The Diary of Rebecca White Cobham, 1746 to 1759
November 1746
Samuel and I have caused a fine stir. My brother, John, was very unhappy about my change of mind (not heart, for Samuel has always had my heart). John shouted at me, cussed a bit, and threatened to strike me. I would not budge from my resolution to wed Samuel Cobham. Since he controlled neither money nor property for me, and I was of an age, there was little he could do but berate me and complain of me to our family. Sarah is sure that I am daft, and my sisters think it very curious that I should prefer Samuel to the rich Peter Dent.
Samuel told his parents of his wish to marry me, and both he and his father came to speak with my brother, John. It was a raw day, with rain turning to snow, and I served them hot rum and dried peach cobbler. My younger brothers had gone off somewhere, and I knew that my sisters were above stairs, listening to every word.
“Master White,” began Samuel, “your sister and I are of a mind in this. We wish to marry as soon as banns may be read.”
“Young Master Cobham,” snapped John, “the banns were already read for my sister and Peter Dent at Queen Anne’s Parish Chapel. This is most improper.”
“The reading of banns is not a marriage,” said Samuel. “You should be glad that your sister was wise enough to recognize that her marriage to Dent would be wrong given that we have such feelings for each other.”
“And how will my sister feel when she has no food and no apparel and no land?” cried John. “Master Cobham, your son has no means to care for my sister. Surely you cannot countenance this idea.”
John Cobham smiled. “I have told Samuel that they may reside with us until he is established. We shall see that they are well maintained. Remember that Samuel is a trained surveyor, and may look to work in that direction.”
“I hope to accumulate money for my own properties very soon,” explained Samuel. “I have work forthcoming from Matthias Bordley up in Cecil County to survey lands for him to the north. He will lease me lands here at a very reasonable yearly sum.”
I said nothing when Samuel revealed this. Suddenly it occurred to me that he might leave me alone for long periods after our marriage. I did not, however, wish to interrupt the men at this point. I could see that my brother was very unhappy, but mainly because we were losing an excellent connection in our community. The men argued back and forth for a time, and eventually my brother looked at me with sad and angry eyes.
“Rebecca, do you really chose to leave poor Dent like this and cast in your lot with Samuel?” he asked.
I nodded. “Brother, forgive me, but I cannot see marriage with anyone but Samuel. We care for each other and shall do well together.”
My brother sighed. “I have many responsibilities now, sister, and will not be there to help you. You have only a few items of household things for a dowry. But do as you will—Sarah may have a child of our own, and the other girls may take over your duties.”
“I, too, was very poor and humble when I wed with Mistress Sollers, Master White. It may come to good,” said John Cobham as they rose to depart. The Cobhams began putting on their cloaks in preparation for return to their own plantation. My brother half-heartedly invited them to remain the night with us, but they politely refused.
I handed Samuel his hat. He bent to kiss me, as would now be allowed, and I hissed at him. “So you think to wed me and then plant me with your parents while you are off again?”
“Hush. I had to tell your brother something to soothe his pride and disappointment. We’ll speak of this later,” he whispered. “I have brought you a present in honor of our betrothal.” He gave me a rather lovely little bound volume of clean paper, covered in yellow silk with a rose pattern. “Write the story of our wonderful lives in this!” I could not help but smile—he gives me such a special feeling inside. . .
They rode off into the very stormy afternoon. “Maybe his horse will slip in the mud and he’ll break his neck,” mumbled my brother, returning to sit by the fire. “Rebecca—you will cause a scandal!”
“I have done nothing improper, brother. Mr. Dent will understand that I feel myself unsuitable for him.”
“And his home, and his lands … and his fortune!” snapped my brother. “You are taking a man with no future here, Rebecca. I fear that you will suffer greatly for it! When your children cry with hunger, you will regret this!”
“Dear brother, my thanks for your tender concern. All right, girls, you may come down from the loft now and giggle to your hearts’ content!”
Peter Dent was not entirely amiable when I told him of my decision to end our betrothal. I do believe that he was greatly astonished at my refusal to wed, since he offered many advantages. He agreed that his affection for me was such that he would not hold me to a promise made months before. I also suspect that he has developed an eye for one of the Gerard widows, who possesses some fine creek side property near to one of his plantations.
Reverend Atkins was not so kind about the situation, and preached for two Sundays running about unwise virgins and marriage arrangements gone wrong. Samuel and his brother Sabrett were in some tavern fight with the Dent cousinry, of which not one soul would give me the details.
I stayed close to home for the next few weeks, but made a point of going to church and the latest musters to show my fine thin waist. My sisters are anxious to move on with their own lives, and my marriage has been arranged for the March Court Session, when many will be in Upper Marlboro town.
May, 1747, in Cabbin Branch
I had been a bride but a month when Samuel left me and went north. We began our marriage happily enough, exchanging vows at the church where we both were christened, and celebrating our union with a small dinner for family and friends. A whole side of beef, three kegs of ale, and many gallons of rum were consumed. I am told that most of our women guests retired to sleep in the church, and the men wherever they might, as few were able to make the journey home due to their inebriation.
We retired to a small cottage on the Cobham Property at Cabbin Branch. John’s parents had seen to fresh whitewash in what was formerly the home of indentured servants, and I had scrubbed the floors and sewed curtains for the small windows. From the estate of my parents, I had some beds, bedding, and other household goods, and our relatives were kind with their gifts of crockery, pewter, and cooking utensils.
His brothers and their friends made loud noises outside our cabin on that night before succumbing to their own drunkenness, but John and I did not heed them. The feel of him, the taste of his skin, and the bristly texture of his body hair on the softer skin beneath! I was glad to be the instrument of so much joy and madness for my love. The mysteries of marriage were a great pleasure.
Summer, 1747, Cabbin Branch
I am terribly out of sorts today. This morning I assisted Mother Cobham with the churning of butter, and she told me that Samuel’s grandfather, Old William, is to move to our plantation this winter. He is feeble now, and very dim-sighted, so much so that he has been made levy-free for many years now. He and his two slaves have been living in a leased home in Upper Marlboro town, but due to his age and infirmity, Father Cobham wishes to move him closer to the family for his final days. Unfortunately, he and his servants will be living in our little cottage, and Sam and I must move into the big house. It seems that Old William has his own household stuff to take our space, and more horses to be stabled. Even though it is promised that we will have our own bedroom, it will be terribly crowded. There will be three more people on the plantation to feed and tend. Mother Cobham is getting old, and Bess Witten has moved with Tom to assist in tending some uncle’s tavern in St. Mary’s Town. It will fall to me to see that all is done in the household. It also may be that I am with child, as I have missed my course this month and have been ill the last few mornings. I am afraid.
Sam writes that he will be home next month, and has sent me a fine pair of leather gloves from Pennsylvania