina Press, 2004.

Colonial Kitchens, Their Furnishings, and Their Gardens/Frances Phipps Hawthorn; 1972

Early American Beverages/John Hull Brown   Rutland, Vt., C. E. Tuttle Co 1996 

Early American Herb Recipes/Alice Cooke Brown  ABC-CLIO  Westport, United States

Food in Colonial and Federal America/Sandra L. Oliver

Home Life in Colonial Days/Alice Morse Earle (Chapter VII: Meat and Drink) New York : Macmillan Co., ©1926.

A Revolution in Eating: How the Quest for Food Shaped America/James E. McWilliams New York : Columbia University Press, 2005.

Quaker Women Preachers in 1753 North Carolina

“The Lawfulness of Women Preaching”—Mary Peisley’s Journals & Letters 

by David Cecelski, August 11, 1018

Mary Peisley was a Quaker missionary from Ireland, who visited North Carolina's remote back roads & Indian paths in 1753-54 with her compnion Catherine Phillips. Together the two women explored the Carolina backcountry, followed the Cape Fear River to Wilmington & traveled north to the old Quaker meetings above the Albemarle Sound.

Mary Peisley wrote about the trials of traveling in the colony. “We rode two days & an half, & lay two nights in the woods, without being under the roof of a house,” she wrote at one point.

Elsewhere she recalled that they experienced “abundant hardships & sufferings of body” & often found “lodging in the woods in cold frosty weather, on damp grounds with bad firing.”

Yet, in a letter to an uncle, she also described the tranquility that she sometimes found in those hard circumstances. “I have sat down by a brook in the woods, eat my Indian-corn bread, & drank water out of a calabash, with more content & peace of mind than many who were served in plate, & at night have slept contentedly in my riding clothes, on a bed hard enough to make my bones ache, & the house so open on every side as to admit plenty of light & air.“

She wrote to her uncle, “I have compared my passage through these woods, to my pilgrimage through the world, & indeed in some things it bears a just resemblance; the path we rode through was exceeding narrow, & sometimes so closed as not to see a footstep before me, caught by boughs on one hand & bushes on the other, obliged to stoop very low, lest my head should be hurt or eyes pulled out: this I compare to the entangling things of the present world, which are ready to catch the affections on every side & blind the eyes of the soul.”

In that letter to her uncle, Peisley talked of astonishment at the degree of sickness & illness in the Carolina backcountry. “I do not remember that we have been in a house or family since we left Charleston, but one or more were ill of a fever or ague, so that it seems like an universal contagion which has overspread the inhabitants of this quarter.“

Often times the local religious meetings disappointed Peisley, but she & Phillips also preached at gatherings that lifted her spirits above the cold & illness around her.

After a meeting by the Neuse River, for instance, she wrote, “we had a large & comfortable meeting, in which I thought it might be truly said the Lord’s power was over all, & that even devilish spirits were made subject to that power, by which we were assisted to speak.”

As they rode from one Quaker meeting to the next, Mary Peisley remembered, they “were often kindly entertained, according to their ability, at the houses of these not of our society.” In her letters & journals, she expressed gratitude to those non-Quakers who gave them supper or took them in for a night’s lodging.

“Sometimes,” though, she wrote, “at our first entrance they would look strangely at us, because they understood not the lawfulness of women’s preaching, having never heard any.”

They stood out as women ministers, but they also were out of the ordinary, of course, because they were unmarried women & not traveling in the company of a husband, father, brother or son. “Thus did we pass for a sign & wonder,” Peisley wrote.

Though unaccustomed to women ministers, the local people had grown used to seeing other kinds of women traveling in the colony on their own.

In Some Account of the Life, Peisley recalled: “Some would say, when invited to a Quaker meeting, that we were women who ran from our own country for some ill act.” But the roadside inhabitants of colonial North Carolina took the women into their homes anyway.

