Tag Archives: newspapers

Making an Impression

15 Thursday Mar 2018

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Trade card for Dorothy Mercier, Printseller and Stationer; Etching with engraved lettering below. Print by Jean Baptiste Chatelain after Gravelot. 1745-1770. British Museum, D,2.3396

Dorothy Mercier: widow of an artist (and a painter herself), Mercier went into business after the death of her husband, Philip, first as a printseller and stationer, and later as a purveyor of artists’ supplies. Some of what she sold is listed below the vignette of a shop, and includes ‘all Sorts of Papers for Drawing, &c./ The best Black Lead Pencils, Black, Red & White Chalk./ Variety of Water-Colours, and Camels Hair Pencils./…English, Dutch, & French Drawing Paper, Abortive Vellum for Drawing,/ Writing Vellum, the Silk Paper for Drawing.’ She also sold “Continental prints” and “paintings of flowers in her own hand,” a pursuit considered suitable for ladies in the mid-18th century.

Evidence of widows taking over a husband’s print shop in the American colonies in the 18th century is harder to come by–there seems to be less specialization of retail sales in the colonies, certainly compared to London, which is one factor–though printers’ widows did assume their trade in Newport and Williamsburg, among other places. If we imagine a print shop in the colonies, what would we find for sale?

Nicholas Brooks’ ad from the Pennsylvania Packet of June 21, 1773 provides an answer:

Mrs. Yates in the character of Electra; Venus blinding Cupid by Strange (that’s a print by Robert Strange after Titian, no matter what glorious oddity you may imagine), and portraits of George Whitefield, John Wesley, and other religious luminaries. Whitefield and Wesley were popular Methodist ministers: Whitefield, the peripatetic evangelist, was the primary force behind the Great Awakening, and Wesley, despite his loyalty to King and Church, was an inspiration to the Revolutionary movement in America.

John Wesley after Nathaniel Hone
mezzotint, published 1770
© National Portrait Gallery, London NPG D4740

This print of Wesley is one I have seen in person, in a period frame, with a period backboard inscribed “Capt. Wm Noyes 1st Conts” and to be fair, it is one I have spent some time researching, so the titles in that Nicholas Brooks ad– which I was reading for another purpose altogether– were exciting to find. When I think about visual or print culture in the Revolutionary era, I try to imagine the ways in which people encountered imagery, and how they understood it. Wesley– and print shops– are one way I begin to fill in a picture of the past.

Cakes and Honey

03 Saturday Mar 2018

Posted by in History, Living History, material culture, Research

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Watercolor cakes: first invented by William Reeves in 1766 and sold in an improved form in 1780, watercolor cakes made painting easier then before. Colors still had to be ground in water to be used (that’s what the rectangular depression is for in the ceramic palette), but that was a step ahead of grinding the pigments with gum arabic yourself. Each pigment (usually a mineral, sometimes not) requires a specific amount of gum arabic, and in the 18th and early 19th century, both gum arabic and gum tragacanth were both used. In this era of experimentation, even gum hedera (from Hedera helix, or English ivy) was used, both as a diluent for animal glue size and in egg white varnish. The variation in gum types and amounts found in watercolor cakes and cake remains gives us an idea of how much experimentation and variation happened in the pre-industrial era of color production.

The Art of Drawing and Painting in Water-Colors, London: 1735.

Recipes (or receipts) were published beginning at least as early as 1730, with the promise of better, richer, and cheaper colors (qualities that did not always coexist easily). It’s not clear whether the watercolors sold in the American colonies were made locally or imported from Great Britain, but my best guess is that prepared watercolors (sold in shells and out of shells) were probably imported, if only because the sellers so often list many other goods.

Nicholas Brooks Ad, June 21, 1773 Pennsylvania Packet (Philadelphia).

How watercolors are sold evolves over time and varies by place: In 1771 Boston, John Gore, who specializes in artist’s materials at the Sign of the Painters Arms, offers “Water Colours ready prepar’d in Shells” in addition to a variety of artists’ pigments probably ground with different media to each artist’s specifications.

