Maintain an Even Strain

On April 27, 2016April 27, 2016 By kittycalashIn Art Rant, Events, History, Living History, personal5 Comments

Dude: I am conflicted. There are folks out there doing excellent work, but after reading some recent posts around the interwebs, I kept thinking, “Stockholm Syndrome much?”

I’m as much of a narcissist as the next person, and I think I recognize some of the folks being called out in various places for being critical of women’s roles in living history events. So, organize my own events? Come up with my own things to do?

Cool: challenge accepted.

I am, in fact, throwing down for the pleasure and pain of running a farm in late June. No, I didn’t organize it, but I was asked to take on a challenge and I have accepted, roping my favorite tailor into the effort as well. It’ll mean a bunch of studying, but in a pinch, I can always clean the house. We can rake, make refugees stay in the yard, and try as hard as we can to keep Quakers from putting radical ideas in the slaves’ heads. I think it will be hard, unpleasant, and uncomfortable—and that’s what I don’t like about the suggestions in the otherwise honestly well-intended and meant-to-inspire posts.

Playing at Quadrille. Oil on canvas by Francis Hayman. Birmingham Museums and Art Gallery

They’re so nice. They reinforce women’s subordinate roles in the past and present. Children’s activities? I might die, really, I might. If that’s your bag, go for it, please! We need it. It’s simply not something I can do.

No more can I talk about What People Wore. It’s not that I don’t care (y’all know I do) but that I want to move past the surface.

It’s not enough just to look great.

The Heir: Tom Finds New Wealth. William Hogarth.

Dive deep: find the dirt. Find the hard stuff. You don’t have to be nice. That’s my personal problem with what I’ve been reading: between the lines I keep hearing a voice suggesting that we be nice girls, that we simmer down. No, I’m sorry. I can’t. Reader, if you can, go for it.

But if you can’t, I want to tell you: Keep pushing. Keep asking. Keep speaking up. Challenge the status quo. Our Girl History did a great post on Well Behaved Women, and I fully support the work people are doing to represent the Well Behaved and the marginalized (shout out to the veteran with the knife-grinding cart: well imagined, sir!).

Russell, John; The Blind Beggar and His Granddaughter; The Bowes Museum; — John Russell. The Blind Beggar and His Granddaughter, oil on canvas, 18th century. The Bowes Museum UK.

Bring it. Bring the ordinary.

But if you can’t be ordinary or run the children’s games or be subservient or show how women dressed, that’s okay. For the love of god, someone, be desperate.

Be hungry, be angry, be resentful, be religious.

Whatever you do, don’t be afraid to speak your mind.

Of Chamber Pots and Train Seats

On April 26, 2016April 25, 2016 By kittycalashIn Events, History, Living History, personal

Why yes: I was able to carry all my loot.

The Northeast Regional: Bane and delight of my existence, for while the night train at least allows you to sleep through the agony of an eight hour trip, and although the quiet car allows some solid time to for reading and writing, one’s seat mate can be unpredictable.

I am not a good seatmate. My legs are long, and I have a marked tendency to cry through several station stops (or states) when leaving someone I love. But the foolproof way to maintain seat independence is writing: reading over someone’s shoulder is rude enough that I feel little guilt in writing all the things I write about. On train 86, it was chamber pots.

Part of my southward trip was to the Market Fair at Fort Fred, where I was pleased to visit old and make new acquaintances in addition to shopping. Handkerchiefs: can you ever have enough? I think not, and was delighted to find one pretty much guaranteed to clash with any blue gown.

Thread is always useful, and I find it easier to purchase in the flesh, when I can get a better sense of gauge and color. I’d had a request for a period-appropriate notebook and a replacement pocket knife, and was delighted indeed to find one (I bought two) that will hurt less to lose.

But, reader, best of all was the pottery. I possess enough self restraint to know I cannot venture near the mocha ware, for I might take leave of all common sense and purchase more than I can carry on the train, fit in my already full cupboard, or reasonably afford. Still, there was a custom punch bowl to see, kindly ordered for me some months ago, and, by the same potter’s hand? A chamber pot.

Not for me the lighthouse coffee pot (though of course I covet one). No, sir: the blue floral decorated chamber pot caught my eye, and have it I must. So I do.

I realize I have a bit of an obsession, and that one might consider this an unholy interest, but the utility of the device is not lost upon me, having had occasion to use one. Whilst staying in a 1787 house that remains unplumbed, I woke one Sunday at 2:00AM to pouring rain outside, and the urgent call of nature inside. Privies don’t faze me, but I lacked adequate rain protection and a fireproof light source. Happily, I had discovered a chamber pot in the house when I poked around it, and was able to find it by candlelight.

Two hip replacements make some activities more challenging than others, hence my tip: put it on a chair. Your floor will thank you.

Providence, After Dark

On April 25, 2016 By kittycalashIn Events, History, Museums2 Comments

Yes, I like to burn my candle at both ends: let’s get that out of the way up front, as I admit that yes, I am recovering from strep throat contracted a mere week before the evening program, and that immediately after said program, I hopped on the night train to Virginia for a quick vacation.