She knew that they were unfamiliar with the role of women in early Quakerism. She also understood that they were “not …  acquainted with the supernatural power of love, which had influenced our hearts, nor the rules & discipline of friends.“

According to Peisley, many of those who greeted them so warily eventually even proved willing to listen to their Quaker teachings. “Through divine favour,” she wrote, “I have not heard of any of them who went away dissatisfied…”

See: Mary Peisley Neale's Some Account of the Life & Religious Exercises of Mary Neale, formerly Mary Peisley (Dublin, 1795) gives a view of their journey. Also from her journals & letters, her widowed husband, Samuel Neale, published the volume in Dublin in 1795.

Elizabeth Ashbridge (1713–1755) Sails to America & Becomes a Quaker

English-born Elizabeth Ashbridge (1713–1755) eloped at age 14 & was a widow 5 months later. Rejected by her family, she sailed for New York in 1732.

Forced to sign an indenture to pay for her passage, she worked as a house servant in conditions that "would make the most strong heart pity the Misfortunes of a young creature as I was." After 3 years she bought out the remainder of her contract supporting herself as a seamstress.

In New York, she married a man who was frequently violently drunk & who despised the Quaker religion. From New York, Elizabeth traveled to Philadelphia to visit relatives, and her husband followed.

When I came to Trent-town Ferry, I felt no small mortification on hearing that my relations were all Quakers, and, what was worst of all, that my aunt was a preacher. I was exceedingly prejudiced against this people, and often wondered how they could call themselves Christians.

I repented my coming, and was almost inclined to turn back; yet, as I was so far on my journey, I proceeded, though I expected but little comfort from my visit, How little was I aware it would bring me to the knowledge of the truth!

I went from Trent-town to Philadelphia by water, and from thence to my uncle’s on horseback. My uncle was dead, and my aunt married again; yet, both she and her husband received me in the kindest manner. I had scarcely been three hours in the house, before my opinion of these people began to alter.

I perceived a book lying upon the table, and, being fond of reading, took it up; my aunt observed me, and said, “Cousin, that is a Quaker’s book.” She saw I was not a Quaker, and supposed I would not like it. I made her no answer, but queried with myself, what can these people write about? I have heard that they deny the scriptures, and have no other bible than George Fox’s Journal,— denying, also, all the holy ordinances.

But, before I had read two pages, my heart burned within me, and, for fear I should be seen, I went into the garden. 1 sat down, and, as the piece was short, read it before I returned, though I was often obliged to stop to give vent to my tears. The fulness of my heart produced the involuntary exclamation of,

“My God, must I, if ever I come to the knowledge of thy truth, be of this man’s opinion, who has sought thee as I have done; and must I join this people, to whom, a few hours ago, I preferred the papists. O, thou God of my salvation, and of my life; who hath abundantly manifested thy long suffering and tender mercy, in redeeming me as from the lowest hell, I beseech thee to direct use in the right way, and keep me from error; so will I perform my covenant, and think nothing too near to part with for thy name’s sake. O, happy peoples thus beloved of God!”

Alter having collected myself, I washed my face, that it might not be perceived I had been weeping. In the night I got but little sleep; the enemy of mankind haunted me with his insinuations, by suggesting that I was one of those that wavered, and not steadfast in faith; and advancing several texts of scripture against me, as that, in the latter days, there should be those who would deceive the very elect; that of such were the people I was among, and that I was in danger of being deluded.

Warned in this manner, (from the right source as I thought,) I resolved to be aware of those deceivers, and for some weeks did not touch one of their books. The next day, being the first of the week, I was desirous of going to church, which was distant about four miles; but being a stranger, and having no one to go with me, I gave up all thoughts of that and, as most of the family were going to meeting, I went there with them.

As we sat in silence, I looked over the meeting, and said to myself, “How like fools these people sit; how much better would it be to stay at home, and read the Bible, or some good book, than come here and go to sleep.” As for me I was very drowsy; and, while asleep, had nearly fallen down. This was the last time I ever fell asleep in a meeting. I now began to be lifted up with spiritual pride, and to think myself better than they; but this disposition of mind did not last long.

