Conference turris::womannotes-v3

I'm something of a fan of Irish folk music. On a tape given to me by a 
friend is a ballad sung by Micheal O'Domhnaill. I think my friend taped it 
from the radio so I don't know if it's been recorded. The ballad concerns a 
British queen who is undergoing a long drawn-out labor. She keeps asking 
people to open her up and take out the baby, but they all refuse; evidently
the song reflects a time when Caesarians were too risky. From reading an
article in my encyclopedia, I think the subject, Queen Jane, is probably
Jane Seymour, third wife of Henry VIII. 

Anyway, here it is (except for a couple of words I can't make out).
O'Domhnaill has a wonderful tenor voice and the melody is tender and
melancholy. The song seems to me full of compassion for this woman and her
misfortune:



	Queen Jane lay in labor
	Full nine days or more
	Till her women grew so tired
	They could no longer there,
	They could no longer there.

	'Good women, good women,
	As good women ye be,
	Will ye open my right side
	And find my baby,
	And find my baby.'

	'Oh no,' cried the women,
	'That's a thing that never can be;
	We will send for King Henry
	And hear what he may say,
	And hear what he may say.'

	King Henry was sent for,
	King Henry did come
	Saying 'What ails <mumble>
	Your eyes they look so doun,
	Your eyes they look so doun.'

	'King Henry, King Henry,
	Will ye do one thing for me --
	That's to open my right side
	And find my baby,
	And find my baby.'

	'Oh no,' cried King Henry,
	'That's a thing that I'll never do;
	If I lose the flower of England
	I shall lose the branch too,
	I shall lose the branch too.'

	[instrumental interlude, mostly bagpipes]

	There was fiddlin' aye and dancin'	
	On the day the babe was born,
	But Good Queen Jane <mumble>
	Lay as cold as a stone,
	Lay as cold as a stone.

    Hi Dorian,
    
    No I have never seen a memorial to birth; only those granite 'tombs'
    on every corner in Worcester, endorned with flags on Memorial Day
    and plastic flowers the rest of the year...
    
    But, there is a wonderful poem in Adrienne Rich's book...you know the
    one, sorry, can't remember off hand the name of the book , "of common
    ground?"; anyway, in it, there is a poem to a women who didn't live
    to see her child born, and in it as she is dying she says, 'such a
    waste, such a waste...' 
    
    It's very touching; if you know it, I hope you enter it here.
    
    Love,
    Maia
    

    Ah yes, billions *of women* have babies, who cares?  Nothing special
    about giving birth, it's a natural daily occurrence, which by the
    way, becomes extremely unnatural once you're actually in labor and
    heading for the labor room....I remember thinking, 'hey get me outta
    here!'
    
    At any rate, could it be that Mozart's mother's house is marked because
    Mozart was born there, not because his mother gave birth there?
    
    OK, so it's a technicality.
    
    Maia
    

    re .1 - that's Child 170 (appropriate that it be a Child Ballad,
    no?), and you're right, the subject is Jane Seymour giving birth
    to Prince Edward (October 12, 1537; she died 12 days later).

    My edition of Child doesn't have the exact version you cite (folk
    process), but the line you're missing is probably something like
	Saying 'What ails you my Jeanie' or Saying 'What ails you my
	bride'

    (both exist in different variants)

    
    .4 - Mozart had a mother?!  ;-)
    
    .5 - thanks very much! Child ballad indeed, how appropriate! The music
    in the version I mentioned is really haunting, I wish I could reproduce
    it in here. If I can find a recording I'll enter the info.
    
    D.
    

    We're not only talking about women who had children, we're talking
    about the women who suffered and died in childbirth.  Looking through
    my family records, I can see several generations in the 1700's and
    1800's where the first wife had 4 children, and died in childbirth, and
    the second wife had 3 children, and died in childbirth, and the third
    wife.....you get the picture.
    
    Their names are strange to me - Hepsibah, Isabel, Sarah Jane, Edith
    Rebecca.....but their plight calls to me across the years.  Calls to me
    because they did their duty, and brought forth numerous children to
    work the fields and die in the revolutionary and civil wars, to go on
    to write great books and become lawyers and teachers.....and in doing
    their duty they perished.  Perhaps glad that they had served their
    purpose, and sure they were going to heaven's sweet reward - but they
    went all too early in most cases, and all too often from complications
    resulting from childbirth.
    
