Helen Angier Ames | evelinaames

May 15, 1852

May 1852

Saturday 15th Have been mending a lot of stockings

that have bee[n] put by for a week or two Spend

too much time in the garden Gave Mrs Gilmore

Augusta & Abby some plants & flower seeds

Abby stoped a couple of hours Gave Susan a bath

and took one myself and the afternoon thus passed

Spent the evening Helen is much better she has

had a sorry time of it Quite pleasant

Today was “cloudy all day but a little warmer,”* according to Old Oliver. The bath water that Evelina and her daughter Susie used was in no danger of freezing, as it had earlier in the year when Oakes had planned to bathe but forgot and left the the water to freeze in the pail. The water in the pail should have been poured into a tub not unlike the one in the illustration above, copper-lined, claw-footed, and rimmed in oak. That Evelina mentioned taking a bath suggests that bathing was not a regular event; personal hygiene operated under a different set of standards in the 19th century.

The baths, taken in the Ames’s indoor bathing room, probably felt quite relaxing, even therapeutic after the stress and grief of the week gone by. For Evelina, even just mending the hose that had sat untended would have been a welcome return to normalcy after the death of young George Witherell. Working in the garden, too, would have been a pleasure. Her plants were doing so well, in fact, that she had plenty to spare and give away to some of her female relatives.

Next door, fifteen year old Helen Angier Ames was finally recovering from an infection on her face, an abscess or boil, that had been lanced the day before. The procedure had been successful, and the family’s health concerns seemed to be put away, at least for now.

May 14, 1852

Susan Eveline Ames (French)

1852

May 14th Susan ten years old to day. Her father &

I have promised her 10 dollars each if she will

be a good girl and keep herself neat till her

next birth day. Have been to work some on

Susans delaine dress altering it The gardener

laid out my verbena and I set out some slips

From the house Malvina came to stop the night

Helen had her face lanced Not pleasant

Last year for her birthday, Susie Ames had a little party. Not so this year, her birthday coming too close on the heels of the death of her cousin George Witherell. Instead, her parents made her a generous promise of “10 dollars each,” if she behaved well and kept “herself neat” for the next year. Those were high expectations for a child, even a Victorian one.

Next door, Helen Angier Ames was still suffering from her own difficult ailment, that of a swollen face. Was it an abscess, or a boil, or something else? The doctor came again to see her and this time lanced her face. Not a pleasant procedure, one imagines. Otherwise, in the main house, family members seemed to be settling back into the normal domestic routine. Eveline sewed and gardened; her verbena and more went into the ground, despite the continued stormy weather.

May 12, 1852

Wednesday May 12th Helped Mrs Witherell make Georges robe

Planted some seeds that Mrs Howard gave me

and African rose sent from Andover. Have ripped

the skirt from Susans borage delaine to lengthen

it Swept & dusted my chamber &c &c Jane had

finished the ironing Have not felt very well

have not got over being broken of my rest. It has

rained since nine Oclock quite fast

A new gardener commenced work today

What sad sewing went on today. Sarah Ames Witherell, a thoughtful, dutiful woman who had sewn so many things for friends and family, now sat and made a shroud for her first-born child, George. Only fourteen years-old, he had died the day before after a painful bout of rheumatic fever. Of the three children Sarah had borne, only her middle child, Emily, was still alive.

The steady rain must have enhanced the gloom. Old Oliver wrote that “it began to rain before noon wind north east and it grew cold and raind all the afternoon.”* Evelina must have done her planting first thing in the morning, after which she helped Sarah with the robe for George. She also worked on a skirt for Susan, and swept and dusted while Jane McHanna ironed. She was probably not the only family member who was recovering from “being broken of my rest.” Everyone was trying to return to a normal routine after the disruption and sorrow of George’s illness, although next door, Helen Angier Ames was still suffering from a case of blisters and facial swelling.

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

May 11, 1852

Abbott H. Thayer, Angel, 1887, oil
Smithsonian American Art Museum
Gift of John Gellatly

Tuesday May 11th George died this morning about eleven

Has not spoken so that we could understand

since yesterday noon. died at last very easy

without a struggle or groan. Mrs S Ames & self

laid him out, His mother has slept but about

two hours for two days and nights. Have trimmed

my straw bonnet. Miss Copeland sewed it over Spent

about two hours in Olivers this afternoon. Helen has a

blister on her arm The gardener set out some rose plants.