It may seem strange that, after living so long with one of this society at Dublin, I should yet be so much a stranger to them. In answer, let it be considered that, while I was there, I never read any of their books nor went to one meeting; besides, I had heard such accounts of them, as made me think that, of all societies, they were the worst. But he who knows the sincerity of the heart, looked on my weakness with pity; I was permitted to see my error, and shown that these were the people I ought to join.

A few weeks afterwards, there was an afternoon meeting at my uncle’s, at which a minister named William Hammans was present. I was highly prejudiced against him when he stood up, but I was soon humbled; for he preached the gospel with such power that I was obliged to confess it was the truth. But, though he was the instrument of assisting me out of many doubts, my mind was not wholly freed from them.

The morning before this meeting I had been disputing with my uncle about baptisms which was the subject handled by this minister, who removed all my scruples beyond objection, and yet I seemed loath to believe that the sermon I had heard proceeded from divine revelation. I accused my aunt and uncle of having spoken of me to the friend; but they cleared themselves, by telling me, that they had not seen him, since my coming, until he came into the meeting.

I then viewed him as the messenger of God to me, and, laying aside my prejudices, opened; the beauty of which was shown to me, with the glory of those who continued faithful to it. I had also revealed to me the emptiness of all shadows and types, which, though proper in their day, were now, by the coming of the Son of God, at an end, and everlasting righteousness, which is a work in the heart, was to be established in the room thereof, I was permitted to see that all I had gone through was to prepare me for this day; and that the time was near, when it would be required of me, to go and declare to others what the God of mercy had done for my soul; at which I was surprised, and desired to be excused lest I should bring dishonour, to the truth, and cause his holy name to be evil spoken of.

Of these things I let no one know. I feared discovery and did not even appear like a friend.

I now hired to keep school, and, hearing of a place for my husband, I wrote, and desired him to come, though I did not let him know how it was with me.

I loved to go to meetings, but did not love to be seen going on weekdays, and therefore went to them. from my school, through the woods. Notwithstanding all my care, the neighbours, (who were not friends,) soon began to revile me with the name of Quaker; adding, that they supposed I intended to be a fool, and turn preacher.

Thus did I receive the same censure, which, about a year before, I had passed on one of the handmaids of the Lord in Boston. I was so weak, that I could not bear the reproach. In order to change their opinion, I went into greater excess of apparel than I had freedom to do, even before I became acquainted with friends. In this condition I continued till my husband came, and then began the trial of my faith.

Before he reached me, he heard I was turned Quaker; at which he stamped, and said, “I had rather have heard she was dead, Well as I love her; for, if it be so, all my comfort is gone.” He then came to me; it was after an absence of four months; I got up and said to him, “My dear, I am glad to see thee.”

At this, he flew into a great rage, exclaiming, “The devil thee, thee, thee, don’t thee me.” I endeavoured, by every mild means, to pacify him; and, at length, got him fit to speak to my relations. As soon after this as we were alone, he said to me, “And so I see your Quaker relations have made you one” I replied, that they had not, (which was true,) I never told them how it was with me.

He said he would not stay amongst them; and, having found a place to his mind, hired, and came directly back to fetch me, walking in one afternoon, thirty miles to keep me from meeting the next day, which was first day. He took me, after resting this day, to the place where he had hired, and to lodgings he had engaged: at the house of a churchwarden. This man was a bitter enemy of Friends, and did all he could to irritate my husband against them.

Though I did not appear like a Friend, they all believed me to be one. When my husband and he used to be making their diversions and reviling, I sat in silence, though now and then an involuntary sigh broke from me; at which he would say, “There, did not I tell you your wife was a Quaker, and she will become a preacher.”

On such an occasion as this, my husband once came up to me, in a great rage, and shaking his hand over me, said, “You had better be hanged in that day.” I was seized with horror, and again plunged into despair, which continued nearly three months. I was afraid that, by denying the Lord, the heavens would be shut against me.

