Sarah Bard accompanied her aunt Sarah DeNormandie Barton and her husband Reverend Thomas Barton to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, when he was given a pulpit there. Paying visits was part of the ritual of welcome.

Lancaster 17th January 1776[After a difficult journey] Wednesday which was the day we were expected many of the Gentlemen came out to meet us, but it was Thursday evening before we got there . . . In the night we were waked with a most delightful Serenade under the window consisting of two Violins, one flute, and a hautboy played extreamly well, a Compliment to Mr. and Mrs. Barton. Saturday Mr. Barton was visited by all the Gentlemen of the place; its Customary here to send cards to all those you would wish to come and have an elegant Collation served up at twelve Clock with wine punch, &c—Yesterday Aunt made her appearance and today she receives company.

Would you believe that our Church music at Lancaster exceeds any thing you ever heard, It is entirely Vocal and performed by Soldiers [British] who have been used to sing in Cathedrals. Their voices are really heavenly, so much melody I never heard before; when they begin to sing the whole congregation rise. Uncle Barton has raised a subscription for them and they are to sing every Sunday.

The excerpt can be found on page 212 of In the Words of Women.

How could I not post this Journal entry by Quaker Elizabeth Sandwith Drinker on a cold day in January! (See other posts by her here, here, here, and here.)

Jan. 13 [1799]. Putting on a pair of warm worsted stockings this morning—having worn cotton hitherto this winter, it led me to think of the poor sheep who are dismantled to make us comfortable; not that ye sheep suffer much while shearing, and it is a convenience to them if they fall into feeling and tender hands: but sometimes a rough clown, who has a poor sheep tied down on his knees, if it stirs, gives it a hard blow, and very frequently cuts out a piece of flesh with his shears. Then if he condescends to apply a bit of tar and grease to the wound, the matter is settled. One thought brings on another; a fine quarter of mutton hangs now in our washhouse, with Turkey, Geese, Ducks, Fowls, &c. An idea struck me, which has frequently occurred to me from my youth to this day—that there are very few things which daily happen, so humbling as the death of so many of the animal creation for our support OR/OF satisfaction. A query has arisen; why do they suffer pain in death? The Almighty hand which created them, could if it was His will, so order it, that they should die without suffering. That it is otherwise, is apparent; tho’ perhaps they do not feel so much as we think they do. Be that as it may, why do they suffer at all? if it is not to humble mankind, “and shall they suffer, shall they die in vain?”

Source: pages 338-39 in the Journal of Elizabeth Sandwith Drinker which can be found online HERE.

Annis Boudinot Stockton lived with her husband Richard Stockton, a noted attorney and signer of the Declaration of Independence, in their home called Morven near Princeton, New Jersey. Born into a well-to-do Huguenot family, Annis was well educated and acquired a reputation as a poet—she had 21 poems published during her lifetime, including odes to George Washington, whom the Stocktons counted as a friend.

Since Princeton was in the path of invading and defending armies Annis and her family were forced to flee to a safer location in 1776. It was in Monmouth, New Jersey, that her husband was captured by Loyalists. He was held prisoner and, contingent upon his release, was compelled to take an oath to withdraw from politics, a commitment which he honored.

When the British occupied Princeton in 1777, General Cornwallis made Morven his headquarters; his troops ransacked the property and destroyed important papers as well as one of the most important libraries in the colonies. Annis survived her husband, who died of cancer in 1781, and remained active throughout her life. See other posts related to Stockton here, here, and here.

Morven, having been home to five generations of Stocktons and five New Jersey governors, is now a National Historic Landmark (2004). Currently on exhibit until March 29 is a collection of some 30 samplers by girls, generally between the ages of 8 and 16, entitled: “Hail Specimen of Female Art! New Jersey Schoolgirl Needlework, 1726-1860”. It was a mark of social status for girls during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries to become skilled at needlework. Pictured is the sampler created in 1798 by Anne Rickey, when she would have been about 15 years old. The first line of the poem provides the title for the exhibit.

Read a New York Times review of the exhibition HERE.

Mary Stead Pinckney was in Paris in January of 1798. (See another post about her here.) Her husband, Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, had been sent there in 1796 to replace James Monroe as United States minister to France. Relations between France and the United States had worsened given the decision of the United States to remain neutral during the war then being waged between the French and British; France believed it was entitled to American support based on the treaty of 1778. The Jay Treaty of 1794, perceived as unduly advantageous to the British, caused relations to deteriorate further. Pinckney was denied accreditation and, indeed, was ordered to leave the country. Charles and Mary went to Holland where they remained for some months, returning to Paris in September of 1797. There Pinckney became part of a three-man commission designated by the United States to sort out relations between the two countries. Negotiations—known as the XYZ Affair—failed in the face of attempts by France to extort money from the United States. The Pinckneys returned to the United Sates in 1798. Following is the letter Mary Stead Pinckney wrote to her sister Elizabeth Stead Izard on January 6, 1798.

