Bundling; Its Origin, Progress and Decline in America

by Henry Reed Stiles

By Chastelleux, whose book I am not able to refer to now, the charge is repeated, and by half a score of other honest, good natured people, who have made books about the New World.

But, if you enquire into the business, you are pretty sure to be told, inquire where you may, that bundling is not known there, but somewhere further back in the woods, or further down east. Nay, while in every part of the United States the multitude speak of bundling as the habit of their neighbors, either east, west, north, or south, where the witches of the country were located about a century ago by the grandfathers of this generation, I, myself, though I have taken trouble enough to learn the truth, have never yet been able to meet with a case of bundling—of bundling proper, I should say—in the United States, nor with but one trustworthy individual who had ever met with so much as one case, and he had met with but one, for which he would give his word. These things are trifles; but when they are told in books that are read and trusted to throughout Europe; such books, too, as that of the Marquis de Chastelleux, or that of De Rouchefoucault, it becomes a matter of serious inquiry. The truth must be told, whatever it is, for the truth cannot be so bad, whatever it may be, as the untruth which is now repeated of us.

The travels of Chastelleux are translated by an Englishman who had been a long while in this country. The book was undoubtedly written with great care, by a very honest, able man, who had very good opportunities of knowing the truth; and is now set off by another very honest, able man, who was, if anything, rather partial to America—enough to make one wary of trusting the report of any traveler who does not say in so many words, after establishing a character for himself—I saw this; I heard this; I take nobody's word for what I now say, etc., etc. It would be easy to enumerate a multitude of other stories which are now believed in, about the people of the United States, not only by the people of Europe, and of Great Britain particularly, but by the people of the United States themselves. But a dry catalogue of such things would be of little use.

[Here he refers to the charge reported of New Englanders, that that they eat pork and molasses—pork and molasses TOGETHER, which is here denied as a ridiculous story. H. R. S.]

They bundle in Wales; bundling there is a serious matter. A lady—a Welsh woman whose word is truth itself—assured me not long ago, that in her country they do not think a bit the worse, of a girl for anticipating her duties, in other words, for being a mother before she has been a wife; they have discovered, perhaps, that cause and effect may be convertible terms; that in such a serious matter, none but a fool would buy a pig in the poke, and that, after all, maternity may lead to marriage there, as marriage leads to maternity here. And why not? for after the establishment of the lying-in hospitals of Russia, the unmarried who bore children to the state were proud of the duty, and were looked upon, we are told, with great favor by the public. She added, also, that she was once at a party made up of sixteen or eighteen females, and females of good characters, all but one or two of whom were mothers, or had been so, before they were married. By Chastelleux and his English translator it would appear to have been very much the same in America about the years 1780-1-2. It is not so now. To have had a child before marriage would now be fatal to a woman here, whatever might be her condition or beauty; fatal in every shape. No man would have courage to marry her; no woman of character would associate with her. Ask the first individual you meet, above the age of twelve or thirteen here, and you may have the name and history of every poor girl in the neighborhood who has been so unlucky as to have a child of her own without leave, perhaps, within a period of six or eight years in a populous neighborhood of twenty or thirty miles about. A widow with half a score of children, forty years ago, if we may believe Dr. Franklin, was an object for the fortune hunters of America. It is not so now. The demand for widows, and for every sort of ready made family is beginning to be over.

That which is called bundling here, though bad enough, is not a twentieth part so bad. Here it is only a mode of courtship. The parties instead of sitting up together, go to bed together; but go to bed with their clothes on. This would appear to be a perilous fashion; but I have been assured by the individual above, that he had proof to the contrary; for in the particular case alluded to, the only case I ever heard of on good authority, although he was invited by the parents of a pretty girl who stood near him, to bundle with her, and although he did bundle with her, he had every reason to believe, that if he had been very free, or more free than he might have been at a country frolick after they had invited him to escort her, to sit up with her, to dance with her, he would have been treated as a traitor by all parties. He had a fair opportunity of knowing the truth, and he spoke of the matter as if he would prefer the etiquette of sitting up to the etiquette of going to bed with a girl who had been so brought up. He complained of her as a prude. The following communication appears, however, to be one that may be depended on:[40]

"MR. NEAL—If you wish to know the truth about bundling, I think your correspondent V. could tell you all about it—it seems by his confession that he has practiced it on a large scale. I never heard of the thing till about three years ago; an acquaintance of mine had gone to spend the summer with an aunt, who lived somewhere near Sandy river.[41] The following is a copy of one of her letters while there:

"'I should have written sooner, so don't think me unkind, for I have been waiting for something to write about. You requested me to give you a faithful description of the country, the manners and customs of the inhabitants, etc. I have not been here quite three months, but I have been everywhere, seen everything, and got acquainted with everybody. I shall certainly inform you of everything I have seen or heard that is worth relating.

"'You remember how you told me, before I left home, that I was so well looking that if I went so far back in the country I should be very much admired and flattered, and have as many lovers as I could wish for. I find it all true. The people here are remarkably kind and attentive to me; they seem to think that I must be something more than common because I have always lived so near Portland.

"'But I must tell you that since I have been here I have had a beau. You must know that the young men, in particular, are very attentive to me. Well, among these is one who is considered the finest young man in the place, and well he may be—he owns a good farm, which has a large barn upon it, and a neat two story house, all finished. These are the fruits of his own industry; besides he is remarkably good looking, is very large but well-proportioned, and has a good share of what I call real manly beauty. Soon after my arrival here I was introduced to this man—no, not introduced neither, for they never think of such a thing here. They all know me of course, because I am a stranger. Some days, three, four, or half a dozen, call to see me, whom I never before saw or heard of; they come and speak to me as if I were an old acquaintance, and I converse with them as freely as if I had always known them from childhood. In this kind of a way I got acquainted with my beau, that was; he was very attentive to me from our first meeting. If we happened to be going anywhere in company he was sure to offer me his arm—no, I am wrong again, he never offered me his arm in his life. If you go to walk with a young man here, instead of offering you his arm as the young men do up our way, he either takes your hand in his, or passes one arm around your waist; and this he does with such a provoking, careless honesty, that you cannot for your life be offended with him. Well, I had walked with my Jonathan several times in this kind of style. I confess there was something in him I could not but like—he does not lack for wit, and has a good share of common sense; his language is never studied—he always seems to speak from the heart. So when he asked what sort of a companion he would make, I very candidly answered, that I thought he would make a very agreeable one. "I think just so of you," said he, "and it shall not be my fault," he continued, "if we are not companions for life." "We shall surely make a bargain," said he, after sitting silent a few moments, "so we'll bundle to-night." "Bundle what?" I asked. "We will bundle together," said he; "you surely know what I mean." I know that our farmers bundle wheat, cornstalks and hay; do you mean that you want me to help you bundle any of these?" inquired I. "I mean that I want you to stay with me to-night! It is the custom in this place, when a man stays with a girl, if it is warm weather, for them to throw themselves on the bed, outside the bed clothes; if the weather is cold, they crawl under the clothes, then if they have anything to say, they say it—when they get tired of talking they go to sleep; this is what we call bundling—now what do you call it in your part of the world?" "We have no such works," answered I; "not amongst respectable people, nor do I think that any people would, that either thought themselves respectable, or wished to be thought so."