I walked much alone in the woods, and there, where no eye saw, or ear heard me, lamented my miserable condition. Often have I wandered, from morning till night, without food, I was brought so low that my life became a burden to me; and the devil seemed to vaunt that, though the sins of my youth were forgiven me, yet now I had committed an unpardonable sin, and hell would inevitably be my portion, and my torments would be greater than if I had hanged myself at first.

In the night, when, under this painful distress of mind, I could not sleep, if my husband perceived me weeping, he would revile me for it. At length, when he and his friend thought themselves too weak to overset me, he went to the priest at Chester, to inquire what he could do with me.

This man knew I was a member of the Church, for I had shown him my certificate. His advice was, to take me out of Pennsylvania, and settle in some place where there were no Quakers. My husband replied, he did not care where we went, if he could but restore me to my natural liveliness of temper.

As for me, I had no resolution to oppose their proposals nor much cared where I went. I seemed to have nothing to hope for. I daily expected to be made a victim of divine wrath, and was possessed with the idea that this would be by thunder.

When the time of removal came, I was not permitted to bid my relations farewell; and, as my husband was poor, and kept no horse, I was obliged to travel on foot.

We came to Wilmington, fifteen miles, and from thence to Philadelphia by water. Here we stopt at a tavern, where I became the spectacle and discourse of the company. My husband told them his wife had become a Quaker; and he designed, if possible, to find out a place where there was none: (thought I,) I was once in a condition to deserve that name, but now it is over with me. O that I might, from a true hope, once more have an opportunity to confess the truth; though I was sure of all manner of cruelties, I would not regard them.

Such were my concerns, while he was entertaining the company with my story, in which he told them that I had been a good dancer, but now he could get me neither to dance or sing. One of the company then started up and said, “I’ll fetch a fiddle, and we’ll have a good dance;” a proposal with which my husband was pleased.

When the fiddle was brought, my husband came and said to me, “My dear, shake off that gloom, and let us have a civil dance; you would, now and then, when you were a good churchwoman, and that’s better than a stiff Quaker,”

I had taken up the resolution not to comply with his request, whatever might be the consequence; this I let him know, though I durst say little, for fear of his choleric temper. He pulled me round the room, till the tears fell from my eyes, at the sight of which the musician stopt, and said “I’ll play no more; let your wife alone...”

Finding that all the means he had yet used could not alter my resolutions, he several times struck me with severe blows. I endeavoured to bear all with patience, believing that the time would come when he would see I was in the right.

Once he came up to me, took out his penknife, and said, “If you offer to go to meeting to-morrow, with this knife I’ll cripple you; for you shall not be a Quaker.” I made hint no answer. In the morning, I set out as usual; he did not attempt to harm me.

Having despaired of recovering me himself, he fled, for help, to the priest, whom he told, that I had been a very religious woman, in the way of the Church of England, of which I was a member, and had a good certificate from Long Island; that I was now bewitched, and had turned Quaker, which almost broke his heart; and, therefore, he desired that, as he was one who had the cure of souls, he would come and pay me a visit, and use his endeavours to reclaim me, which he hoped, by the blessing of God, would be done.

The priest consented, and fixed the time for his coming, which was that day two weeks, as he said he could not come sooner. My husband came home extremely pleased, and told me of it. I replied, with a smile, I trusted I should be enabled to give a reason for the hope within me; yet I believed, at the same time, that the priest would never trouble himself about me, which proved to be the case.

Before the day he appointed came, it was required of me, in a more public manner, to confess to the world what I was. I felt myself called to give up to prayer in meeting. I trembled, and would freely have given up my life to be excused. What rendered the required service harder on me was, that I was not yet taken under the care of friends; and was kept from requesting to be so, for fear I should bring a scandal on the society. I begged to be excused till I had joined, and then I would give up freely.

The answer was, “I am a covenant-keeping God, and the word that I spake to thee, when I found thee in distress, even that I would never forsake thee, if thou wouldst be obedient to what I should make known unto thee, I will assuredly make good. If thou refusest, my spirit shall not always strive. Fear not, I will make way for thee through all thy difficulties, which shall be many, for my name’s sake; but, be faithful, and I will give thee a crown of life.” To this language I answered “Thy will, O God, be done; I am in thy hand, do with me according to thy word;” and I then prayed.