John Gore, Boston Evening Post, March 25, 1771.

Ten years later, Valentine Nutter, Stationer, offers “water colours in drops, shells, or galley pots,” suggesting that some cakes were prepared in ceramic pots or dishes (gallipots) and available in the United States by 1781. What the “drops, shells, or galley pots” looked like exactly is slightly conjectural: drop are probably corked bladders or bottles; shells are probably cockle shells (watercolor being concentrated means one wouldn’t need a cherrystone clam shell, let alone a quahog) but “galley pots” seem more elusive until you consider the Wedgwood paint chest.

blue and white jasper ware paint chest or box for moist watercolours: English, Staffordshire, Etruria, by Wedgwood, c. 1787. National Museum of Scotland, A.1893.84 A

The tiny pots that drop into the oval tray fall within the gallipot definition, and give us an idea of what Mr Nutter might have offered in his New York shop, filled with ground pigment, gum arabic, and a portion of honey to make the cakes re-wettable. Not every artist working in watercolor used honey, as recorded in a 1775 letter from John Singleton Copley to his mother, recording that “Mr. Humphrey tells me he uses no Shugar Candy in his colours.”

The East Indies Trade

28 Wednesday May 2014

Posted by in Clothing, History, Research

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Saris drying after a vodka bath

Like any good Rhode Island trader, I am pleased to announce the acquisition of some India silks. To be fair, I have not burn tested these, so while they were sold as pure and not ‘art’ silk, one never knows till one puts fabric to flame.

As reported elsewhere, these did have an odor (as most vintage and used textiles do) but a bath in vodka and cold water solved that. They seemed color fast, and brighter after washed. It’s really nice when what you read on the interwebs is true, isn’t it? Thanks to the Laced Angel blog entry, Mr S and I found ourselves at the liquor store asking for the cheapest vodka they had. It came in a plastic bottle, and we were compelled to explain we were going to be cleaning with it. The manager seemed pleased to get the tip, since his wife has a collection of her aunt’s doilies and  things in their garage… I think Mr S was glad to drag me away, but he does get more human contact than I do, these days.

Samuel Ames, May 19, 1796

Samuel Ames, May 19, 1796

Besides just loving the fabrics and the potential for gowns and waistcoats, trading on Etsy with women in India pleases me logistically and historically. I retain a Huckle Cat fascination and delight with mail services, and am just astonished that a woman in New Delhi can wrap these up and put them into the India mail service and a week later they’ve made it to Rhode Island. How many trucks and airplanes does that take? And in the 18th and early 19th centuries, how many carts and ships and wagons?

Lopez and dexter 1809

By May 1796, the partnership of Brown & Francis was probably faltering (they dissolved that August, probably due to John Francis’ ill health), but Samuel James might well have boughtthe goods he advertised at wholesale from Brown & Francis. There were other importers, of course, in other Rhode Island ports, as Lopez & Dexter in Newport, advertising goods in 1809. Five cases of India silks! Four cases of fancy Prints!

It’s astonishing, the quantity of goods brought from the East, as astonishing in its way as the quantity of goods we bring from the East today. The range of colors, prints, and textures must have been incredible! For all the white muslin gowns of the Early Federal/Regency period that remain in collections, there must also have been numerous patterned gowns, shawls, and Spencers, and fancy ribbon trims, not to mention fancy silk waistcoats made up from the silks.   I think we underestimate the rich texture of the past at multiple class levels– these ranges of goods hint at how colorful and acquisitive our ancestors were.

Ballet Arthritique

28 Tuesday Jan 2014

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Three men wearing orthopedic apparatus. Etching and engraving by Paul Sandby, 1783. Wellcome Library image L0019751

How was arthritis pain treated in the 18th century? One option was the mustard plaster, which operates on the principle that heat generated by the plaster increases blood flow, which will reduce inflammation. Frankincense supposedly inhibits the production of molecules that cause inflammation and break down cartilage tissue, which leads to joint pain, at least in knees. This level of scientific knowledge wasn’t available to the 18th century physick, but frankincense is an edible aromatic resin with a long history of use in treating ailments including arthritis. At least you (or your breath) would smell good.