We have begun our new year in this city, my dear sister, but I am sure I shall not pretend to the spirit of prophecy and venture to foretell where we shall finish it. I hope I may be allowed to wish ourselves, as also you & yours, as happy a year as is consistent with our imperfect nature. After taking such a voyage I should like to see a little more of Europe merely to gratify curiosity, but, believe me, our country is capable of bestowing more real happiness than is to be found out of it. I mean for those who have the wherewith to live comfortable. As to the society of Paris, I know no more of it except by hearsay than you do; & with regard to public amusements they soon tire. My morning excursions procure me the most pleasure, and yet it is too cold and damp not to suffer from visiting churches & museums, and I dare not put them off to a milder season lest I should not then be here. . . . but I am wishing it was spring that I might make excursions round the beautiful environs of Paris. Yet we have no cards of hospitality, and if they are determined to consider us as private americans only are liable to be stopped every time we go out. . . .

I will not risk the safety of my letters by meddling with politicks, and tho’ the citizens allow themselves greater latitude on this subject than I expected, it is still a dangerous subject; and with regard to letters, I am told the owners of vessels both coming from & going to A. are so apprehensive for their cargoes that they generally throw them all into the sea. I hope therefore you will either send copies or write very often.

I wish particularly to know whether in case we are recalled you will venture to let us leave Ralph [Elizabeth Izard’s son] at school in St. Germains, or what you would wish to have done with him. He is losing all his time, & at present has no opportunity of learning even french. We should not hesitate, but send him immediately to St. Germains, tho’ but for a week, were it not for the expence of the outfit—for each student must have a bedstead, 4 mattresses, a pr of sheets, 3 doz. napkins, a silver cup, fork and spoon, and our stay is so uncertain. Sometimes we think of leaving him there if we go to Amsterdam; & then again I am fearful lest he should get sick &c: in a country where he will have no friends. . . . We are indeed quite puzzled what to do with him. Eliza [Ralph’s sister] too is losing all she has learnt—no instrument—no masters.

We changed our lodgings yesterday—these are rather more comfortable & quiet, but they are dark, and the situation much less agreeable; but we were in the Road to Ruin where we were, and lived in the most disagreeable manner. We paid 67 louis d’ors for 21 dinners, without the satisfaction of seeing one friend, except on New Year’s day, when Mr. & Mrs. Middleton [relatives of Charles Pinckney’s first wife] . . . dined with us. . . .

Friday evening—I have been running about Paris all this morning instead of writing. . . . I see very little jewellry or gold trinkets in the shops; and you will be surprised to hear I have not yet been able to meet with a pair of sleeve buttons for Ralph. I am persuaded there is greater choice, and neater work in London. I have not seen one pretty watch. Yet there appears to be a great abundance of all the necessaries of life. I suppose I have been a dozen times at least to the Palais Égalité, and I am as much amused with the shops as any child can be. Pray remember me affect. to &c: &c: and tell us all about Xmas. 4 months and not a line from any of you. Deplorable. . . .
Adieu MP.—

As always, it seems, visitors to Paris see the sights, visit museums and go shopping.

The letter has been arranged in paragraphs to make for easier reading. The Letter-book of Mary Stead Pinckney can be found online HERE pages 42-45.

Elizabeth Sandwith Drinker continued to record her experiences during the British occupation of Philadelphia during the winter of 1777-78. British officer J. C. Crammond was quartered in her home. (See previous posts here, here, and here.)

1778. January 1. Joshua Howell called this morning. He has brought a Firkin of Irish butter for me. Richd Adams called, of whom I have engaged a quantity of Pork. Betsy Drinker, Hannah Drinker, and J. C. [Crammond] drank tea with us. . . . J. C. supped with us.

The soldiers were called out in order to day, which looked alarming. Many are fearful of an attack from ye other side of ye water,

Crammond has 3 Horses, 3 Cows, 2 Sheep and 2 Turkeys—with several Fowls in our stable. He has also 3 Servants—2 white Men and one negro Boy called Damon. Ye servants are here all day, but away at night. He has 3 Hessians, who take their turns to wait upon him as messengers, or orderly men, as they call them—so that we have enough of such sort of company.

Jan. 2. . . . J. C. has had five Anspachers to dine with him. He spent ye evening out—came home before 10.

Jan. 13. It is 17 years this day, and ye same day of ye week since my marriage with my dear Henry.

Jan. 16. J. C. stayed out last night till after 12 or nearer one.

Jan. 18. This being the Queen’s birthday, there has been firing of Guns from ye shipping, and the colors flying.

By mid January Major Crammond had taken over more of the house.

Jan. 19 This Morning our officer mov’d his belongings from the blue Chamber to the little front Parlor, so that he has the two front Parlors, a Chamber up two pair of stairs for his bagage, and the Stable wholly to himself, besides the use of the Kitchen, his Camp Bed is put up.

Major Crammond began to entertain at the Drinker home. He also went out in the evening a good deal. When the playhouse in Philadelphia re-opened he went to the theater, and Mrs. Drinker notes that he attended assemblies and concerts at headquarters.

Meanwhile, though Mrs. Drinker’s was able to correspond with her husband, efforts to secure his release came to naught. He and the other dissenting Quaker men were periodically requested to sign an oath of allegiance to the state of Pennsylvania which they declined, as expected. Mrs. Drinker and three companions even journeyed to Valley Forge to beg the assistance of General George Washington in this matter, but though Washington received them cordially, he declined. Eventually the Pennsylvania Council, realizing that the charges against the Quakers were unfounded, released them at the end of April 1778.

The entries are from Extracts from the Journal of Elizabeth Drinker, from 1759 to 1807, A.D. edited by Henry Biddle (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott Company, 1889), pages 79-82. They can be found online HERE.