This day, as usual, I had gone to meeting on foot. While my husband (as he afterwards told me) was lying on the bed, these words crossed his mind “Lord, where shall I fly to shun thee,” &c. upon which he arose, and, seeing it rain, got the horse and set off to fetch me, arriving just as the meeting broke up.

I got on horseback as quickly as possible, lest he should hear I had been speaking; he did hear of it nevertheless, and, as soon as we were in the woods, began with saying, “Why do you mean thus to make my life unhappy? What, could you not be a Quaker, without turning fool in this manner?”

I answered in tears, “My dear, look on me with pity, if thou hast any; canst thou think that I, in the bloom of my days, would bear all that thou knowest of, and much that thou knowest not of, if I did not feel it my duty.” These words touched him, and he said, “Well, I’ll e’en give you up; I see it wont avail to strive; if it be of God I cannot overthrow it; and, if of yourself, it will soon fall.” I saw the tears stand in his eyes, at which I was overcome with joy, and began already to reap the fruits of my obedience. But my trials were not yet over...

One night in a drunken stupor her husband enlisted himself in the army and was soon called to serve, which he refused claiming his Quaker religion as the reason why. This resulted in a horrific beating that hospitalized & killed him within a year.

Five years later Elizabeth married a third husband, his name Aaron Ashbridge. Aaron was a well-known & respected member within the Quaker community in Chester County, Pennsylvania.

Source: Elizabeth Ashbridge, Some Account of the Early Part of the Life of Elizabeth Ashbridge (Philadelphia: H. and T. Kite, 1807).

1636 Harvard University - Women Students?

Harvard University 

Harvard University Established in 1636 in Cambridge, Massachusetts

Harvard was the first official college in the United States. It was named after John Harvard, who donated a large sum of money and a massive library of books to the school. 

In 1893, an alumni proposal reached the Divinity School, requesting that women be allowed to enroll. It took 60 years for the proposal to be granted by the Harvard Corporation, and in 1955, eight women joined the Harvard ranks.

1693 The College of William & Mary - Women Students?

The College of William & Mary

Established in 1693 in Williamsburg, Virginia

The second oldest college in America, the original plans for W&M can be traced all the way back to 1618—they never went through because of an "Indian uprising." In 1693, King William III and Queen Mary II of England signed the charter for the school, which went on to become William & Mary. In February, 1918, the Virginia General Assembly authorized William & Mary to admit women students, effective in the fall of 1918. 

In the fall of 1918, 24 women were admitted as undergraduate students at William & Mary. The men of the Class of 1918 lamented that they would be "the last class to graduate from the old college before it is defiled by coeducation." The Virginia Gazette editorialized that the admission of women had come "at the price of the womanhood Virginia had cherished as a sacred thing." The women of 1918 began at once to change the university. Excluded at first from participating in most existing activities, the women initiated intramural athletic competitions and organized a Women's Student Government. 

Weaving Flax from the Fields - Not Women's Work in the British American Colonies

Detail 1749 English Engraving Colonial Williamsburg

Kathy King tells us in her 2006 article in the Quarterly Archives of theTredyffrin Easttown (Pennsylvania) Historical Society that the colonists who sailed from England to "America left a sophisticated manufacturing economy where men, not women, did the weaving. This wasn't always the case. Through the early Middle Ages, women did all phases of textile manufacture. In fact, the word “wife” seems to be etymologically related to the word “weave.” But with the commercial expansion of the late 14C & early 15C, weaving became solely a male occupation. It had a lot to do with the rising strength of guilds. The guilds had strict requirements about who could join & who could weave. Guild regulations & municipal statutes forbade weavers from employing females. Also, the conditions under which an apprentice lived & worked weren't suitable for women, & an apprenticeship was required.