    If I get the chance I'll track down their full names and enter them
    here, a late and minor memorial to strong women who served their
    country well.....may they rest in peace.....
    
    -Jody
    

    
    	Building Birth Memorials is a good idea -
    
    	Of course, it isn't possible to have one for everyone who gives
    	birth (just as there aren't separate memorials for the millions
    	of people who have gone to war) - but there ought to be *some*
    	memorials for birth.
    

    I once went to the effort of looking up the rate of death in
    childbirth.  In the early days of the U.S., it was one woman
    for every three hundred births.  (This is part of the census data.)
    
    This implies that, in all but the smallest villages, you knew
    someone who had died in childbirth by the time you were old enough
    to get married.
    
    						Ann B.

    This is from a song which I think was written by Pete Seeger (not sure)
    I especially like the use of the word "bravery".
    
    Oh, had I a golden thread
    and a needle so fine.
    I would weave a magic strand
    of rainbow design.
    In it I would weave the bravery
    of women giving birth,
    In it I would weave the innocence
    of children of all the earth.
    
    
    re: .1
    >  the song reflects a time when Caesarians were too risky.
    
    If I'm not mistaken, until fairly recent times, Caesarians meant certain
    death for the mother.  The idea being to sacrifice the mother for the
    baby.  Anyone know more about this?
    
    Mary
    

    when in virginia two years ago, i toured a restored colonial household. 
    the guide mentioned that the two largest causes of death at the time in
    women were childbirth and fire (skirts catching on fire while cooking
    over an open fire).

Re .11

I think that's backwards.  I think that Caesarean sections were started to save
both the mother and the baby in instances where natural childbirth would
endanger the mother's life.  I know that my grandfather's first wife died at
childbirth, probably because she was one of those cases where a Caesarean 
section was required.  And my mother says that when she had my brother 47 years
ago and told her mother that the doctor was going to take the baby by a 
Caesarean section, no one had even heard of such a procedure back then, and
my grandmother thought it was quite unnatural to have a baby like that.

It's interesting to note that in my mother's case, she needed Caesareans for
both me and my brother because natural childbirth in her case would have most
likely resulted in delivering dead babies, but fortunately the technology had
progressed over the years, and her doctor was able to see the problem and 
recognize the need for the Caesarean section.

    No, women didn't survive Caesarian births until the 1800's.  It
    was a last resort, done only to perhaps save a child whose mother
    had already died.  If the mother lived and the child died, that
    wasn't such a big deal because the mother could have more
    children. 
    
    It's worth noting that much of modern surgical technique was done
    to find a way to allow women to survive the surgery.  
    
    Also, though we don't celebrate the women who have died in
    childbirth, we do celebrate those who have lived as mothers --
    Mary the mother of Jesus, for instance, and all the rest of the
    motherhood cult in US culture.  I think this is consistent. If war
    memorializes death, it seems appropriate that the honoring of
    giving birth, giving life, would be in the living mothers rather
    than the dead ones. 
    
    --bonnie

          
    .14 - what motherhood cult in US culture?
    
    Also, I don't follow your logic in saying that if war memorializes
    death (but don't you mean war *memorials* memorialize those who have
    died in war?), memorials for giving life should be for living rather than 
    dead mothers...isn't a memorial, by definition, something that commemorates
    someone who has died? Or suffered? In any case, that was the parallel I
    was trying to draw. That we commemorate war heroes aplenty, but we
    hardly ever commemorate childbirth heroines.
    
    D.

    re: .15
    
    No, a memorial commemorates something you want to remember. 
    There's a rather nice memorial way the heck out in the middle of
    nowhere in Utah that commemorates the driving of the last spike to
    complete the transcontinental railroad, for instance.  And
    memorials aren't necessarily physical monuments.  Living memorials
    such as eternal candles, planted trees and trust funds are not
    uncommon.  
    