I walked to the train station, and was struck by the contrast between the closeness of the house lit only by [LED] candlelight and the openness of a city incandescently bright. I’ve walked Providence streets at night for decades, and never appreciated street lights so well until I knew the city didn’t have oil street lights until 1820.*

The LED candles aren’t as bright as real candles, but they’re safer and come remote-equipped.** In the end, I ordered a total four dozen, forgot I’d ordered four dozen, and requested only six dozen AA batteries (each candle takes two), so spent the late afternoon scrounging power sources. With this many candles, we were able to put eight in the Waterford crystal chandelier in the formal parlor, and watch the light play upon the ceiling, even if the room wasn’t fully illuminated.

We kept the hallways and central stair lit for safety, and gave guests or groups of guests battery-powered candles to carry as they made their way through the house. (All sixty-plus spots on the two tour slots were fully booked.) Downstairs, each of the three docents from our study group interpreted a room: Mrs JF in the dining room, talking about dining and entertaining; Mrs MF in the formal parlor talking about sin, crime, and control; and Mrs AB in the informal parlor talking about novels, music, and family gatherings.

Upstairs, the Director of Education, Ms T, took over one bedroom where she talked about sex and I took another to talk about bedtime, bedding, bedbugs, vermin, chamber pots, and hygiene. Of all sixty-plus visitors, only one, a young man, asked about menstruation. Perhaps the rest were too overcome by the thought of Hannah Glasse’s bug bomb (ignite a pound of brimstone and a Indian pepper in a tightly closed room, exit quickly, and leave it for five to six hours) to ask more intimate questions.

It was a popular program, and I can imagine doing it again. It does make me wonder about a What Cheer Night, and what that could be like; how far can we push the ways we use a historic house and its contents, when it’s only one day a year?

*It took until 1822 to get a sidewalk committee to concern itself with smoothing the rough patches and straightening the paths; we could use a reconstitution of that committee, thank you.

**Yes, I believe the site manager feels like Dumbledore every time she uses the remote, though she is not yet saying “Nox” as she wields it.

After Dark: Bedtime for Kitty

On April 14, 2016 By kittycalashIn Events, History, Living History, Museums, Research6 Comments

Lewis Vaslet, 1742–1808, The Spoiled Child, Scene II, ca. 1802, Watercolor with black ink and gray wash over graphite on moderately thick, slightly textured, cream wove paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection. B1977.14.4342

In just about a week, we’re running a pilot program in the historic house where I work (tickets available here). After Dark, or What Cheer Night, are programs we’ve wanted to do for a couple of years, but all good things take time.

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I’ve ~~drawn the lot~~ chosen to talk about getting ready for bed and sleeping: lighting devices, bedding, washing, chamber pots* and what people wore to bed. While already in possession of candles and candlesticks, and the proud new owner of exhibition and interpretation grant-funded LED candles, there are things I needed to make. Of course.

Print made by Guillaume Philippe Benoist, 1725–ca. 1770, French, Pamela Swooning, after having discovered Mr. B. in the closet, He (frighted) endeavouring to recover her, Mrs. Jervis wringing her hands, and screaming, 1745, Etching with stipple engraving on medium, slightly textured, cream laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Yale Art Gallery Collection, Gift of the Library Associates.

A banyan, for one thing. And you know that will (one hopes) be followed in short order by a night cap. After all, you can’t talk about Pamela if you haven’t got a banyan and a cap in the house. That’s a simple and relatively fun project to tackle when brain capacity is somewhat limited: some piecing, straight seams, setting in facings and sleeve linings can all happen before I must assault the collar.

Piecing it together, as the eventual wearer is taller than available fabric.

Collars are devilishly tricky for me sometimes– oddly, a pad-stitched collar set onto a tailored jacket seems easier to me than a bedgown collar– but I suspect the eventual recipient will manage to enjoy the garment no matter what minor construction errors a tipsy milliner or half-seas over housemaid might make (not, of course, that I am either of those things).

It’s been a fascinating exercise in having a staff-and-docent study group that has taken a decidedly feminist bent (calling Our Girl History!) as we explore what happened in Providence After Dark. Brothel riots in 1782. Warnings by the Baptist Church not to visit the “theatre, circus, or Green Cottage” on pain of punishment. No, I do not yet know what or where the Green Cottage is, but the best researchers I know are working on it. Is this the 18th century answer to the Green Door? We can but hope.

Reading The Coquette? Thomson’s The Seasons? Come experience an 18th century house on a night when people will know what you’re talking about! Or you can watch that questionable housekeeper prepare a room for the night while she talks about sleep patterns and shares tips for 18th century pest control.

*Pro tip: put it on a chair. I fully expect to run an intimate workshop some evening called “Will Humiliate Self for History, or, Everything you ever wanted to know about the 18th century, but were too well brought up to ask.”

Kirsten Hammerstrom

Category: Events