Tag Archives: Revolutionary War

The Wind From the Hudson

20 Tuesday Nov 2012

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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.

Fort Lee Surrealism

19 Monday Nov 2012

Posted by in Events, Reenacting

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Surreal: that was the word for the morning at Monument Park. The RI Reg’t walked over the park instead of parading with the troops, because one of our members has not been well, and did not think he could keep up with the parade. It was odd to follow the reenactors in 18th century clothing under power lines and past high rise apartment buildings shouldering out old frame homes, but the surrealism really kicked in at the park.

Describing sniper fire in WWII to salsa music

There it became multi-sensory when the ceremony’s organizers turned on the music. It wasn’t exactly merengue, and it wasn’t exactly salsa…then the soundtrack switched to updated Big Band hits and finally landed on a strange, over-the-top, quasi-operatic version of “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

So when you look at the photos on flickr, play some salsa or an album you might have ordered at 2 AM from a TV ad, and think about standing in 40F/4C weather eavesdropping on politicians talking about inching closer to universal health, and the lessons of Hurricane Sandy for high-rise dwellers, while squeezing up next to you for a photo op.

Later, at Fort Lee Historic Park, the artillery demonstration was loud and satisfying, but we got behind schedule and to the oddness of the morning was added rushing. It was capped off at the end by the order to fix bayonets, which led to bayonets being caught in branches.

Bayonets fixed, Capt. Becker takes measure of the trees

Finally, for me, the day nearly foundered when I pulled my phone out of pocket at the end of the event to check the time, and saw my boss had been texting me all afternoon over a non-crisis. Part of why I love re-enacting and living history so much is that it takes me so far away from myself and from my daily existence. It’s related (slightly) to my work, but to be so far away in place and time and effort is a delight. I can’t just throw the phone away or not take it along: I am supposed to be on call, all the time…but it’s history, not a hospital, and if budgets change, so should expectations.

My House Stinks

22 Monday Oct 2012

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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.

On Baskets, and Authenticity

17 Wednesday Oct 2012

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I have been thinking a great deal about Surprise Number 4, issues of authenticity in reenacting, and what is really important. As tempting as it would be to post an image of Surprise Number 4, I remember how ticked I was at the comments about an image of someone’s unkempt tent at Fort Frederick, so I can’t. It would be wrong. I may have missed the Dalai Lama today (HVAC will be my undoing, I think) but I didn’t miss the point about “doing unto others.”

So instead of philosophizing, have some photos.

The large one actually captures the entire Kitty Calash family, from Mr S at the right of the rank of soldiers to the Young Mr, in close proximity: a rare sighting indeed. Mr S’s calves stand out nicely in his new overalls, if I say so myself. Two more buttonholes, two more buttons, two more straps and those suckers are done. He did a good job, too, getting them dirty before Nathan Hale.

Yes, that’s my attempt at the “Ale House Door” jacket.  The fit is OK, the style a little late for RevWar, but it’s what I have in wool for now, made from a Wm Booth Draper remnant, and that’s the first wearing of the Sharon Burnston apron.

Sew 18th Century has a nice post on baskets, and where to get them, but wondered about the documentation of the market basket. What I can find is 1732, Plate 1 of Hogarth’s series, The Harlots’ Progress, based on Moll Flanders.


Would these have been out of use by 1770? Hard to say—I think I may have seen this form in catchpenny prints, but I have only a print source for those and it’s buried in one of the many stacks of books at home.

Still, I love my newly-arrived basket, ordered from Jeanne Beatrice for $24.

And there I am running away. Coventry, Connecticut, here I come!

History Dress-Tease

06 Saturday Oct 2012

Posted by in Clothing, Events, Making Things, Museums

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What Cheer! Day is a week away, and exactly a week from now, at 6:30 AM, I will get into my B&G guy’s truck and head into the site. We’ll measure and tape out camp sites, fire pit sites, and safety lines, bring wood and gear out from the woodshed and basement. We’ll put out the handicapped parking only sign in the parking lot, drop the orange cones (I love the thick flexible plastic of a traffic cone), and drink some coffee. I haven’t decided at what point I’ll start to fret in earnest that day, but the trick to not fretting will probably be to get dressed in 18th century clothes as soon as we are done carrying items upstairs, because then I will have to take off my watch. Watches lead to fretting: there’s administrator time, and re-enactor time, which is more like artists’ time. Better to take off the watch and get closer to the past.

Half-pleated skirt, sleeves in progress

At the School of Instruction, I thought the “People of the Brigade” program worked well; at OSV, I really appreciated  the Military Fashion Show (I did not make it to Runaway Runway). Using these models, and knowing about the School of Instruction’s Women’s Dress program, I thought we’d combine these ideas. I don’t have a good name for the program yet, but the reason I’m going so nuts about the dress from 1774 is that I plan a “History Dress-Tease:” starting in shift, stays, stockings and shoes, I’ll demonstrate all the layers my runaway wore: 2 petticoats, pockets, dress, stomacher, apron, cap, bonnet.

Any soldiers I can convince to get down to small clothes and layer up with waistcoat, coat or frock, canteen, cartridge box, bayonet scabbard, haversack, knapsack, hat and musket, will demonstrate the gear they carried. I thought about a weigh-in, to record how much it all weighs, but my scale is a pathological liar, and varies by 4 pounds from one side of the room to another.

All this work has an educational, and not merely sartorial, purpose. Now, if only the public will come…