    I was trying to make the point that the part of giving birth that
    you want to commemorate might not be the exact parallel of
    commemorating death on the battlefield.  War is about death,
    glorifies death (you're probably right that I didn't mean war
    itself memorializes death), remembers death.  Giving birth is
    about living, about God's opinion that life should go on, to
    borrow a cliche, and memorials 
    
    Re: the motherhood cult.  There's a book by that title, written in
    the 70's.  I don't remember who wrote it; does anybody else?  It
    describes the way we worship idealized Mothers. And one of its
    points was that memorializing Mothers in the abstract was a way of
    abstracting the women who were real mothers, trying to hold them
    to an unrealistic, impossible, and perhaps undesirable ideal in
    which real women are supposed to sacrifice themselves for the good
    of their children. 
    
    I think this is quite parallel to the way war memorials that
    glorify those who died in battle set up an unrealistic and
    undesirable ideal that real young men are to sacrifice themselves
    for the good of the motherland in order to be glorified as heroes.
    
    --bonnie

    re.16
    
    >>I think this is quite parallel to the way war memorials that
    >>glorify those who died in battle set up an unrealistic and
    >>undesirable ideal that real young men are to sacrifice themselves
    >>for the good of the motherland in order to be glorified as heroes.
      
    
    I agree that war memorials idealize unrealistic expectations, but
    many of the war memorials themselves are to *REAL Men, soldiers.*
    Or you see park benches --- "dedicated in loving memory of our son
    Lt. ___ who died in France, 1944.."  You don't see anything like
    that for daughters or mothers or sisters who died in childbirth.
    
    I think you can learn a lot about a society's values from who its
    heroes are.
    
    To all my sisters who have died at the hands of men who said they loved
    them
    
    To all my sisters who have died trying to give birth to more sons
    
    To all my sisters who have died from bloody, botched abortions 
    
    To all my sisters who have died a thousand deaths of shame and fear
    

    Justine
                              

    
    Last November at the "Mobilization for Women's Lives" event in DC,
    there was a big memorial (a huge headstone) put up for the day
    commemorating all the women who have died as a result of botched
    abortions.
    

I think that the idea having a memorial to birth is wonderful.  It
does seem undervalued and taken for granted in this culture.  So many
people give so much as care-givers and nurturers but receieve very
little recognition.  I think it's about time care-givers (who seem to
be predominatly women) get more recognition, respect, and
appreciation.

john

    re .16, Bonnie- the parallel you draw doesn't quite ring home for me.
    Both things exist, and it is important we understand them; but my
    take is a little different from yours.
    
    > And one of its
    > points was that memorializing Mothers in the abstract was a way of
    > abstracting the women who were real mothers, trying to hold them
    > to an unrealistic, impossible, and perhaps undesirable ideal in
    > which real women are supposed to sacrifice themselves for the good
    > of their children. 
    
    For me the idealization of motherhood and the abstraction of that role
    as an unrealistic sacrificial ideal has its counterpart in the everyday
    roles which are expected of men; the unemotional, strong, super-competent
    father-figure.  Its just as impossible and just as sacrificial an
    ideal, and causes life-long strivings which can be unhealthy.
    
    > I think this is quite parallel to the way war memorials that
    > glorify those who died in battle set up an unrealistic and
    > undesirable ideal that real young men are to sacrifice themselves
    > for the good of the motherland in order to be glorified as heroes.
    
    And for me, this has its counterpart in the real deaths and real
    violence women experience when attempting to meet the expectations of
    the virginal-innocent-Madonna role.
    
    The two sets of parallel experiences are intertwined, I recognize the
    limitations of this analysis which breaks them apart as if they weren't
    part and parcel of the whole societal-role-model trip.  But I do offer
    these parallels as a possible better way to view the situation.  Thanks
    for giving me the key.
    
    DougO

    
       I would like to see a monument for all those men who have lost
       their lives driving to and from work in auto accidents!!!
       How about another one for all those who lost there lives before
       government set up safty regulations in the factorys and coal
       mines. I think we should have another monument for all the fire
       fighters and policemen who lost their lives in the line of duty.
       I guess the list should go on and on, don't stop there!!!!!!!!
    
