To a plain Mahogany Cradle

There is only one known image of Anne Cadwalader, John and Elizabeth Cadwalader’s first-born child. She sits on Thomas Affleck’s mahogany card table, the carving-embellished knees visible in the foreground of Peale’s family portrait. Painted in 1772, Anne is nearly one; her mother still guards her on her perch, one arm around the baby’s back, the other gently, protectively, on her lap.

There are traces of Anne’s childhood in the Cadwalader Papers held by the Historical Society of Pennsylvania in receipts for baby clothes. More solid evidence is found in William Robinson’s receipt of December 28, 1771, paid on December 30, 1771.

“To a plain Mahogany Cradle………… £3-0-0. ” That’s about £261.77 in 2017 purchasing power, or about 30 days’ wages for a skilled tradesman, according to the National Archives UK. The Bank of England puts it at £449.51, or about $600 today. I’m out of the loop on fancy bassinets, but it looks like you can get a snazzy $700 bassinet today. It’s hard to say what kind of parents the Cadwaladers would be today– whatever people like that would have, I wouldn’t know.

But I wondered, what did the Cadwaladers have? I looked at the Philadelphia Museum of Art for an example. It’s reasonably simple, with some carving on the hood that I would expect for a Cadwalader cradle, but it’s not quite as elegant in form: the hood feels a little off, but Philadelphia furniture can be over the top that way.

Then I remembered I own Nicholas Wainwright’s book, Colonial Grandeur in Philadelphia, and looked there. The cradle was sold in a large auction of Cadwalader family furnishings in 1904, where it was hopefully, if mistakenly, presented as “John Cadwalader’s cradle, of 1742.”

That cradle was simpler indeed than I expected! No hood, no carving, just gentle curves and elegant lines. Did Cadwalader order it in haste? It’s not as if he hadn’t had months to take care of this task, but perhaps he and Elizabeth were superstitious and waited until Anne lived to order the cradle. She could have slept in a child-bed basket sold by milliner Anne Pearson, already supplying the Cadwaladers from her shop on Second Street between Chestnut and Market. Anne was baptized at Christ Church on January 4, 1772, and there was (and is) a gap between birth and baptism, but her actual birthdate is not listed in the Rector’s Register.

William Robinson, joiner, lived or worked on Front Street between German (Fitzwater) and Catherine Streets in Southwark, perhaps half a mile from Cadwalader’s townhouse on Second Street. Robinson owned other property, including an insured property on Second Street. (The viewer is not working at the time of this writing, so I can’t tell whether this is a home or workshop.)

Robinson was just one of many Philadelphia craftsmen working for the Cadwaladers, creating luxuries and necessities alike. Through these records, we can see not only the quality (and quantity) of goods the family ordered, but also their lives evolving. Here, even without the tender family portrait, we can see John Cadwalader caring about his daughter, finding just the right craftsman, the right cradle, for her comfort. We can see Anne’s birth and John’s evolution into a father, in just one slip of paper.