Craft guilds guarded the long-standing craft traditions & carefully governed the entry of workers into their organizations in an effort to sustain reasonable wages & a good standard of work. The women had always participated in spinning & continued to do all the spinning. The formal exclusion of females from the cloth-making & finishing sectors of textile manufacture was an important stricture, with the only exception being that the widow of a weaver could officially take over her husband's work & tools as long as she did not remarry. Laws restricting women from weaving persisted until about 1825.

"There was quite an organized division of labor. Subdividing the work increased productivity by reducing “every man's business to one simple operation.” So, if you purchased a piece of broadcloth 12 yards x 1¾ yards, 15 people probably had a hand in making it, with 5 or 6 people spinning & carding to produce enough to supply the weaver...

"Tradition held in the colonies. Men did the weaving & women did the spinning, with one big difference. There was no organized industry here. Typically, there was a single weaver, with maybe an apprentice or son, working in a small workshop or shed by his house. People in the area would spin their yarn & take it to him to have it woven according to their needs. It was called “bespoke” weaving. Likewise with shoemakers; you brought them your own leather. Unlike urban weavers who might specialize, rural weavers made a variety of linen & woolen goods. Some of the household goods they wove were sheets, towels, blankets, grain bags, & wagon covers."

See: Quarterly Archives : Volume 43 of the Tredyffrin Easttown (Pennsylvania) Historical Society Real Colonial Women Don't Weave Cloth by Kathy King Source: Spring 2006 Volume 43 Number 2, Pages 62–70     

1746 Princeton University - Women Students?

Early Princeton College

In 1746, Princeton was founded as the College of New Jersey. In 1756, the college was moved to Princeton, New Jersey, which is when the name was changed. Like many other colonial era colleges, it was first opened to train ministers.

Princeton enrolled its first female graduate student, Sabra Follett Meservey, as a PhD candidate in Turkish history in 1961. A handful of undergraduate women had studied at Princeton from 1963 on, spending their junior year there to study "critical languages" in which Princeton's offerings surpassed those of their home institutions. They were considered regular students for their year on campus, but were not candidates for a Princeton degree.

In 1967 Princeton University president Robert F. Goheen announced in The Daily Princetonian that "It is inevitable that, at some point in the future, Princeton is going to move into the education of women." Women were first accepted in 1969: 40 members of the class of 1973 and 90 transfer students.

Tea & Gossip - Satire

 

John Bowles, a British publisher & printer, produced this satire on gossiping women at the Tea Table in the early 18C.  Here five fashionable ladies drink tea at a table placed on a carpet in an affluent interior. On the table, as well as the tea service, are a closed fan, a muff and an open book lettered, "Chit Chat." A devil lurks beneath the table and Envy drives Justice and Truth out of a door at upper left; two gentlemen eavesdrop at an open window on the right. On the back wall, left to right: an alcove with shelves displaying porcelain, a fireplace above which is a painting showing a monk carrying a woman on his back towards a church or monastery, and a mirror in an elaborate frame. Three columns of etched verse describe the slanderous conversation taking place.
Etching and engraving

The inscription below the title with 69 lines of verse in 3 columns tells the tale...
"How see we Scandal (for our Sex too base) 
Seat its dread Empire in the Female Race, 
'Mong Beaus & Women, Fans & Mechlin Lace. 
Chief Seat of Slander! Ever there we see, 
Thick Scandal circulate with right Bohea. 
There Source of blakning Falshoods Mint of Lies 
Each Dame th' Improvment of her Talent tries, 
And at each Sip a Lady's Honour Dies 
Truth rare as Silence; or a Negro Swan, 
Appears among those Daughters of the Fan. 
Coumnta has the Chair, and deals the Tea, 
In Scandal none more eloquent than she. 
Great President! how just Precedence claim, 
Thy great Demerits, and thy greater Fame! 
In Female War the Dame's profoundly Skill'd; 
Her Tongue [The Magazine of Lies] is Steel'd 
With Rancour; & her Eyes, tho' form'd for none 
But the Destruction of our Sex alone, 
Can at Superior Worth take artfull Aim, 
And blast the Growth of Virtuous Cffilia's Fame, 
Destructive Malice Triumphs in her Smiles, 