        Have a nice day
            :^)
                    Al:

    Go for it!  Perhaps you could start a topic on that matter in Mennotes,
    as well as discussing it here!
    
    Let us celebrate the struggle of humanity in ALL its spectral hues...
    
    -Jody
    

    re: .20
    
    That's a very good point, Doug.  
    
    I'm not trying to argue that women's birth efforts are
    memorialized on anything but sometimes their own headstones.  But
    being memorialized isn't necessarily a sign of honor and respect. 
    One of Jesus's reported speeches says that by erecting ornate
    tombs for the prophets who had been killed for their words, the
    people who erected the tombs were agreeing to the prophets' death,
    symbolically participating in the murder.  I've always thought
    this was a rather telling statement about the way human beings
    behave, since I'm sure if Jesus came back tomorrow we couldn't
    wait to put him to death again.
    
    Similarly, although the war memorial benches or whatever say
    things like "to the memory of this individual," they aren't really
    about the individual man who breathed and loved and feared and
    dreamed and finally went away to die.  They're about the abstract
    "young soldier who gave his life for his country."  
    
    They're all symbols of our imprisonment in sociocultural
    imperatives, because if we didn't dress it up in everything pretty
    and glorious, and basically promise immortality in exchange for
    giving up mortal life, no sane person would go to war.  
    
    --bonnie 

    I think if nothing else, the Viet Nam memorial brought home the fact
    that it was INDIVIDUALS - names and names and names and names - who
    died.  The AIDS quilt does the same - names and names and names of
    loved ones who died.
    
    Perhaps the bars on the cage are getting sparser as we can reach
    through them and beyond them, and see the tragedy our compliance with
    rigid lockstep mentality has caused - see how when a glorified mould is
    made for all of a certain sex or class or age it removes their
    humanity, erasing their individuality, and often erasing their lives...
    
    -Jody
    

    
    .23 -
    
    I guess I disagree; I think being memorialized *is* a sign of honor and
    respect. I see it as a measure of how much we value something. And I
    was arguing that from the prevalence of war memorials and the paucity
    of anything resembling childbirth memorials, we value defending
    ourselves from enemies far more highly than we value creating ourselves
    in the first place. We simply take the latter for granted.
    
    Of course, there are other ways in which we as a culture might express
    our feelings about the value of childbirth. We might do so in a more
    celebratory way, by for example incorporating the themes of pregnancy and
    childbirth in art, as in Judy Chicago's work. But to my knowledge, such
    themes are very rare in art, at least in the west.
    
    So I guess I'm basically asking, why do we attach so little value to
    this thing that women do in the way of propagating the species, even if
    we allow ourselves to admit that the cost of doing it is often (to the
    women) very high? Is it because it's women who are doing it?
    
    D.
                         

    I think it's because if we actually *acknowledge* the power of creation
    women have, it makes them much more threatening to men.  It makes them
    able to do something men cannot, and if we revere this power rather
    they trying to control women through it, or control it for certain
    women which thus demeans the women for having the ability - well if we
    revere this power and raise it up in glory that will upset the balance.
    
    Now won't it?
    
    -Jody
    

So let's start one. Who should we memorialize, and why? I'm finding it hard
to come up with memorials to specific people, I usually end up thinking of
memorials to mothers of famous people, and that's not exactly right.

	-- Charles

    RE: .26
    
    Not just threatening to men but to the whole way our culture is
    run.  Acknowledging the power of birth, and affirming life,
    undermines practically everything our present society is built on.
    
    --bonnie

    
    exactly. very profound observation.
    

    
    Yes. But why is this so? How did we get to this point? And what can we
    do about it?
    
    D.

                -< why can't we affirm women's power / life ? >-

    This conversation is making me a bit uncomfortable.  Our society tends
    to forget, and find it convenient to forget, that both men and women
    have reproductive roles.  (For evidence, see the discussion on the
    Johnson Controls Supreme Court case).

    However, I have to look no further that a bumper sticker I saw last
    night ("The most dangerous place in the United States is inside a
    mother's womb".  I'm not debating it here, just reporting.) to see
    that a women's power over life is being acknowledged, although not
    in a positive sense.

