Tag Archives: Revolutionary War

Runaway! Ambitions

20 Thursday Sep 2012

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

, , , , ,

The Met, ca. 1774

Regular readers know I have a tendency to make things, especially clothing, especially for events. So another event–actually two: What Cheer Day! and Nathan Hale–approaches, and the question, as ever, is what to wear?

I like to start with the runaway ads for inspiration and documentation. The ads for Rhode Island runaway women can be limited, so I look in Boston and New London as well, and sometimes Philadelphia. My mother lives outside Philadelphia, and I know that trade connected Providence and Philadelphia in the 18th century, in particular through the mercantile house of Brown and Francis.

Of course, I do also have a fabric problem not unlike my bonnet problem. I buy fabric, and stash it. Most sewers do, and after regretting a pair of very-marked-down red leather Andrea Pfister pumps I did not buy at Marshall Field’s one winter, if I like something, I buy it. It is often red, viz:

I know what merchants were selling in Rhode Island, and as early as 1768, Samuel Young in Providence at the Sign of the Black Boy, is selling “Chints, calicoes, and patches of all figures and prices.”

When I found the ad for the runaway wearing the red and black chintz gown, I knew I wanted to make that gown.

“Run away, on the 30th of last March, from the subscriber in Fourth street, near the Post office, an apprentice girl, named Anne Carrowle came from London with Captain William Keais, in the year 1769, she has a fresh complexion, brown hair, near sighted, left handed, round shouldered, and about 16 years of age; had on, when she went away, a green silk bonnet, an India red and black and white calicoe long gown, a blue halfthicks, and striped lincey petticoat, a white apron, and new leather shoes; she has been seen trolling on the Lancaster and Gulf roads, on pretence of going to service at Esquire Moor, and the Bull Tavern, and then at Carlisle….” [Pennsylvania Gazette, 27 April, 1774]

To add to the fun, I know Lancaster and Gulph, and this could be close to where my mother lives now. Too bad I am so far from 16.

Moving on…Here’s the dilemma: front closing or not? Open robe or round gown? The last one seems easier, as the petticoat is described, and thus probably showing, so an open robe. But the bodice, what about that? Stomacher front or closed?

There is a gown in the National Trust dated ca. 1770 with a closed front. And there is a gown with a missing stomacher in the National Trust dated ca. 1770. There are many gowns in the Snowshill Collection with closed fronts, but what is documented to New England? Before 1773, it seems, only stomacher front en fourreau gowns.

PMA, ca. 1775-1780s

I think the answer is that the runaway in 1774 is not wearing the height of fashion–though at 16, she will trend as new as possible, and could be wearing a closed front gown. For me, as a middling to lower sort, I think the best choices will be a stomacher front gown with robings. I have a bodice block for a front-closing gown, know the fit works, and have a back a like and a sleeve I can live with. So on to a muslin for the stomacher front, I think. The center front closings of the striped cotton gown in Philadelphia are probably too modern for what I’m doing, and for my age.

Really, it should be brown linen. Sober. Mature. Not running away. But what are costuming and living history, if not a kind of running away?

A bit shirty about shirts

15 Wednesday Aug 2012

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things

≈ Comments Off on A bit shirty about shirts

Tags

, , , , ,

Fantastic seams around that gusset,seams I can really only dream of. (click for larger view)

I’m trying to be a finer seamstress, but I can tell when I’m tired and the seams wobble and the stitches get larger. Of course, I can’t always tell when I’m running on pure will power alone, so I don’t see the wobbles until the next morning.  That’s when I feel a bit shirty about how tired working can make me, since I would rather be sewing!

Mr S needs a new shirt; the one I made last year is holding up well for him but it is a small blue and white check. The check is the most common pattern in the Connecticut River valley so I’m confident in its authenticity for the period…despite murmurings about the size of the checks…but it is a “shirt from home,” compared to other shirts. Check shirts are documented to the Rhode Island Regiment in the inventory of clothes of a soldier killed at Fort Mercer in 1777. But by the later years, that shirt would have worn out, so another seems in order. I chose linen that is too heavy for a fine shirt, and probably too heavy for a not-fine shirt, but it was cut and assembly begun before the shift linen arrived on Saturday. So onward we go, and with pressing and washing, perhaps it will be OK. The placket and side slits are sewn, the neck gussets attached, and one shoulder strap. It is slow work, but a train trip next week might get it finished.

The Young Mr’s shirt, of the same check fabric and construction, has been mended twice in the  past year. He has not outgrown it, thanks to the volume of 18th century shirts, and while he has evidenced all the activity of a slug at events, he still managed to undo seams and essentially deconstruct a shirt in one day. It is a gift, I am sure.

Camp Cooking

08 Wednesday Aug 2012

Posted by in Events, Food, Reenacting

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , ,

Our first overnight, camping-in reenactment went fairly well. Why the artillerists had to bring a concertina to a gunfight, I’ll never know, but a 2:36 AM rendition of “Good Night Ladies” was truly unnecessary.

The most important thing I can emphasize about reenacting in high summer is to stay hydrated. We brought the big white water pitcher we used at the House Cleaning in April, sliced a lime into it, and filled it repeatedly at the town pump. The Young Mr doesn’t like lime in his water, so he filled the coffee pot for himself, but the rest of our Regiment and members of the 10th Mass helped themselves liberally. It was well worth bringing.

