57 pages 1-hour read

A Midwife's Tale: The Life of Martha Ballard, Based on Her Diary, 1785-1812

Nonfiction | Biography | Adult | Published in 1990

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Introduction-Chapter 1Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Introduction Summary

The Introduction begins with a description of Hallowell, Maine, and its position as a port city on the Kennebec River. In the winter, the river “closes,” leaving the town cut off from the sea for months at a time, sometimes closing as early as November and opening as late as May in especially cold years. The townsfolk of Hallowell in the late 18th century were hardy and accustomed to the difficulty and hardship brought on by the icy conditions and uncertainty of the river’s freezing and melting. Martha Ballard herself rowed across the river in icy conditions one winter to assist Old Lady Cony after she had a stroke.


The Introduction transitions to Martha’s background, the titular midwife who was also quoted as saying, after the river swept away part of the north side of their house, “But we are yet alive & well for which we ought to be thankful” (12). Martha’s diary is the primary source for Ulrich’s historical analysis throughout the text, but the details of her early life come from other pieces of archival evidence. Martha was born Martha Moore in Oxford, Massachusetts, in 1735, married her husband Ephraim Ballard in 1754, and gave birth to nine children between 1756 and 1779. She lost three of her children—daughters Triphene, Dorothy, and Martha—to diphtheria in 1769, an outbreak that killed 12% of the population of Oxford at the time. Martha’s aunt and uncle lost eight of their 11 children. The outbreak was devastating, and though Martha marked the anniversaries of her daughters’ deaths in her diary, she did so without heavy emotion, for example: “June 17, 1786: ‘this is 17 years since the Death of my Daughter Triphene who Deceast AE 4 years & 3 months’” (21). Though emotion does not play a large role in her diary, Martha’s religion—she was a devout Christian—appears consistently throughout her writing.


Ulrich notes that Martha’s diary is neatly organized. It may have started as an almanac, but gradually it became a diary in earnest. The day of the week and month of each entry are included in the margin. Martha recorded any debts and earnings and any cloth she spun or beans she planted. She kept “methodical” records of the births she attended, along with an “XX” for the deliveries for which she received her fee. She wrote an entry every day for over 27 consecutive years. The entries become longer and deeper as time goes on, containing plots of her travel and medical work and subplots of the inner workings and interpersonal relationships of people in the town. Each of the subplots, as Ulrich explains, “relates to a larger question in social history” (36), including questions of modern childbirth practices, the ethics of debtor’s prisons, and the morality of premarital sex. 


Martha’s diary is notable, as few women in New England were educated enough to be accomplished writers. Martha’s uncle Abijah graduated from Yale, and her brother Jonathan attended Harvard, but someone in Oxford was willing to educate women, as Martha could write well in her diary while her mother could only sign her name with a mark. Though Martha could read, the only texts she read, according to her diary, were newspapers and religious books. Medicine also ran in Martha’s family, as her uncle Abijah was a physician, as was her brother-in-law Stephen Barton, who married Martha’s sister Dorothy, whose granddaughter was Clara Barton, founder of the Red Cross.


Martha was educated in the ways of practical medicine, as her diary mentions her knowledge of the following: “salves, syrups, pills, teas, and ointments” (20); treating wounds, burns, injuries, toothaches, and common illnesses; as well as lancing abscesses, administering enemas, and delivering babies. Martha delivered her first baby in 1778 after arriving in Hallowell, as there were more older women in Oxford who knew how to assist women in labor. In Hallowell, she was among the older crowd of women, making her a natural choice for a midwife. 


The Ballards moved to Hallowell in 1777, after Ephraim moved north in 1775 to work as a land surveyor. They lived with their five unmarried children in a house owned by John Jones, a relative who fought for the British in the Revolutionary War. Ephraim and their sons operated the mill, while the women worked on the domestic tasks within the home. 


The history of the Revolution and American politics informs the culture around Martha, but not her diary or the intricacies of her life. Ulrich writes, “Her life had been altered by the Revolution, but her identity was unrelated to the rituals of republicanism” (43). Her existence became different due to the ever-changing political landscape of early America, but Martha remained the same: a steady, faithful, midwife dedicated to both her family and her community. However, Ulrich concludes that her diary plays an important role in demonstrating how the work of midwifery intersects with the roles of women in society and the economy in colonial and postcolonial America.

