Evelina Gilmore Ames | evelinaames

January 24, 1852

1852

Jan 24th Saturday Worked all the forenoon mending

Olivers overcoat & pants. Have finished my worsted

hood in Olivers this afternoon. Julia Pool

Augusta & Edwin were there to tea. Mr Ames

has been to Boston & has brought home Oliver a

gold watch Fred & Oliver have fine time and

are wide awake They sleep together. Fred came

in here tonight.

Evelina must have written this entry at night, perhaps in her bedroom where she could hear her son Oliver (3) and nephew Fred Ames conversing and laughing elsewhere in the house. The first cousins, college men both, enjoyed one another’s company and were spending the night together. Up to now, they were the only family members in recent memory to go to university and must have had some stories to compare.

The fond regard that Oliver (3) and Fred held for one another would last throughout their lives, although it would be sorely tested on occasion. As grown men caught up in the high stakes of the railroad business, they found themselves holding opposing views more than once. And after the sudden death of Oakes Ames and the attendant financial woes that followed, Oliver (3) defended his father’s legacy, while Fred supported his own father’s efforts to recoup funds that Oliver, Jr. believed were his. In other words, Oliver (3) and Fred faced off over money. Yet they moved in similar circles, invested in similar capitalist ventures and, in 1893, when Fred himself died quite suddenly, Oliver (3) grieved, “completely broken down by [the] sad news.”*

Those difficult times lay ahead, but on this day, Oliver (3) had something to celebrate. His father, Oakes, had given him a gold watch, perhaps in honor of his 21st birthday, which was right around the corner. Perhaps, too, Oakes was honoring his middle son for his successful studies at Brown University, studies that Oakes had initially resisted. The watch was certainly a sign that Oakes was proud.

*Oliver Ames Third, Diary, September 13, 1893, Collection of Stonehill College Archives

January 23, 1852

Currier & Ives, Winter in the Country: Getting the Ice, 1864

1852

Jan 23d Friday Have had a hard days work. Heat the

brick oven 4 times. Baked mince & dried apple

pies brown bread cup cake & ginger snaps.

Had quite a fright about Oliver & Fred being

away at tea time was affraid they had got into the

pond where they had been cutting ice for the ice house

found them at Edwins. Mrs S Ames went with me

about 8 Oclock into Edwins

There are few things scarier for a parent than having a child – whatever the age – not come home when expected. Evelina and her sister-in-law Sarah Lothrop Ames had “quite a fright” when their sons, Oliver (3) and Fred Ames, respectively, didn’t return home from a day spent outside, harvesting ice at a family pond. The pond was some distance from the family compound, out of earshot. At tea time, no one was able to report on their whereabouts. The boys might have fallen in.

The worried mothers went out after dark to search for their sons and found them practically next door. They were fine. Oliver and Fred had stopped to call on Oliver’s cousin, Edwin Gilmore, and were presumably unaware that their absence had alarmed anyone. How relieved Evelina and Sarah must have been.

For the young men, the day spent working outdoors in the cold sunshine must have been an invigorating change from their college studies, and for their grandfather, Old Oliver, their participation in the important annual harvest of ice must have been gratifying.

January 21, 1852

1852

Jan 21st Wednesday. Had quite a job to thaw out the boiler

in the bathing room which was left Saturday evening

for Mr Ames to take a bath which he chose not

to take & was forgotten. A tin pail of water was frozen

so hard as to burst out the bottom, so much

for forgetfulness & carelessness. Oliver came home

this evening and brought me a picture a present from my

sons. Mrs. Witherell & Ames spent part of the evening

Bathing in 19th century America was an improvement over the hygiene practices on the 18th century, but still less frequent than today. Where we might shower once a day, people like the Ameses might bathe once a week, often on a Saturday night in order to be clean for Sunday service. Others bathed less, or differently. For some, sponging off was preferable to full immersion in a tub.

Oakes Ames had his Saturday night bath lined up to go, but decided against it and left the water behind to the mercy of the cold bathing room, where it froze. Evelina had to clean up the consequent spill, tsk-tsking all the while about “forgetfulness & carelessness.” This small vignette does suggest just how cold the room was where they bathed. Regardless of the temperature of the water, stepping in or out of the tub was chilly. No wonder they didn’t bathe every day.