Prairie Rose Baltimore bell and Fraxinella sent

from Boston

George Oliver Witherell, aged fourteen, died on this day from rheumatic fever. He had been suffering for many days, but “died at the last very easy.” His Aunt Evelina had been with him for much of the illness, spelling his exhausted mother, Sarah Ames Witherell. She and her other sister-in-law, Sarah Lothrop Ames (who had her own sick child at home), laid out the corpse.

The family must have expected George’s death by this stage of his illness; certainly the attending physician had already predicted it. But anticipation is not the same as actuality, and the death of the young man would have hit everyone hard. Evelina dwelt in her diary on George’s last few minutes, but then added a few mundane notes about her summer bonnet, her niece Helen’s continued battle with an unnamed infection, and some new additions to the flower garden. She might have wished to move on to less painful concerns.

George’s grandfather, Old Oliver, noted his grandson’s death succinctly: “George Witherell dyed to day about eleven O clock.” Oliver rarely included personal items in his daily record; that he wrote of George’s death is a sign of regard, however minimal we might consider it. His grief would have been real.

Of Sarah Ames Witherell’s feelings, we’re told nothing, and must imagine her utter exhaustion and complete sorrow.

May 10, 1852

Monday May 10th Do not feel very well to day. Slept in

the light bedroom so as to assist Sarah in taking

care of George. He knows everyone but otherwise

is not conscious and since noon does not notice

all all. The Dr has given up all hopes of him

I planted most of my flower seeds this

afternoon felt sorry to do so but it is getting late

The women in the Ames compound were becoming exhausted with tending to two very sick young people, George Oliver Witherell and Helen Angier Ames. It was George, however, who had entered a dangerous phase. He had been suffering from rheumatic fever for many days and was now unconscious. His doctor had finally “given up all hopes of him.” How terrified the family must have been; no doubt prayers were being lifted in the hope that George might yet recover.

Evelina broke away from her nephew’s bedside to work in her garden. She “felt sorry to do so,” but the seeds needed to be planted. To wait too long would be to lose the best timing for the flowers. She might have felt relieved to kneel down in the soil and push little seeds into place, each seed a hopeful gesture in the face of helplessness.

May 9, 1852

Sunday May 9th Our own family all went to meeting

& Oliver George is much worse and we fear

will never be any better is very much out of his

head Helen is quite sick with her face

had the Dr Went into Mrs John Howards

at noon & carried her some flower seeds.

Mr & Mrs Swain made a long call this afternoon

after they left I went to sit with George to assist

Sarah They are laying a wet sheet once an hour

George Witherell was getting sicker and sicker. Perhaps to lower his temperature and reduce the involuntary spasms in his limbs and face, his family and physician were “laying a wet sheet once an hour.” They wrapped his body in a cold, wet sheet, and covered him with wool blankets to make him sweat. Everyone was trying to bring down his fever, soothe his nervous system and help him sleep. It was a desperate measure, but in the absence of effective medicines, it was the only option.

A wet-sheet wrap is a form of hydrotherapy, a controversial treatment meant to quiet a violent or agitated person. Opponents of this form of hydrotherapy feel that it’s been misused in certain psychiatric institutions, some patients attesting to being tied up for ten to twelve hours in icy sheets, an application that seems more punitive than restorative. Yet others in the medical profession, such as alternative care-givers in our modern age, tout wet-sheets – if applied properly – as a healthful therapy that induces sleep and calms the nervous system. Its effectiveness seems tied to the intention of the person applying the therapy and the nature of the illness of the person being wrapped.

Helen Angier Ames next door was also “quite sick.” No wet sheets for her, but she was having her swollen face attended to. It sounds as if she might have had a bad abscess, also a dangerous condition in the era before antibiotics. Dr. Swan, if it was he who was attending the Ameses, was being kept busy. His little gig would have been pulling up to the Ames compound at all hours of the day and night. Few in the family were getting any rest. Evelina left the house briefly, to take some flower seeds to Caroline Howard, but returned home to help her sister-in-law.

May 8, 1852

1852

Saturday May 8th Mrs Witherell has finished working

my Delaine sleeves and I have put them in

and have finished the dress which I think

is about time. I sit with George for Mrs Witherell

to lay down this afternoon He is very sick and

suffers very much. Mr Manly brought me some

more plants & I paid him 1,58 cts. Oliver &

Brown returned this morning

George Witherell, fourteen years old, was ill with rheumatic fever. In the age before antibiotics, the “rheumatics,” as Evelina called it, was a serious illness. It was a complication of strep throat, which George must have had three or four weeks earlier. Its symptoms, many of which George manifested, were fever; a flat rash; involuntary twitching in the hands, feet and face; painful, tender and swollen joints; chest pain; palpitations and fatigue. As Evelina noted, George suffered a great deal, for rheumatic fever was extremely uncomfortable and unsettling. It was also often fatal.