    Truly affirming women's power over life - in all of it's positive 
    aspects - is the first step towards a matriarchy.  I think that in 
    our society, however, "affirming women's power over life" would have
    the opposite effect - forcing women out of the workplace because of
    "the importance of their reproductive role" and causing a return to
    the days where women were, as a rule, economically dependent on men.
    I fear that such "affirmation" would take the form not of acknowledging
    the contribution to society of the woman who gives birth, but of
    criminalizing the role of the women who does not seek prenatal care.

    Glorifying life (birth and survival) instead of death (war) would
    be a step in the right direction, but ultimately it means that we as
    a society, like the women of previous generations, must be prepared
    to sacrifice our right to self-determination to The Cause.  And given
    some of the alternatives to self-determination currently on this planet,
    I'm not sure that's a step in the right direction at all.

    Monuments are fine; they are static tributes to events that are firmly
    in the past.  A custom of continuous affirmation of women's birthing
    role is a two-edged sword -- and one which I would not care in the 
    hands of the local patriarchs.

	Sharon

    There is a sculpture park in Oslo, Norway; my favorite statue there is
    of a young mother lofting her baby in her outstretched arms.  The
    joy on both their faces is brighter than the sun.
    
    Most of the sculpture in the park has the theme of celebrating ordinary 
    human life.
    
    *********
    
    I like to go into old New England graveyards to see the stones and read
    the inscriptions.  I feel so sad when I see the grave of a man who died
    in his 60s surrounded by the graves of young wives and babies. 
    
       Margaret

    A friend of mine at work has a brother-in-law who carves granite rocks
    for a hobby.
    
    When I found that out, I asked him to get his bil to carve a rock
    for a grave stone for a woman that I knew that had been buried
    in an unmarked grave.
    
    I found a member of the cemetary committee who was willing to
    dig a hole and put in some concrete mixture and mount the stone.
    
    It cost me $20 which I can ill afford now, but I paid gladly..
    
    maybe if each of us could do something similar (my friend died
    of old age after being a foster mother for a very large number
    of troubled boys) we could set up small personal memorials to 
    women who we knew died in child birth, or momuments in praise
    of mothers or women ....
    
    maybe something personal like this would have a quite effect that
    would ripple out..
    
    Bonnie

    
    .36 -
    
    Just a *good* idea!
    
    D.
    

re. several

a walk through any place where my people are buried or memorialised yields to
the reader more than a few 'beloved wife, taken in childbed.'

it often seems to me, in this age of relative safety in childbirth, that many
of us lose sight of the that fact that the outcome was uncertain for both mother
and child.  Even when we remember, we find something repugnant in it.

that _both_ parents did/do not endure pain and risk death in the process always
struck me as GROSSLY unfair; however, if I am honest with myself I cannot
blame the father for this simple fact.  It _is_ very sad to see many graves of
young women dead from childbirth; but I wouldn't be any less sad if their
husbands had never remarried or fathered subsequent children.  They would still
be dead.

the idea of a memorial to women who risked, and lost, their lives by their 
life-reaffirming attempts is infinitely more desirable to me than memorialising
deaths in war. Let's see ... I was born in Suffolk County in 1955.  With some
research I could probably gather the names of those women dead in childbirth
in that year in Suffolk County.  Now, where on the Common or in the Public 
Garden would make a good site? who shall I talk to first? and who wants to 
help?

  Annie

    Last night on the local TV news (Boston) during the sports report they
    mentioned the death of the wife of a hockey player.  She died following
    complications of childbirth.
    
    Mary

There is a monument in West Virginia ( I forget which town ) which is called
the Madonna of the Trail and memorializes the pioneer women.  It is a strong
and beautiful monument that shows the multiple contribution of these brave and
determined women.  The pioneer women drove wagons, plowed fields, cooked, made
all the cloth and clothing for the family, raised vegetables, defended their
homes and gave birth.  I am sure life was tough for all the pioneers, but
especially for the women.  The monument does emphasize the role in giving birth
by showing the woman with two children. 