The meals we ate were simple: apples, bread, ham and cheese for breakfast and lunch (I forgot to bring the eggs…) and beef stew for dinner. The stew is the most interesting part of the business. Mr S bought the meat, and without even realizing it, he picked up the appropriate amount of rations. Men were supposed to be issued a pound of beef and a pound of flour or bread a day; women, half that, and children a quarter. The amount we packed was a pound and three quarters. Seemed like too much when I packed it into the cooler, but as it turned out, we ate it all.

Enhanced Ration Stew (feeds 3 to 4)

  • 1.75 pounds beef stew meat
  • 3 carrots, sliced
  • 1 very large onion, roughly chopped
  • 4-5 small, firm, potatoes, cubed
  • Half a small kettle of water
  • 2 packets or cubes of portable soup (beef boullion)

Note: start the fire and get it hot before you bring the meat out…

Cut the meat into smaller chunks, add to the kettle, and place over the fire. Brown the meat on all sides; note that this will take as long as it takes.

When the meat is browned, add the onions and cook until they start to get soft. Add the rest of the ingredients, stir, and cover.

Bring to a rolling boil for at least twenty minutes; stir occasionally. Be sure to add wood to the fire to keep it hot. I think we cooked our stew for about 2.5 hours, but it’s hard to say exactly, as we were not wearing timepieces. We started the fire after the battle, which would have been at about 3:30 or 4:00, and ate around 6:30.

I used my pocketknife to slice the vegetables first, and arranged them in our wooden bowls. Then I sliced the beef into smaller chunks, using a piece of firewood as a cutting surface—since it gets burned, you don’t have to wash anything but the knife in hot water. Thanks to the 40th Foot at the SOI for demonstrating that technique.

Sturbridge Lessons

07 Tuesday Aug 2012

Posted by in Clothing, Events, Reenacting

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, ,

20120807-054104.jpgThe game warden is coming for my shift.

It has the most distinctive odor, and my friends at work should thank me in advance for not bringing it in. Wood smoke, sweat, rain, black powder and something else I cannot place all infuse the fabric, and it will be a shame to wash it, except that it is, truly, gamey enough to suggest I need a license to keep it. So, the lesson learned from this, and other observations:

Make another shift. Make another two shifts, even. You will want a dry one to sleep in, or to put on in the morning. I didn’t get rained on until 4:00 PM on Sunday. No, I soaked every layer of my clothing with sweat. Make another shift, stat!

Make a bedgown. In trying to maintain maximum 18th century effect, the stay-less parade to the flush toilet necessitated short gown over shift. My short gown is pleated to be worn over stays. Ahem. Make a bed gown, now I truly get their purpose, and as soon as I clean up the house, that’s what is going on my sewing table.

Line your stays. I was too lazy or busy or finger-chewed to finish installing the lining in my stays. Now they’ve gotten soaked through, I have a sweat line on my stomacher. Gross, isn’t it? Authentic, but….Line your stays. Just do it.

Make more than one cap. I have three, and was so glad to have a dry one for Sunday. Saturday’s cap now has sweat stains.

A Box in a (not quite) Day

27 Friday Jul 2012

Posted by in Making Things, Reenacting

≈ Comments Off on A Box in a (not quite) Day

Tags

, , ,

Since I made a new knapsack based on the example in the Fort Ticonderoga collection (see also Henry Cooke’s work, or The Packet III, page 28), I had paint. When you have paint, you want to put it on something. I put mine on a box.

Ikea had ‘Kartotek’ birch ply boxes one year, and the Young Mr was using some as treasure chests in his room, but now that he’s growing up a bit, he was willing to have one remodeled. The lines were pretty basic and the construction simple enough that I thought we could do a kind of recon on this box. (Recon is Library Lingo for “retrospective conversion.”)

First, I took it apart and sanded it. Don’t forget to cover work surfaces and expect to sweep/tack cloth up dust from both the box and everything around the box. Mr. S helped me out by drilling out the riveted handles, and re-drilling holes large enough to take the rope we had. It smells like hemp, but I have no idea where it came from–perhaps a Christmas tree excursion.

All good so far, sanded, drilled, and ready to take the paint. I thought one coat would be enough, since I had the red stain underneath, and wear and tear make things look better, so, fantastic! Time to put it together.

Hold on there, pilgrim. I looked at the screws. They were Phillips head, and not really brass. That’s not right! I’ve crawled under enough old tables to know that screws are flat, slot-head, and made of brass in this time period. With the rise of the screw gun/cordless drill, this kind of screw is no longer easy to find. They’re all Phillips at the big box hardware stores, and our little speciality store recently downsized and rearranged.

Was I really screwed? No, thanks to the interwebs. Slot-head brass screws are still used in marine applications, so I was able to order a bag from Amazon–the local chandlers seem to have given way to WestMarine, and they seemed only to have stainless steel screws.

The package came on Wednesday, I got out the screw driver, and after what totals up to a day’s work, we have a box for the Young Mr S to stash his stuff in when in camp. I expect the box to soon contain one book about dragons, several sticks and rocks, a tangle of fishing line, an empty candy wrapper, and an apple core. Also, homework that counts towards his grade.