Stabs home as Death and Sure as Would kills
Livia—for Sly Invention next to none,
By blaming other's Fictions rents her own:
By feigning to oppose she forms a Lie,
And hides her Malice in Hypocrisy.
Late at a Ball, where Livia constant is,
Her Charms Successfull, young Amanda tries;
Fairer than Blossoms of the Month of May,
Less fresh the Rose, nor Phillis self so Gay.
Steps so engaging, moves with Such a Grace;
Such cheerfull Sweetness Smiling in her Face,
With Wonder & Delight she fills the Plaee.
Each Youth with warm Desire, devours her Charms,
And thinks her clasp'd already in his Arms,
Each Eye with Greediness the Fair Surveys,
Nor ought is heard but in Amanda's Praise.

This Livia saw, and heard with Envy Straight, 
She, turning speaks her well disembl'd Spite, 
Yes (Livia cries) the Damsel Dances well, 
Her Mein is gracefull, and her Air Genteel: 
And is (I dare say) Chast; tho' comon Fame 
(Which seldom utters Truth delights in Blame) 

Censures her Intimacy with my Lord
Yon vicious powder'd Beau, with Ribbond Sword 
Enough, she gains her Point; thro' all the Throng 
The Scandal Spreads, improves on ev'ry Tongue, 
Who is the charming Fair, if any ask, 
'Tis answer'd Straight, a Sister of the Mask. 
Such are the Rest, and thus the Dames agree 
To load each absent Fair with Lifamy. 
Each Virtuous She, that dares these Belles outshine 
Falls a Sure Victim to their Goddess Spleen. 
Nor Hope, Thomasia, Justice from the Fair 
One Word in Virtue's Praise, is Treason there, 
'Tis so like Truth; nor blame, dear injur'd Maid, 
Of Spite or Calumny, the needfull Trade. 

The ninth Comand [were Moses Law in force] 
Would Stop their Breaths, or Murder their Discourse, 
Wits' Stocks would fall, Spoil many a pretty Tale, 
And hated Dumbness on the Sex entail, 
And wer't not pity Maura should be mute? 
Or Amia's pretty prating Mouth be shut? 
What nothing but the Truth? What then's become 
Of Gratia? she must Lie or else be Dumb. 

Be Dumb! she'll ne'er consent, she'll sooner Die, 
Or wear her Painted Callicoe awry, 
Than with that ninth Old-Fashiond Law comply, 
And loose her dear lov'd Volubility." 

A Brief Tea Timeline From China to Boston 12/16/1773 & 1776

 Tea Time Line

 Beatrice Hohenegger tells us about tea in her 2007 book Liquid Jade, The Story of Tea from East To West

BC 2732  Shen Nung, the second of China’s mythical emperors is said to have encountered the tea plant and to have discovered the use of tea. 

AD 520 Bodhidarma, a Buddhist priest from India, is said to have visited the Emperor of China.  Credited as China’s patriarch of Buddhism, Bodhidarma’s life is clad with legend, particularly related to long periods of meditation.  Portrayed without eyelids, he is said to have cut them out and cast them to the ground, at which point a tea bush appeared.  The story commemorates the importance of tea in wakefulness, and images of an unblinking Bodhidarma tie tea and zen together.  

780 Lu Yu, the Tea Sage, authored Ch’a-ching (The Classic of Tea), thought to be the first significant treatment on tea.  Born in 733, Hupeh Province, China, Lu Yu is said to have grown up in the Dragon Cloud Monastery.  

1502 Death of Murata Shuko (c 1422-1502), who shaped the Japanese tea ceremony as essentially Buddhist, as the way of tea (chado).  With this evolution, Japanese tea moved to simple surroundings and the use of more rustic objects. 

1559 Perhaps the first mention of tea in western literature, by Italian geographer & author Giambattista Ramusio (1485-1557), in Navigazioni et viaggi.  

1582 Rikyu (1522 -1591) consolidated the way of tea with construction of the Taian hut for Japan’s ruler, Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1537-1598).  