The day wasn’t all bad, however. Evelina’s sons, led by middle child Oliver (3), gave her a gift, a picture. What was the occasion? Not her birthday, not Christmas. Perhaps just a spur-of-the-moment thank you for being their mother. The gesture seems sweet, thoughtful and generous.

January 19, 1852

Fashion illustration from Godey’s Lady’s Book, 1850

1852

Jan 19th Monday Susan washed the dishes and after doing

my usual mornings work commenced sewing some pieces

of fur that was taken off my cloak for Susan a muff

to carry to school. Finished it before dark and in

the evening made over her best muff and it looks

as well if not better than when new. feel very well

satisfied with my days work Very cold.

The snow continued today. According to Old Oliver Ames, “it snowd all last night + more than half the day to day and it was a verry cold storm – it did not snow fast any part of the time and all that has come now will not measure more than 6 inches on a level. it drifted considerable and is dry + light.”*

Susan Ames probably would appreciate the muff that her mother was making for her to keep her hands warm. She already had one for “best” to wear to church, but this one would be for everyday. Made from recycled pieces of fur off her mother’s cloak, Susie would be making quite a fashion statement for a nine-year-old school child, most of whose classmates would likely have worn mittens. Even Meg and Jo March had to walk to their jobs without muffs, holding instead warm popovers fresh from the oven to keep their fingers from numbing up.

At day’s end, Evelina was “very well satisfied” with the muffs she had reworked. The household today appears to have been running well which would have amplified Evelina’s happy mood. Jane McHanna must have worked some magic to get the laundry done despite the snow storm.

*Oliver Ames, Journal, Stonehill College Archives, Arnold Tofias Collection

January 16, 1852

1852

Jan 16th Friday Made the bed in the front chamber and

put the room in order swept the stairs &c &c

worked on Susans morino hood Mrs Wm Reed &

Mrs Hall called Augusta & Edwin here to tea and

spent most of the evening Edwin put the casters

on my hourglass table and I nearly finished putting

on the cover Mrs S Ames called a few moments.

In between the day’s activities of choring, sewing and finishing up a project for newlyweds Edwin and Augusta Gilmore, Evelina received several callers, including Abigail Reed, wife of the elderly William Reed, and a Mrs. Hall. Evelina had called on Mrs Reed the day before; Mrs Reed returned the courtesy today. Paying calls was an intrinsic part of social life in the nineteenth century, especially among women and especially in cities, but also in smaller country towns such as Easton. Social exchange, which in the country had been a somewhat relaxed occurrence based on an informal combination of need, opportunity and desire, was becoming ritualized.

As of 1850, social visits were beginning to follow a proscribed pattern, like the one described in The Art of Pleasing,* written about this time. On the topic of “Receiving Visitors”:

“To receive visitors with ease and elegance, and in such a manner that everything in you, and about you, shall partake of propriety and grace, – to endeavor that people may always be satisfied when they leave you, and be desirous to come again, – such are the obligations of the master, and especially of the mistress of a house.

“Everything in the house ought, as far as possible, to offer comfort and grace. Perfect, exquisite neatness and elegance, which easily dispense with being sumptuous, ought to mark the entrance of the house, the furniture, and the dress of the lady.”

In a cautionary paragraph, the author goes on to advise against sewing when company calls: “If a lady who receives a half ceremonious visit is sewing, she ought to leave off immediately, and not resume it except at the request of the visitor.” That stricture may have been a difficult one for Evelina to follow, given how incessantly she sewed. But she and her sisters-in-law would have striven to be au courant with the etiquette of the day.

Before many more years went by, the phenomena of calling cards would be introduced, creating “an increasingly complex etiquette which determined the length and frequency of calls, whether a call should be returned or not and the sorts of people to whom a family was, or was not, ‘at home.’ Families connected by kinship, business and politics interchanged calls and invitations, but ranked and classified their acquaintances in ever more precise grades of social acceptability.”** These new rules would apply particularly to the next generation of Ameses.

