Tag Archives: Reenacting

Can’t talk, sewing.

21 Thursday Mar 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Events, Living History, Reenacting

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Raspal,_Antoine_-_The_Couturiers_workshop_-_1760

I wish I had this workshop to help me! Instead, I have the “assistant” who tends to howl and a room full of garments to finish and alter. The skirts of the brown gown are done and want only tape at the hems, so I can, in theory, move onward to sleeves. I’ll have to scrap plans for an HSF petticoat this weekend, as I have really fallen behind.

Menswear, to finish and to alter

Battle Road inspection/walk through is Saturday, and second hand reports of the reactions to letters received have me thinking about authenticity, standards, and communication. Last Saturday, I went to see Sew18thCentury and had a lovely time. Not only did we have a delicious late lunch and tea, an interesting chat about ideas and sewing and all sorts of things, I also got to get outta town on my own. (For growing up in a city, I am very happy to spend time in open spaces with grass, trees, and cows.)

I mentioned to Sew18thCentury that we’d wrestled with Fort Ti and chosen not to go because we did not, in our estimation, meet standards, and she was surprised that we didn’t. In truth, we did not. The guys clothes weren’t right, and I know our blankets aren’t right…heck, our tent’s not right.

What makes it all worse is that I know these things aren’t right. So I’ve tracked down blankets and just need to order them, and the tent–well, not this year, but maybe next, I can get around to sewing a linen bell-back tent. Mr S has learned back-stitching and whip stitching this week, so in a year we could tackle a tent together. It’s a process, and this year, unless there was a miracle of increased speed in sewing, I still wouldn’t go to Fort Ti in September.

But what about Battle Road? This inspection is not just for safety, it’s also for dress and appearance. This has thrown me into a tizzy: the jacket’s not done and the coat’s not altered. If the guys don’t pass inspection, they can’t be part of Battle Road, and I’ll feel bad that I didn’t put alterations first. But realistically, I can’t imagine getting their things done by Saturday morning. At least the coat will have the alteration marks made by the master… the road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but the road to Battle Road is paved with pins and linen thread.

Three sticks, two kettles, no matches

20 Wednesday Feb 2013

Posted by in History, Living History, Reenacting

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Soldiers Cooking, 1798 National Army Museum (UK), 1983-11-63-1

Here’s some visual evidence for why we travel with three sticks, two kettles, and no matches. (We bring the sticks as we suspect the sites where we camp & cook don’t want amateur logging on their grounds.)  I stumbled upon this at the National Army Museum in the UK. Here’s what they say about the image:

Soldiers from an unknown unit attend to their cooking pot on a break from their duties during the Wars of the French Revolution (1793-1802). They are accompanied by their womenfolk. Although only a few men from each unit were officially allowed to marry and have their wives and families accompany them, women would have been found in almost every British military camp. Some worked as cooks, laundry women and sutlers (camp followers who sold provisions), while others were prostitutes.

One of the things one learns when reading about women who followed the armies of the Revolutionary War is that prostitution–at least for those following the American army– was not high on the list of occupations for women.

Why not? Lack of ready cash, folks.

Working for the Army would get you rations, and that literal meal ticket was desirable in a time of shortages and want. If you’d been burned out of your home or farm (I’m looking at you, 54th Reg’t of Foot, Aquidneck Island torchers) what would you eat? What would you do? It depended, of course, but one thing to do would be to follow your husband if he had enlisted.

I know less about the women who followed the British Army, but for a Continental Army start, I recommend the following books:

Belonging to the Army. Mayer, Holly A. USC Press, 1996.

Liberty’s Daughters. Norton, Mary Beth. Cornell, 1980. (My edition, 1996)

Revolutionary Mothers. Berkin, Carol. Vintage Books, 2005.

In Pursuit of Liberty. Werner, Emmy. Potomac Books, 2009.

The last title is about children in the time of the Revolution, not women, but considering who was left home with the children, and in trying to understand what the time might have been like for the Young Mr, I’ve given it a read as well.

As for the camp gear? We keep it at a minimum based on period images. We don’t all sleep in one tent, but we pack as light as we can. It’s nice when authenticity and ease are the same.

I Love a Man in a Uniform

27 Tuesday Nov 2012

Posted by in Clothing, History, Reenacting

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Maybe it’s about the musket?

But that’s not my man, that’s Brian. Nice uniform, though, right? Blue broadcloth with white facings and pewter buttons, a cap with a red cockade, fitted white overalls: what’s not to like? (Making one, that’s what, and one is in my future.)

After getting Mr S’s workman’s jacket to the brink of buttons and buttonholes, we looked at it and said, “It’s so…plain. Where are the contrast facings? The tape and the lace? Should it be so much, well, one color?” Peacocks suddenly made sense.