The primary ailment treated of was gout, and the remedies above are mostly directed at inflammatory arthritis, the kind where joints grow red and swollen. Think of wealthy, overweight men drinking port with swollen feet propped up on footstools: that’s gout.

Models showing progressive arthritis in a knee, followed by joint replacement.

Then there’s osteoarthritis, or degenerative joint disease, once included in the catchall and obsolete term, rheumatism. This is a different matter, where changing your diet and icing the joint generally won’t bring much relief. When your cartilage is gone, your bones rub together. Osteophystes or bone spurs form is response to damage or inflammation, and cause both pain and noise.
In the pre-joint replacement era, treating this kind of arthritis was treating chronic pain. (In this era, that’s still the case: absent a TJR or resurfacing, all that’s treated is pain. Once the joint is replaced, there’s nothing left to hurt. It’s a neat little trick.)

Providence Gazette and Country Journal, June 16, 1764. V II, Issue 87, page 3

Providence Gazette and Country Journal, June 16, 1764. V II, Issue 87, page 3

In pre-Revolution Boston and Rhode Island, there were various cures advertised promising far more benefit than they were likely to deliver. Phillip Bourne, from Greenwich Hospital in England, promises to “undertake curing any Persons who are afflicted with the Gout and Rheumatic Pains, with the greatest Facility and Safety imaginable.” The caveat about “especially such as have not been visited with those Disorders for more than Seven Years” is particularly nice, since the longer pain persists, the harder it is to treat. He knew his limits, I suppose, if only of his patience, or the amount of time he could safely ‘practice’ in any location.

Boston Gazette, February 14, 1774.

Boston Gazette, February 14, 1774.

Edes and Gill sold Keyser’s Famous Pills, “So well known all over Europe,” and promising much, like Cures for Scorbutic Eruptions, Leprosies, White Swellings, Stiff Joints, Gout and Rheumatic Disorders, etc.” I don’t know about you, but I think I’d prefer to have my scurvy treatments separate from my arthritis treatments.

Ultimately, the best option was probably a crutch or cane, though braces were devised and are still used, along with crutches and canes. All that prevents their use or efficacy is the vanity of the user.

The Authenticity Challenge

14 Wednesday Aug 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Events, Research

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We’re going up to Minute Man on August 24, or at least that’s the plan. We have hostages to exchange (one ends up with other folks’ spoons and bowls when one does the dishes) and drilling to do for the September 28 event in Boston.

Immediately after Sturbridge, the authenticity question blossomed on the interwebs, as there was an unusually fine crop of bodices on view in the village that weekend. (To be clear, I am pro-authenticity and anti-bodice, but I am still working over my thoughts on authenticity, which veered into hermeneutics, and are therefore not really germane to the conversation.)

Authenticity and standards are in the ether, and for this year’s event, all participants are asked to provide documentation, not just the people taking part in the challenge. I plan attend but not to partake of the challenge, as I have no desire to relive my childhood of never-even-third-place, thank you. Instead, I’m merely queasy and scrambling, as the only person in our household who seems really documented to me is the Young Mr, with his snuff-colored trousers  currently under construction, and two jackets from which he may be able to choose (presuming I get all buttonhole inspired). So he’s good. Run away!

I’ve been working on a ‘secret’ gown that’s not totally secret, but don’t feel I can adequately document it for this event. I have examples of the fabric advertised for sale, and a period print. But so far, the only gowns of this fabric type described in runaway ads have dark grounds. Granted, servants might tend to wear darker, more dirt-hiding colors, but I don’t feel that one print and some wrong-ground ads are enough. Next!

Anne Carrowle is Philadelphia, not New England: she’s passable for Monmouth and other Mid-Atlantic events. Chintz jackets: also fine for those runaway Dutch servants in NY and Philadelphia. Next!

Brown wool seemed too heavy for August, but the way the weather has been of late, maybe not. Well, anyway, it could get hotter. Next!

