More about Mehetabel

(Continued)

to make a fine Drink
take 4 pounds of whitte
Suger, one quartt of lime
Guice; four Gallons of watter
and one Gallon of Rum,
putt 2 Cloves into each
bottle cork them well &
tye them down keep them
Cool in sand & in two or
three weeks itt will bee
fitt for your use.

to make suger Cake
take 1 pound of flower
1 pound of suger
3 qur of a pound of butter
6 eggs ½ a pint of Rose
Water, Rub the butter
and suger together
then put in the flower
and eggs & Rosewater
and then beat it a
little while

for a cough
take ¼ [?] of figs an ounce
of sugercandy ½ a pint
of brandy, put it into
a cup let it stand a
while & it will be a
thick surrup

the tooth of a dead man
Carried about you presently
easeth pain.

  • PoemDiary

Mehetabel’s interest in keeping a personal record may have been influenced by her mother’s own writings. Elizabeth Douglas Chandler’s (1641–1705) sixty-four-page “Meditation, or Poem, being an Ep[ic?] of the Experiences and Conflicts of a Poor Trembling Soul in ye First Fourty Years of Her Life,” completed circa 1681 and housed in Yale University’s Manuscripts and Archives collection, is a remarkable literary effort that reflects a conviction that her experiences were of consequence and worth documenting. An excerpt from the poem, which describes Elizabeth’s evolving relationship with God, follows.

If of my Life I shou’d account ye age
the days and years of my poor Pilgrimage
the time I’ve Lived in this vale of tears
Doth now amount unto twice twenty years
In Wilderness I’ve wandred fourty years
I have Been often Lost and fil’d with fears
Much Like to Israel hath my Progress Been
For many Sore temtations I have seen
The Fiery Serpents oft my Soul hath wounded
Yet through Gods Grace I never was Confounded
But wth his Goodness I have Been Surrounded.
When as I meditate on what is Past
And Seriously my thoughts & Eye I Cast
Upon my Pathes my wandring feet have Trod
And on the Goodness of my Gracious God
My wandring muse doth Swim[?] in Contemplation
My Soul is filled full with admiration
And Cou’d I Butt my meditations Raise
I’de Sing a Song unto my makers Praise.