I remember taking my daughter to see this monument when she was in high school.
She had been a big fan of the television program Little House on the Prairie
and like me had read all the Laura Ingalls Wilder books.  I always disliked the
television series because Carolyn Grassel who played the mother in the series
always seemed such a whimp.  

I remember telling my daughter that the pioneer women knew they wern't on any
pedestal.  But then we all always knew about the pedestal myth.

I would like to have a small replica of this statue.

    I believe that you will find one Madonna of the Trail monument in each
    state that the old National Road runs through.  At one point in my life
    I actually had the idea of taking a photograph of every one as I
    traveled across the country.  I recall, for example, that there is a
    Madonna of the Trail statue in Richmond, Indiana, along U.S. 40.

    -- Mike

    
    What is the "old National Road"?  Where does it start?  End?
    What is it called in each of the states it passes through?
    I've never heard of it...
    
    CQ

    A long time ago, the National Road was the principle east-west U.S.
    highway.  Most of it later became U.S. 40.
    
    -- Mike

    
    
    Oh, cool.  :-)  I just happened to have my atlas inside and it starts 
    in Wilmington, North Carolina and ends in Barstow, California.
       
    CQ              

     Christine, I think that is I-40 you are looking at, not U.S. 40.  :-)

    I just perused an old book I purchased from the Indiana Historical
    Society, "U.S. 40:  A Roadscape of the American Experience".  The
    National road was 677 miles long, and was the first major road to be
    built with federal funds, and "the most important overland route
    linking the Midwest with the Atlantic seaboard in the early nineteenth
    century."  It was "proposed in 1784 by George Washington and Albert
    Gallatin," and was "first financed by Congress in 1805 during Thomas
    Jefferson's administration".  It was "surveyed and constructed across
    Indiana [my home state] from Richmond to Terre Haute between 1827 and
    1839".  It was officially named the Cumberland Road, because it began
    at Cumberland, MD.

    In the early 1900s, the National Old Trails Association was formed; its
    intention was to form the National Old Trails Road as "a paved,
    all-weather, no-toll route from coast to coast by preserving and
    improving the old Cumberland Road east of the Mississippi and linking
    it with the Santa Fe Trail in the west."  Among other things, they
    painted red, white and blue on fences, telephone and utility poles
    along the route.  My grandfather once told me about the red, white and
    blue motif along the road.  This was before the modern highway system,
    so it was important for motorists to be able to find their way along
    these routes.

    The Madonna of the Trail monuments run across the path of the National
    Old Trails Road, and were built by the DAR in the first half of the
    century.

    -- Mike

    
    Ooops.  So I was.
    
    CQ
       

> .16  RANDALL 
>      Re: the motherhood cult.  There's a book by that title, written in
>      the 70's.  I don't remember who wrote it; does anybody else?  It
>      describes the way we worship idealized Mothers. ...

Bonnie,

Could this be a recollection of the essay "Momism"?  Recalled in a 
happier, kinder spirit than it deserves.  The essay was written by 
by Phillip Wylie and, I believe, included in the book _Nation of 
Vipers_, published in the 60's.  "Momism" was an exercise in hate, 
where Wylie spewed out every small, mean, nasty, snide comment one 
could make about American women.  The meanness was disguised behind
his respect for "real" mothers.  Contempt in print. 

I've often felt that much of the energy expended in the movement 
was a response to the raw contempt our culture has toward all things 
female, including motherhood and mothering. 

Folks who want to see how much things have changed might want to 
take a look at this essay.  Nowdays, this type of raw contempt is 
not often found in mainline publishing circles.  

Side note to writers: 
Wylie stated several times that he didn't write the essay: "It wrote
him." Which makes for a scary comment on the American subconscious.
It caused an immense uproar, with a huge number of people believing 
that "mom" had destroyed American culture. It was all "mom's" fault.       

Side note to science fiction fans: 
Wylie also wrote _The Disappearance_, a novel in which all the men and 
women of the world disappear from each other, each sex finding itself 
on a "normal" Earth except the other sex is not present.  The book
gives a crystal clear picture of the American view of the sexes, 
circa 1955.           Meigs

    re: .47

    No, Meigs, I'm not thinking of the Momism essay.  I remember that
    one.  Painfully.