Sarah Ames Witherell had been nursing her son for several days now. She took a rest in the afternoon and let Evelina sit with George. All the family was helping, although George wasn’t the only sick child. Helen Angier Ames next door was down, too, with a somewhat mysterious ailment in her face. Family members were worried about both young people.

Despite the concern everyone must have been feeling, normal routines in this season of planting had to be adhered to. Old Oliver reported that “we began to plow the hill back of the shovel shop pond to day.”

May 7, 1852

Polyanthus

Friday May 7th Was in the garden to work a short

time transplanted some pinks but worked on

Olivers clothes most of the time. Mr Brown &

Oliver rode to Mr Copelands and got me a polyanthus

and to the furnace in the afternoon to Canton

and Sharon. Mrs S Ames returned from Boston to

night & Helen with her Helens face is very

swollen has not been to school for a week

With her middle son Oliver home from Brown, Evelina had a great deal of mending to tend to. She might have preferred to be in her flower garden, but she only had a short window in which to repair her son’s shirts, hose, and coats. Oliver, meanwhile, rode out with his college roommate, Mr. Brown. They roamed from Easton to Canton and Sharon and in the process picked up a polyanthus, or primrose, for Evelina. They got the latter from a Mr. Copeland, who was perhaps Josiah Copeland, an elderly resident of Easton who lived with his wife and unmarried daughter.

George Witherell continued to be ill in the other part of the house, but he wasn’t the only family member who was ailing. Helen Angier Ames had to come home from boarding school because of a swollen face. Perhaps she had an infection – an abcess of some sort – or perhaps she was having an allergic reaction to an insect bite or other allergen. Whatever was ailing her, she hadn’t attended class for a week, and her mother had to fetch her home.

May 1, 1852

1852

Sat May 1st The children were hoping to have a fine

time maying this morning had their wreaths

all made but it rained which prevented

their taking a walk but they had a nice time

in the old tool house. I dined in Edwins

John came there last night Lavinia & Helen

here. They were all here to tea to night

S E Williams called at Olivers I gave her some plants

Rain spoiled the annual outing that Susan, Emily and other children had planned for May Day. They had made special wreaths for the occasion, probably to deliver to the homes of friends. To get out of the weather and save the pleasure of the day, they gathered instead in the “old tool house,” which seemed to make for an agreeable substitute. Readers from the Easton area, does anyone know the probable whereabouts of this building?

Rain may have spoiled the children’s walk, but it helped soften the ground in the garden. Old Oliver reported that today the garden was “spaded up and manured.” He was most likely describing the family vegetable and herb garden, as opposed to Evelina’s flower beds, which were already under cultivation and probably out of Old Oliver’s immediate purview as well as beneath his notice.

Evelina, meanwhile, had her midday meal at Edwin’s and Augusta’s house, seemingly while the rest of the family ate at home. She went over to visit their mutual relative, her brother John Gilmore, who rarely came to town.

April 10, 1852

1852

April 10th Saturday Worked in the chambers all the forenoon

Mr Colwell came after Orinthia she will commence her school Monday.

Have been painting some spots in the dining room Made a call in

Olivers Julia is at work there for Helen. I have engaged her the

last of the week. Heard that Mrs Brett is dangerously sick

Eveline Brett, wife of George Brett, a bootmaker, was a twenty-year-old who had recently given birth. The baby had survived – at least so far – but she herself was “dangerously sick.” She likely had come down with childbed fever.

Childbed fever, known medically as puerperal fever, is a postpartum, streptococcal infection of the mother’s reproductive tract. The fever was often fatal. For much of the 19th century, it was usually, if inadvertently, caused by attending doctors. At the time, doctors had no knowledge of germs and didn’t believe in hand washing. The prevailing attitude, as expressed by one Philadelphia obstetrician, Dr. Charles Meigs, was “Doctors are gentlemen, and gentlemen’s hands are clean.”*

It took a Hungarian physician named Ignaz Semmelweis to realize that women with home births had fewer cases of the fever than those women who gave birth in maternity wards. He determined “that washing hands with an antiseptic solution before a delivery reduced childbed fever fatalities by 90%.“* Publication of his findings was not well received by the medical community, but he was right.

* Puerperal infections Wikipedia, accessed March 24, 2015

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