Chapter 1 Summary

Like each of Ulrich’s chapters, Chapter 1 begins with a collection of Martha’s diary entries, this time from August 1787. These entries outline Martha’s various deliveries, visits to households ailing from scarlet fever, and her household activities, which included picking saffron, pulling flax, and knitting. 


Ulrich explains the difference in Martha’s medical accounts compared to those of male doctors, like Daniel Cony (which Martha sometimes spells “Coney”): “The most obvious difference […] is that it is a woman’s record. Equally important is the way it connects birth and death with ordinary life. Few medical histories, even today, do that” (52). Cony recorded the births and deaths from Martha’s minutes/records, not from his own, demonstrating the importance of her work and also the connection between her knowledge of birth and life. She attended the births of Hallowell, but oftentimes, also the deaths. In August 1787, Hallowell endured an outbreak of scarlet fever. The first to die was Henry and Tabitha Sewall’s son, six-month-old Billy. During the outbreak, Martha tended to dozens of sick people in her own family and the broader community. One mother, Mrs. McMaster, lost her son William while heavily pregnant. Ulrich notes, “‘Poor mother.’ That entry contains the one burst of emotion to appear in the diary all summer” (55). This burst of emotion is rare from Martha, and Ulrich postulates that Martha felt an empathetic connection to the mother due to the fact she lost three of her children while heavily pregnant during the Oxford diphtheria outbreak. The scarlet fever outbreak was difficult to contain, and it was difficult to understand why a young mother, Susanna Clayton, died after childbirth despite displaying no symptoms of scarlet fever, as no one yet understood that puerperal fever (fever that takes place 24 hours or less after childbirth) and scarlet fever were both caused by Group A hemolytic streptococci.


Ulrich transitions from her exploration of Martha’s diary entries to a broader interrogation of the daily work of a midwife in early America. Some thought of midwives with “reverence,” and some with “disdain.” They were polarizing figures; many women sought them for comfort and advice, and some men regarded them as gossipy and impious. Martha’s diary both challenges these stereotypes and elucidates the reality that they were based on. Ulrich writes, “Midwives and nurses mediated the mysteries of birth, procreation, illness, and death. They touched the untouchable […] swaddled the dead as well as the newborn […] and presided over neighborhood gatherings of women” (60). There was a mystery to Martha’s work that men struggled to understand, even the male doctors that Martha worked alongside and was “deferential” to. Women practitioners were also the ones who tended to women and children and also minor illnesses, which made up much of the necessary medical care in Hallowell. Martha also had a clear understanding of natural healing tools, such as herbs. She adhered to the concept of purging, which dates back to the ancient ideas of humors, which required “proper balance of the four bodily fluids—blood, phlegm, choler (or yellow bile), and melancholy (or black bile)” (68). Both doctors and midwives like Martha would encourage purging, lancing abscesses, or applying drawing salve to blisters. Bloodletting was occasionally used by doctors, but never Martha. Male physicians tended to use more “dramatic” remedies. They also attempted a solidistic approach, using “Newtonian physics in attempting to regulate the mechanical properties of ‘solids,’ usually defined as blood vessels and nerves” (70). Martha may have been aware of solidistic medicine, but she did not use many remedies that aligned with it. She rejected some of the methods of physicians, not out of distrust, but instead a more conservative approach to medicine.


Physicians and midwives often achieved the same results, and both worked part-time. Doctor Cony, for example, was a doctor but also a local politician and land proprietor. Many of the other doctors, like Dr. Samuel Colman and Dr. Benjamin Page, were also part-time doctors and part-time traders/merchants. They were respected, though, due to their social status as men and due to the deference shown to them by the female healers and midwives. Martha always referred to these men as “Doctor.” Physicians viewed themselves as separate from their communities by title, while “social” or female healers were integral pieces of the communities they served. In the August 1787 diary entries, Martha names five other people involved in healing, demonstrating that she was not an anomaly in the Kennebec Valley. Hannah Cool was a servant who assisted with caretaking, Sally Patten was a “watcher” who sat with the ill, Merriam Pollard was a nurse like Martha, and Captain and Mrs. Sewall also provided comfort to the ill at the Howards’. 