 1587 In early October, Rikyu hosted the great Kitano tea meeting (Kitano dai chakai) through patronage of Hideyoshi.   Followers of tea converged in the Kitano pine grove, where they constructed hundreds of tea huts for temporary use.  In succeeding years, Rikyu’s heirs would come to establish three main schools of tea (Urasenke, Omotesenke, and Mushanokojisenke), each based on principles of wa (harmony), kei (reverence), sei (purity), and jaku (tranquility). 

1610 First apparent importation of tea to Europe.  

1648 French doctor Guy Patin (1601-1672) was critical of a thesis on tea, stating: “One of our doctors who is more celebrated than able, named Morissot, wanting to bestow favor upon that impertinent novelty of the century… has had presented here a thesis on tea.  Everyone disapproved, some of our doctors burned it….”  

1660 Diarist Samuel Pepys (1633-1673) records on 25 September his first taste of tea, ordered at one of the many coffeehouses of London where tea was first served to the English.  Coffeehouses were still new, the first one having just opened ten years prior, and served coffee, tea, and chocolate.  

 1660 Under Charles II, (1630-1685) England established an excise tax of 8 pence on each gallon of tea that was sold.  The tax would eventually be levied on tea leaf, as it was too easy for merchants to manipulate the numbers.  

 1665 Simon Paulli (1603-1680), a German physician, claimed: “As to the virtues they attribute to it (tea), it may be admitted that it does possess them in the Orient, but it loses them in our climate, where it becomes, on the contrary, very dangerous to use.  It hastens the death of those who use it…” 

1667 The English East India Company, having begun importing tea in 1664, gained a monopoly when the English government declared Dutch imports illegal.  

1670 Thomas Garaway (1632-1704). opened a shop where tea was served until its closing two hundred years later.  Garaway had actively advertised and promoted tea for a decade, stating “that the Vertues and Excellencies of this Leaf and Drink are many and great is evident and manifest by the high esteem and use of it … among the Physitians and knowing men in France, Italy, Holland and other parts of Christendom.”  

1683 Dutchman, Cornelius Decker (aka Dr. Bontekoe) ((1648-1685) commented: “It must be a considerable and obstinate fever that cannot be cured by drinking every day forty to fifty cups of tea..”  

1717 Having opened Tom’s Coffee house in 1706, Thomas Twining (1675-1741) followed that success in opening the Golden Lyon, the first real English tea shop.  Women were welcome at Golden Lyon, and by 1725 Quaker Mary Tuke became the first woman licensed to merchandise tea.  

1773 On the evening of 16 December, American colonists boarded the ships Dartmouth, Eleanor, and Beaver, which were docked at the harbor in Boston, and threw 120,000 lbs of tea into the bay.  

January 1774 London learns of the destruction of the tea, and of other American protests

March 1774 Parliament passes the first of the so-called Coerciver Acts, the Boston Port Act, which closes the port of Boston until the town makes restitution for the tea

May 1774 Parliament passes two more laws for restoring order in Massachusetts. These laws limit town meetings, put the provincial council under royal appointments, and allow British civil officers accused of capital crimes to move their trials to other jurisdictions

1 June 1774 The Boston Port Act takes effect, and Governor Thomas Hutchinson departs for England, never to return. His replacement is General Thomas Gage, a military commander

Summer 1774 Massachusetts protesters resist the Coercive Acts by disrupting local courts and forcing councillors to resign their seats

September to October 1774 The First Continental Congress meets, declares opposition to the Coercive Acts, and calls for boycotts of British goods and an embargo on exports to Great Britain

February 1775 Parliament declares Massachusetts to be in a state of rebellion. Governor Gage will later receive orders to enforce the Coercive Acts and suppress the uprising

19 April 1775 British regular troops and Massachusetts militiamen exchange fire at Lexington and Concord. In response, armed New Englanders surround the British fortifications at Boston

March 1776 American forces take Dorchester Heights and the British evacuate Boston

July 1776 The Continental Congress adopts the Declaration of Independence of the United States