* H. M. Rulison, The Art of Pleasing, Cincinnati, 1853, pp. 27-28

** Jack Larkin, The Reshaping of Everyday Life, 1988, p. 265

January 14, 1852

Jan 14th Wednesday Have been to work some on a

morino hood for Susan to wear to school Augusta called

this forenoon and I went home with her to assist her in

cutting her cake to send to her friends This afternoon

have been to N. Bridgewater and called on Miss Foss

with Mrs S Ames Emily & Susan bought Edwin a clock

Called at Edwins and staid till about eight Oclock this

evening spent the rest of it at Olivers

Orinthia Foss is back. “Miss Foss,” as Evelina calls her, more formally than usual, had taught school in Easton the previous year, living part of that time with the Ames family. Although twenty years younger than Evelina, the two women had become close friends, often sewing, gardening and socializing together. When Orinthia left to go back to her family in Maine, Evelina had missed her. Now, Orinthia had returned and was teaching in North Bridgewater (today’s Brockton).

Evelina, Sarah Lothrop Ames, and the girls Susie and Emily rode to Bridgewater to call on Orinthia, a reunion that was presumably happy and animated. The women also did some shopping. Evelina, feeling pleased, bought a gift for her nephew Edwin Gilmore, despite having made a table for him and his bride, Augusta. She had been over at the newlyweds’ home earlier in the day, in fact, showing Augusta how to cut up the wedding cake that she herself had made. Pieces of the cake would be sent out to friends and relatives as a keepsake. Wedding cakes were meant to bring luck to the new couple.

Back in Easton, Old Oliver noted that “we kild a yoke of oxen I bought at randolph for 125$ one of them weighd 1359 + the other 1277 one of their hyde weighd 116 lb and the other 104 pounds”. There would be beef and tripe headed for Evelina’s kitchen.

January 12, 1852

Jan 12 Monday Susan washed the dishes this morning

and I went to work on my plants making some frames

for them and was to work on them and about the

house all the forenoon. This afternoon have been

mending pants for Oakes Angier. Have put a new

pocket into one pair Jane washed and has been to see

Mrs Savage Carried Augusta’s cake over to her and

Called a few minutes on Mrs Sarah Ames Very cold

After breakfast each morning, a stack of dishes awaited washing in the Ames kitchen, numbering approximately seven plates, seven cups, seven saucers, 14-21 pieces of cutlery, various serving platters and bowls and serving spoons, plus the pots and pans used in preparation.

Hot water would be boiled and poured into a bucket or perhaps a basin set inside a dry sink. Using a cake of homemade soap, either chipped into the water or swirled by hand, Susie Ames or Jane McHanna or Evelina herself from time to time, washed each item with a washrag, rinsed the piece in a separate pan of clean water and placed it on a rack to dry or be wiped dry with a dish towel. The chore could take 30 to 45 minutes, and had to be repeated at dinner and tea. It wasn’t as convenient as hand-washing dishes today – no liquid soap, no faucet spray – and it certainly wasn’t like loading the dishwasher.

Inventors, in fact, were trying to develop a machine that would wash dishes; the first such patent was filed in 1850. It wasn’t until 1886, however, that a wealthy woman named Josephine Garis Cochrane would make the first successful dishwashing machine. She didn’t wash dishes herself, but her servants did and often chipped the ceramic plates in the process. Impatient with the damage, as well as the length of time it took to wash all the dishes after the many dinner parties she gave, she decided to make a machine to do the work.

Mrs. Cochrane contrived a wire rack shaped for various specific dishes to fit inside a wheel inside a copper boiler. “A motor turned the wheel while hot soapy water squirted up from the bottom of the boiler and rained down on the dishes.”* The dishwasher was born. It went on to be displayed at the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago, where it won a prize. The Garis-Cochrane Company was formed and manufactured dishwashers until bought by KitchenAid, which in turn is owned by Whirlpool.

All this was a far cry from nine-year old Susie Ames washing up the breakfast dishes, plate by plate.

* Wikipedia, “Josephine Cochrane”, January 10, 2015

January 9, 1852

1852 Friday Jan 9th

[…]Have had about 30 here this evening and

quite a pleasant time though the weather not

pleasant. Lavinia came here with Augustus last

night and we ladies have had a nice time making

cake and getting ready for them Helen & Lavinia

made the bed in the front chamber to suit themselves

Oakes and Evelina Ames hosted a wedding reception at their house for newlyweds Edwin and Augusta Pool Gilmore, attended by members of the extended Gilmore and Pool families who traveled through inclement weather to get there. The celebration, complete with cake and tea – but no wine – was “quite a pleasant time.” What a special occasion for a cold, dark time of year.

The preparations for the party had been fun, too. Lavinia Gilmore, sister of the groom, had been driven back to Evelina’s, carried by her brother Augustus Gilmore, to help with the cake. More cake! Helen Angier Ames had walked over from next door, again. The two young unmarried women had a sleep-over at their Aunt Evelina’s.