Ulrich ends the chapter with an explanation of the complicated nature of the Howard family, as the widowed James Howard remarried a young woman at the age of 79 and had another child with her that he named James, despite his son Colonel William Howard already having a son named James. The three Jameses lived at the old Western Fort in 1785, but by 1787, only the youngest James was still alive, and extremely ill. Between 1785 and 1787, dysentery or bilious fever struck the old fort, killing eight people. A canker rash also struck the fort, killing the Colonel’s wife, three of his children, and his father, the elderly James, before moving on to infect the young James, who survived. The Colonel paid Martha for her services in white rum and sugar, amounts of both worth the price of six visits from a doctor. During this period in the summer of 1787, Ephraim Ballard and their son Jonathan began work to rebuild the mills that had burned down early in August.

Introduction-Chapter 1 Analysis

The Introduction and first chapter work in tandem to recreate the world and society in which Martha lived and worked. Ulrich constructs the geography of the Kennebec River Valley in the opening section of the Introduction, explaining the intricacies of the opening and closing of the river in the winter, before placing Martha herself in a canoe on the river “pushing through ice” to assist an elderly neighbor who suffered a stroke (12). Martha often endured the river’s wild, unpredictable nature when crossing it to visit her neighbors and patients. In many of her entries describing such journeys, she employs religious language, which Ulrich argues “strengthens the affinity with her Puritan progenitors. Dramatizing the dangers of her journey, she both glorified God and gave meaning and dimension to her own life” (15). Of one entry describing her crossing the Kennebec River, Ulrich writes, “‘A great sea A going’—Martha knew how to suggest an entire landscape, or in this case a riverscape, in a phrase. Her description of the river crossing is part psalm, part tale” (15). The comparison Ulrich draws from Martha’s entry to the Psalms of the Bible demonstrates Religion’s Role in Everyday Life in Late 18th-Century New England. In something as personal as a diary—as it is not clear at any point in the narrative if Martha ever expected her diary to be published or become the source of historical and academic study—Martha illustrates how important her faith was to her, while also demonstrating how that faith informed how she looked at the world. Everything was the will of God, from the river’s rising tides to a spooked horse, dangers she faced in an April entry. Her safety was in the hands of her God, and in times of danger and in times of relief, she looked to her God for meaning. A horse scared by a falling tree by itself is simply an unfortunate event; in the context of God’s will, Martha makes her survival into a small miracle, a gift to be cherished. 


Martha’s diary contains material beyond her miraculous survival during her arduous journeys. For 27 years, she wrote entries nearly daily, recording the various details of her life that she found relevant, including the visitations of neighbors, her own comings and goings, the activities of her family, and of course, the details of her medical visits to her patients. At times, some of the entries appear relatively unimportant or superfluous, dwelling on tasks like Martha pulling flax or detailing which neighbor ate breakfast where. However, for Ulrich’s microhistorical approach, every entry is important, each detail meaningful, because together, they weave a complete tapestry of both Martha’s life and the world in which she lived. Ulrich states, “The problem is not that the diary is trivial but that it introduces more stories than can easily be recovered and absorbed” (35). For example, Ulrich traces various storylines in an entry in the Introduction from the same April entry in which Martha described crossing the river and dealing with her spooked horse. Without the small details that Martha preserves in her diary, historians would not know that Obed Hussey was in debtor’s jail or that the Hewins couple had premarital sex, as their child was born two months after their wedding. If Martha had recorded only the details of her midwifery practice—the times of birth and sexes of the babies—this historical richness would have been lost.


Ulrich’s evaluation of the diary’s structure also elucidates the wide-ranging role of the midwife in the community. Martha delivered babies and helped laboring women, but that is only one aspect of her medical activities. Ulrich writes:


The structure of the diary forces us to consider midwifery […] the most visible feature of a comprehensive and little-known system of early health care, as a mechanism of social control, a strategy for family support, and a deeply personal calling (45).


Though some historians may wish Martha had been more specific in her medical detailing, in sharing her opinions, and in recording the details of notable historical events, the daily structure of the diary and the “trivial” details contained paint a portrait of a midwife in the context in which she lived, demonstrating the scope of her vocation. Martha delivered babies, but she also nursed the ill, offered emotional support to struggling mothers, and at times, functioned as a witness to women’s testimonies before the courts. The Daily Life and Work of a Midwife in Early America was not simply obstetrical: Martha played a part in the functioning of the community, especially for women. In a time when the public sphere was closed to women, Martha was the marrow of the private sphere, slipping in and out of living rooms and kitchens and bedrooms, offering medical care, but above all, offering compassion and support for those who needed it most.

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