Oct 5th Tuesday Called this forenoon upon Augusta
and then went into Olivers to dine & all my family
After dinner Mrs Norris & self called at Mr Torreys
and I then carried Mrs N to the cars. Augusta
went with us. When I returned Mrs Witherell &
Mrs S Ames called with me at Mr Whitwells on
Mrs Wordsworth & on Mrs Morse Our pianos came
A momentous day at the Ames homestead: Two pianos arrived from Boston – drawn by oxen, one would think – and were set up in the respective parlors on each side of the house. One was for Evelina’s daughter, Susan, and the other was for Sarah Ames Witherell’s daughter, Emily. Everyone, even the men of the family who were unlikely to play the instruments, must have been intrigued by the new additions to the parlors.
Modern historian Jack Larkin describes the stylish impact of the addition of a piano to a parlor in the mid-nineteenth century:
“The pianoforte, the direct ancestor of today’s piano, became the most decisive piece of American parlor furniture. That small minority of families – less than one in a hundred – who were able ‘to beautify the room by so superb an ornament,’ as a cynical music teacher suggested in the Boston Musical Intelligencer, had acquired ‘the ultimate badge of gentility…the only thing that distinguishes ‘decent people’ from the lower and less distinguished’ whether it was ever played or not.”*
It was certainly Evelina’s intention that this instrument would be played by her daughter Susan who, she believed, would learn to play it, and play it well. It was presumably Sarah Witherell’s desire as well that Emily would do the same. Did they imagine piano recitals and concerts taking place within their freshly-papered, newly decorated parlor walls? Did they believe that their daughters would excel and play as well as Helen Ames next door? Did their daughters share this expectation? Did their daughters even want to learn piano?
*Jack Larkin, The Reshaping of Everyday Life, New York, 1988, p. 143