1772 red pompadoreThat leaves me with the New Favorite Gown, which I like, but which is based on an earlier British watercolor, so must be slightly altered at the sleeve or cuff as well as documented. At first I could find nothing to suggest that the color and fabric were within the realm of documentary possibility. Eventually I did find an ad in the Newport Mercury for what might be a likely candidate.

“Ran away on Sunday the 19th instant, from the subscriber at Newport, an Irish indented maid servant, named Elioner Clievland, pretty tall, who is very corpulent, with a red complexion, brown hair, and has a scar and a large dent in one of her arms, had on a red pompadore gown, and light broadcloth cloak: ” Newport Mercury, 8-10-1772

claret poplinTwo years later, “ a likely tall Negro Woman, known by the name of Violet Shaw, about 25 years old; has a Blemish in one Eye, carried away with her a white Calico Riding Dress, a strip’d Calico Gown, a claret colour’d Poplin Gown, a strip’d blue and white Holland Gown, a Bengal Gown, and many other value Articles…” Boston Evening Post, 8-1-1774

Well, I’m tall, and far from 25, but thankfully, I am not corpulent. But here are two wool or wool-blend, gowns, in reddish colors, in the right time period and place. Unfortunately, I have not yet found striped, or striped linsey, petticoats in Rhode Island, Connecticut or Massachusetts in 1772-1775—plenty in Philadelphia, where there are more servants running away—so what to do? I’ll look a damn fool without a petticoat.
brown petticoat newport

ShortGown There’s the brown petticoat solution. There is one in Boston (Weston), in August, 1774, and another in Newport, in January, 1773. I like the “brown camblet skirt;” I don’t have camblet, but at least the drape of the lightweight wool and cotton will be closer to camblet than to wool. I can agonize over the suitability of fabrics (and the vagaries of style) in some other post.

I made the gown intending to wear it with a blue and yellow striped as-yet-unmade petticoat (to look like the watercolor), but have some brown wool I can make up instead. Better documented than not (or nude).

Aspirational Shopping

11 Saturday May 2013

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So, I always thought that window shopping was a product of the late 19th or early 20th century, the plate glass windows of the Bon Ton, and The Lady’s Paradise.

Providence Gazette and Country Journal, 4-18-1772

Providence Gazette and Country Journal, 4-18-1772

I was wrong.  Check out the last line in this ad from the Providence Gazette and Country Journal of April, 1772:

“Any Person not wanting to purchase, but having a Mind to see the greatest Pennyworths, shall be waited on with great Chearfulness, by their very humble Servant, PAUL ALLEN.”

In case we forget, the past is there to remind us that the consumer culture started much, much earlier than we think it did. Stop blaming Don Draper: I give you Paul Allen.

Chintz? Check!

10 Friday May 2013

Posted by in 1763 Project, Clothing, History, Research

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Les Fleur d' Inde

Les Fleur d’ Inde: delicious!

Because I am prey to a pretty print as much as the next princess costume blogger tenant farmer’s wife, I thought I should go  looking for evidence before I launch into any cotton sacques, and to justify the use of the print remnant I’m stitching up into a jacket. (Apologies in advance to my friend who bought enough for a gown, because you know we’ll wear them to the same event…)

Providence Gazette and Country Journal, March 16, 1765

Providence Gazette and Country Journal, March 16, 1765

American Historical Newspapers to the rescue, once again. Here’s an ad for Alexander Black and Archibald Stewart, from the Providence Gazette and Country Journal of March 16, 1765.  Chintz and calico: it’s here in Providence in 1765. I knew there were merchants selling calicoes and chintzes in Providence in 1768 (including Samuel Young, who printed his broadside in red).

Chintz and chip hatsThree years later, Joseph and Wm. Russell at the sign of the Golden Eagle are selling (lately imported from London and Bristol) “A neat and genteel assortment of dark ground calicoes and chintz.” This ad runs to four columns in the Providence Gazette and Country Journal, 1768, April 9. It’s a tantalizing list, and no, I did not miss those chip hats and bonnets!

forks!