It’s not about the musket. It’s about the buttons. And the breeches.

I spend my 18th century time with men in uniforms, and I forget the role of line, fit, and color in determining style. I see it in paintings, and in lovely coats in museums, but one thing we don’t have a lot of are paintings of middling and lower men who look stylish. Of course not! They couldn’t afford paintings, and style–refinement at least–was associated with class and gentility. There was a coded language, and clothes said a lot about the wearer.

So what did uniforms say about men, and how much could civilians, especially women, read the symbols? Hessians, with their tall brass hats, and grenadiers, with bearskins, are dressed not just to impress, but to overwhelm, visually. At Fort Lee last year, my mother was distinctly impressed by, and a little frighted of, the Hessians and Jaegers: the uniforms worked as intended.

Facings and frocks: Rhode Island stands out

Light Infantry troops wanted to set themselves apart, and used their cut-down caps and short jackets to achieve immediate visual distinction.

Working men used what they had: checkered or printed handkerchiefs, patterned waistcoats, and better buttons were some of the ways they dressed up their clothes. I know brass buttons will be in my sewing box soon, the sooner the better, say the men I sew for.

The Wind From the Hudson

20 Tuesday Nov 2012

Posted by in Clothing, Events

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Looking East from Fort Lee Historic Park

The cold on the Palisades was not as bitter this past weekend as it was last year; there must have been at least an 8 degree (F) difference. There was a rumour of 37F/2C but I think it was about 45-50F (7-10C). Where there was sun, it was quite pleasant, as the wind was gentle.

So what did we wear? Mr S and the Young Mr had long underwear under their uniforms (white so it would not show under the overalls), and long stockings, too; the Young Mr has a wool waistcoat, and is still so wiggly that I don’t know how much he feels the cold yet.

Layers are your friend

I wore my 1780s wool jacket, two linen petticoats and a wool petticoat, my still-unfaced cloak, and wool stockings, and was comfortable enough at nooning to take off my cloak. It’s a long cloak, based on one in the collection at work, but blue broadcloth and not drab (the extant cloak is drab, but both drab or dun and blue appear in RI runaway ads).

So what’s the key to keeping warm? Then, as now, (or now dressing as then) it does seem to be layers. The wool petticoat makes an effective barrier against cold, and the wool jacket is warm. I tried patterning mitts, but my hands are so large relative to my wrists that I tore the muslins at the thumb or had very baggy wrists.

These chintz mitts from the Met (C.I.39.13.185a–d) seem to have a similar tendency to width at the wrist, and might work better than the pair I was following from Costume Close Up. It was late and I was tired, so a fresh start might work to keep my hands warm.

Post-war women with long sleeves would have been able to avoid that chill wind on the forearms, and I look forward to wearing my new long-sleeved wool dress.

My House Stinks

22 Monday Oct 2012

Posted by in Events, Reenacting

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I said to the B&G guy at work, “My house smells funny.”

He asked, “Funny good, or funny call the police?”

“Like black powder and wood smoke,” I said.

“Oh, call the police!” and we had a good laugh. Ed is a black powder hunter and camper, but not (yet) a reenactor.

We spent the weekend at the BAR event at the Nathan Hale Homestead in Coventry, CT, about 1.5 hours from Providence. It’s Route 6 all the way, twists and hills, lovely in the fall colors, but pokey.

I did get several apologies from the Captain of the Bail-Out British, so visited no mischief upon them. To be honest, I think they were into mischief enough themselves, judging by the aroma of the liquid in their mugs.

Saturday started foggy and party cloudy in Rhode Island, mist hanging over the reservoir in Scituate, framed by gold and red leaves. It was warmer and clearer in Connecticut, and lucky me, Sew 18th Century was there, too! She was cooking in the house, and I was in camp.

On Sunday, the Young Mr came out, too. Through machinations on Saturday, he was convinced to drum on Sunday, though he has been much afraid to since Fort Lee last year, and the SOI. He did just fine for a novice musician, and perhaps most importantly, learned he was wanted, needed, and would not die if he drummed in public.

And yes, I wore another gown.The fit, or perhaps the position of my stays, or both, need tweaking. I lay awake early this morning obsessing about the fit and whether i would need to move the sleeves, and should I undo it all now, and how all my fitted patterns were wrong, when I realized I had gone down the dangerous road of Dressmaking Doom.

I will lace up again, and try the gown again, at least once, before officially freaking out. Does this mean I need to put a wool gown on hold? Perhaps. The better time investment might be in a second wool petticoat and a short cloak for greater maneuverability. Also, some long underwear for the boys who wear linen. There’s no way a regimental for any regiment is getting made by November…and now there will be more than one. Who says men aren’t into clothes? Mine are, as long as they’re complicated styles of several centuries ago.

More pictures on Flickr.