    I think the the book I'm remembering came out a bit later than
    Wylie's.  It was definitely not an "it's all mom's fault" book. 
    It described how defining motherhood as such an honored and
    unrealistic role trapped the flesh-and-blood mothers who could
    never live up to that role in a cycle of self-hate for their
    failure.  It did talk about how being taught to idealize one's
    mother rather than love her crippled the mother-child
    relationship, which would be much healthier if mother and child
    could relate as real, fallible, loving adults.

    --bonnie

    
    A friend tells me that the ballad I mentioned in .1 about Queen Jane
    was recorded by the Bothy Band and is on their record called "The Best
    of the Bothy Band." It's called "The Death of Queen Jane."
    
    D.

    Mary Wollstonecraft, author of Vindication of the Rights of Women,
    died in 1797, of infection, a few days after giving birth to her 
    second daughter, and only child by Charles Godwin, Mary 
    Wollstonecraft Godwin Shelley.
    
    Mary was in her late 30s when she died.

    One of my great-great-grandmothers, Sarah Ormes Cheney, died of
    complications a week after my great-grandfather, Henry Cheney, was born
    in Nov. 1842.  (I hate to imagine what that week must have been like
    for her.  She was in her 20's, had been married for 6 yrs., and he was
    her second child).  Three years later her husband, Ziba Cheney, (what a
    name, huh? Ziba), married a woman named Ann Clark and had a few more
    children.
    
    This is recorded in "A History of Milford, Mass." by Adin Ballou,
    published in 1882, of which I have a copy.  It's quite interesting. 
    There is one instance where the author refers to one woman who died
    after giving birth to her 11th child, by some phrase like "This good
    woman finally wore out after years of faithful service" or something to
    that effect.  I almost threw-up when I read it.  
    
    I'm not sure who Adin Ballou was but I *think* there is a statue of him
    on the common in Milford, Mass.  His book is scattered with various
    narrowminded judgements of other townspeople for not being hardworking
    enough, not going to church regularing, etc.
    
    Ironically he did make at least one mistake in his history book,
    though, because where Sarah's death is noted, it also states that the
    baby died, too.  He didn't.  He was my great-grandfather and he lived
    to be over 80 yrs. old, had 5 children, many grandchildren and has many
    descendants scattered around the country today.
    
    My mother used to tell me that even as an old man he used to tell her
    that he had always wished his own mother had lived because he had
    always felt that his step-mother favored her own children over him and
    his older sister, Amanda.
    
    BTW, Amanda is dismissed as "no further traced" in the history of
    Milford, but my mother could remember her father mentioning an Aunt
    Mandy.
    
    Glancing through a book like this really brings home the fact that, so
    far, history is written about men.  All the families are traced through
    the males names, of course, and many times hardly anything was known
    about the wives of many of the men - not their last names or date or
    place of birth.  
    
    Lorna
    

>    Glancing through a book like this really brings home the fact that, so
>    far, history is written about men.  All the families are traced through
>    the males names, of course, and many times hardly anything was known
>    about the wives of many of the men - not their last names or date or
>    place of birth.  
    
    Oh, yeah!  I was appalled to discover that although one branch of my
    family tree is traced back to the 1600's, the women's names stop
    appearing almost *two centuries* earlier.  I'm not talking about
    just their maiden names, either; their first names aren't even there.  
    The spaces are _blank_.  In the stories someone wrote down about the
    family emigrating to America, moving westward, etc., only males are
    mentioned.

    In later years, my forefathers (male separatists?) lost this
    parthenogenetic ability.

	Sharon

    
    The ballad in .1, The Death of Queen Jane, as sung by Micheal
    O'Domhnaill, is also on the Bothy Band's record called After Hours, a
    live concert in Paris which I think was their last recording. (My
    husband gave the record to me yesterday as an anniversary present.)
    
    Still sniffling, :-}
    
    D.
    

From Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary:

"Adam: the first man and father by Eve of Cain and Abel."

"Eve: the first woman and wife of Adam."


-- So much for motherhood, or, just whose lineage are we tracing here anyway?

Take a guess,  :-\

D.