What might the cake have been made of? Sarah Josepha Hale offers up quite a recipe for a wedding cake in her 1841 The Good Housekeeper:

‘Take two pounds and a half of dried and sifted flour, allow the same quantity of fresh butter washed with rose water, two pounds of finely pounded loaf sugar, three pounds of cleaned and dried currants, one pound of raisins stoned, one nutmeg grated, half a pound of sweetmeats cut small, a quarter pound of blanched almonds pounded with a little rose water, and twenty eggs, the yolks and whites separately beaten.

The butter must be beaten by hand till it becomes like cream; then add the sugar, and by degrees the eggs; after these, the rest of the ingredients, mixing in at last the currants, with nearly a tea-cupful of rose or orange flower water. This mixture must be beaten together rather more than half an hour, then put into a cake-pan, which has previously been buttered and lined with buttered paper; fill it rather more than three quarters full. It should be baked in a moderate oven for three hours, and then cooled gradually, by at first letting it stand some time at the mouth of the oven.

If you fear the bottom of the cake may burn, put the pan on a plate with saw-dust between.”*

*Sarah Josepha Hale, The Good Housekeeper, 1841, p. 100

January 6, 1852

Augusta Pool Lavinia Gilmore

1852

Tues Jan 6 th

A heavy snow storm commenced about

10 Oclock Mrs Witherell & her children have been

to the funeral in a waggon had a hard time getting

home. Augusta and Lavinia have been at Edwins

house getting it in order for housekeeping. This

evening have helped me stone raisons for cake Edwin

came with them to tea

The bad weather continued, bringing snow that Sarah Witherell and her children, George and Emily, had to fight their way through as they returned from a funeral in a wagon. As Sarah Witherell’s father, Old Oliver, noted, it “snowd all day and in the evening. it was a damp snow and fell level.

Evelina was safe inside, out of the weather. With her were her 19-year-old niece, Lavinia Gilmore, and Augusta Pool, a 22-year-old who was about to marry Lavinia’s brother, Edwin. The two young women had been at Edwin’s house for much of the day, “getting it in order.” How exciting, and perhaps a little scary, for Augusta to be getting married and moving into a new house in the village of North Easton. She had always lived out in the country, not far from the Gilmore farm, which is how she got to know Edwin. In fact, Augusta’s older brother, John Pool, was married to Rachael Gilmore, Lavinia and Edwin’s older sister. They would be double-siblings-in-law. (There must be a more official word for the relationship when a brother and sister from one family marry a sister and brother, respectively, from another family.)

When they finished today’s work at Augusta’s new home, the two girls walked over to Evelina’s to help her stone raisins for the wedding cake. Evelina may have put the raisins in a little warm water to plump them up before popping the seeds out. Edwin, groom-to-be, joined the women and the rest of the family for tea once the men all arrived home from work.

* Photographs courtesy of The Easton Historical Society, with thanks to Frank Mennino, curator

January 4, 1852

1852

Sunday Jan 4th

Another stormy day and no one been to meeting

Mr Swain called & got some of Harpers Magazines

I have spent the day as I perhaps ought not in looking

over my accounts. Have been taking off the boys accounts

for the last year and Susans. Mr Ames gave me

one hundred dollars. It has been a long dull day

with me Mr Ames has been in part of the time

Evelina focused on money today, as she “perhaps ought not” to have done. It was Sunday, after all, and reviewing one’s personal account was too much like doing work on the day of rest. But she couldn’t get to church because of the weather, so she found a useful way to spend time in an otherwise “dull” day.

The gift (or allowance?) that Oakes Ames gave Evelina may have provided the impetus to examine the family finances. The $100 was most likely given in the form of specie, or coins. At this period in American finance, gold and silver coins contained their exact value in metal. Thus Evelina would have received precisely $100 in gold or silver, at least for the time being. That equation of value would soon change, as the influx of gold from California was upsetting the market. Gold prices would go down and silver would go up.

Paper money at this time was limited to bank notes, and the government-issued $100 “greenback” in the illustration above would only come into existence during the Civil War, when the U.S. needed to generate cash to fund the Union Army. That $100 bill, controversial in its day, laid the foundation for a permanent U. S. currency not based on a silver or gold standard.

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