Digression: I was attracted to this bit about forks as I recall being told by a historic house tour guide once that “forks were not in common use until the Civil War.” It’s an early house, maybe he meant the English Civil War, but I think forks were here to stay and be bought for a variety of prices long before the American Civil War. How else to explain those archaeological finds that show forks of some kind at Rev War forts and camp sites? /Digression. New digression: OMG, knitting needles! /New digression.

William Eliot

Back to chintz: Here, in 1771, is William Eliot, selling chintzes in Providence, and advertising in the Providence Gazette and Country Journal of June 1, 1771. He also has “flowered and sprigged lawn in aprons,” and Kenting and check handkerchiefs.  (Kenting was a fine linen fabric)

In the limited search I ran (1754-1783 newspapers), plenty of references to chintz appear in Providence alone (there were 166 hits, but the ads repeat). This completely unscientific approach in which I stopped looking in 1771*, has turned up 5 merchants, if you count the RIHS Library’s broadside for Samuel Young. Chintzes and calicoes were everywhere. Dark grounds were “genteel,” checks and spots and stripes are popular and common.

Paul Sandby, London Cries: Black Heart cherries... ca. 1759. YCBA, B1975.3.206

Paul Sandby, London Cries: Black Heart cherries… ca. 1759. YCBA, B1975.3.206

I begin to see 18th century Providence, if not all of the Colonies, as a variegated, kaleidoscopic place of pattern and color. I think there was more than we realize, even if only in small amounts.

Look again at the cherry seller: her petticoat is yellow and blue, if not yellow, blue, and white striped,  her apron is blue, her stockings brown or faded reddish, her cap is affixed with a pink or red ribbon, and she wears a checked kerchief. She’s poor and sort of faded, but she’s colorful–more colorful, perhaps, than we have credited.

*I do have to head out to work, but I can search again.

In the Grip of La Grippe

07 Tuesday May 2013

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lwlpr13377

The Life of a Nobleman: the sick room, LWL call no.
830.00.00.73+

I had a cold this week past, and quite miserable it made me, too. It got me thinking about illness, and historical perceptions of illness.

I love words, and old words are best, and one of my favorites has long been catarrh. It sounds just like what it is. The Times (another one of my loves) has a hilarious column on the subject, originally published in 1865. It makes me want to write a chapbook, “Letters on Cattarh.” The first known use of the word is in the 15th century, so chances are good it turns up in 18th century usage. In fact, it turns up in the Boston Post Boy of Jan 1 1736 not as a cause of death, but as the reason for the state of George Bethune’s lungs.

Scanning America’s Historical Newspapers (yes, I do this for fun) turns up more than 1,400 hits before 1783 alone for “illness,” most resulting in death, though some are described as past, and disfiguring. My money’s on smallpox for those.

Providence Gazette and Country Journal, 1768.

Providence Gazette and Country Journal, 1768.

Catarrh turns up 27 times. Here it is in the Providence Gazette and Country Journal of 1768. It’s from an extract of the minutes of the American Society, held at Philadelphia, for Promoting Useful Knowledge. I can imagine the gentlemen sitting with pipes and punch bowl, grumbling to each other, “We can send a ship to Suriname, but we can’t cure the common catarrh.” Or perhaps it is the ladies who say it, as the gentlemen come stumbling home from the meeting to Promote Useful Knowledge.

La Grippe

La Grippe, as experienced by poor Adelaide, is influenza. The etymology suggests a 1770-80 French origin, from gripper, to seize suddenly. That’s pretty descriptive, if you’ve ever had flu. La Grippe turns up in the index of the Philadelphia Repository and Weekly Register, January 1, 1803, as “prevalent at Paris,” and on April 9, 1803, we can read the little article about it.

On April 11, 1803, in the Alexandria Advertiser and Commercial Intelligencer there appears an “Extract of a private letter” describing interments of 400 per day, and 4000 in a ten-day period. This was serious, serious stuff. Facing illness today, we’re so much better off than people were in 1803, or even 1903. Germ theory is only 150 years old at the most, and really, thank goodness for it.

For more on the various diseases and epidemics of the past, I give you the Contagion database from Harvard. It’s an excellent collection of articles and links to additional reading, from smallpox to influenza. I feel better already.