Civil War and Uncivilized War

The Hunting Party- New Jersey. oil on canvas ca 1750. MMA 1979.299
The Hunting Party- New Jersey. oil on canvas ca 1750. MMA 1979.299

Slightly turbulent and busy days chez Calash have resulted in a lack of postings, but work proceeds: Genesee and then New Jersey lie ahead, with some extra-interesting interpretation at Monmouth in late June. For a time, I despaired of figuring out what to do to occupy the time and interpret what was essentially a civil war in Monmouth County. The Craig House, while interesting, is no longer a working farm, so we couldn’t farm a not-farm. Then there’s the tedious issue of the not-home not-farming Craigs: on the day of the battle, John Craig is with the Continental Army and Ann Craig has taken off with wagons of chattel, two slaves, and her child. This began to seem a lot like interpreting the John Brown House without John Brown: they are more present by their absence.

Full Sail off Sandy Hook- Entrance to New York Harbor. watercolor and gouache by Pavel Petrovich Svinin, MMA 42.95.2
Full Sail off Sandy Hook- Entrance to New York Harbor. watercolor and gouache by Pavel Petrovich Svinin, MMA 42.95.2

What to do? Read more, of course, and talk and talk and talk with Drunk Tailor, who discovered the Association for Retaliation (yes, exactly what it sounds like: vigilanteism) and the Pine Robbers. Much satisfaction there, and finally I listened when he said, “Why can’t we all be refugees?”

Sometimes, you just have to give in to reality. The “London trade” flourished between New York and New Jersey, Sandy Hook providing ready access to the city and Staten Island, where so many Loyalists fled the radical Whigs of New Jersey. Male slaves ran away to join the British army, and the most fearsome and feared in New Jersey was Colonel Tye. The Retaliators promised “a man for a man” for every depredation Whigs suffered, while a similarly-chartered Loyalist association promised the same in return. Chaos reigned and people of all kinds fled the civil war and the uncivilized war. It promises to be an interesting weekend.

Bloody, Bratty, Boning

File_000Sometimes I am a terrible brat, as in this past weekend, when the autocorrect on my phone insisted that the proud four-letter Anglo-Saxon words I was typing were not what I meant to say. Darn tootin’ they were.

This is not my first rodeo with stays, but somehow I’d forgotten about the special stabby hell of boning the beasts. I’m machine sewing the channels for these, mostly because I calculated the time required to completely hand-sew them and realized I would not finish them before I needed them. I’ve rationalized this by acknowledging that I’m not using the hand-woven brown wool sateen I covet, but instead a dark blue wool twill.

I know, I know: there’s a reason staymaking was a man’s trade. My hands are pretty strong, but it took some doing to figure out how to slide the pieces in neatly without jabbing the ends repeatedly into the freshly re-opened split on my thumb.

d'oh! surgical tape made this *much* better later.
d’oh! surgical tape made this *much* better later.

It takes discipline to keep doing this, the way it takes some discipline not to eat ice cream for breakfast just because you can (though I did, just this week). Spencers and dresses are so tempting, but there’s not point to making a new dress of wonder unless I have the stays to wear it over: infrastructure is required.

The stomacher and the two front pieces are boned… six more pieces plus whipping and eyelets and binding, oh, my! It’ll be a race to have them done by June 24th:  Discipline’s the thing.

What’s it Worth Wednesday

Or, They’re Clothes, not Costumes.

This past weekend, I had a conversation with a friend about requests to borrow “costumes” we’ve made, sometimes for school children to wear, sometimes for movies, and sometimes for parties. We generally say no: these are hand-sewn clothes, and the replacement cost would be ridiculous– plus, we like them and wear them.

I hand sew because I get better control, but also because there were no sewing machines in the 18th and early 19th centuries. To get a garment right, you have to hand sew it, and that’s expensive. I took the time once to figure out what a set of clothes for the Young Giant cost– much to my dismay, and eventually, to his, as I became even more insistent that the garments be treated with respect.

IMG_3389

Last year, I sent the Young Mr off to Battle Road in a new suit, and the whole business of what he was wearing was quite expensive. Using $25/hour as a base for labor, here’s how the kid’s Battle Road suit breaks down:

Coat Labor: $1125 (estimated)
Coat fabric: $62.50
Buttons: $10.50
Coat lining & cutting: $90.00
Workshop: $125.00
Total: $1413

Let that one sink in for a while, will you? The 16-year-old boy ran around in a $1400 coat. Oh, and the breeches. Here they are.

Breeches labor: $300 (estimated)
Breeches fabric: $31.25
Buttons: $9.00
Total: $340.25

The blue suit is now up to $1753.25

Let’s add the shirt.

Labor:  $375.00 (estimated)
Fabric: $30.00
Buttons: $3.00
Total: $408

Shoes, hat and stockings:

Shoes: $119
Hat: $125
Stockings: $50
Neckcloth: $18
Glasses: $29.00
Lenses: $30.00
Total Accessories: $371

Grand total, with labor: $2532.25
Grand total without labor: $732.25

This wasn't cheap either.
This wasn’t cheap either.

So think about this the next time you attend an event with a lot of well-made garments: you are standing amid a lot of labor and love.

Sewing is a fairly simple enterprise (you’re pushing thread in and out of fabric, after all), but it takes practice to develop fine skills and speed. A well-made garment will never be cheap. The best investment you can make in your wardrobe is to invest in your skill set, and learn to sew.

Fine Art Friday

Sketching a Cottage, Sept 29, 1816. Watercolor by Diana Sperling
Sketching a Cottage, Sept 29, 1816. Watercolor by Diana Sperling

In a mere four weeks, I will pack the Subaru and head west into New York State as so many Rhode Islanders have before me. And while I will have clothes suitable for the time of the RI Quaker Migration, I will be leaving not to found a more utopian society nor to seek my fortune on a farm. Instead, I’ll be joining some dear friends for a weekend sketching party (minus the horse and carriage).

This new enterprise has required some additional research, and while I look forward to painting miniatures at some point this summer, I suspect this venture will be a simpler proposition. A new dress and apron are the least of my worries: brushes, watercolor boxes, sketchbooks, pencils and pens all require research just when I should be thinking more seriously about the way the Revolution played out as a civil war in New Jersey.

Anne Rushout, ca. 1768–1849, British, 3 sketchbooks of 82 drawings by Anne Rushout (B1977.14.9506-9587), 1824 to 1832, Watercolor on moderately thick, slightly textured, cream wove paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection
Anne Rushout, ca. 1768–1849, British, 3 sketchbooks of 82 drawings by Anne Rushout (B1977.14.9506-9587), 1824 to 1832, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

Still, the Yale Center for British Art has rarely failed me: a simple search for sketchbook turned up a catalog record for three sketchbooks of 82 drawings by Anne Rushout. These are lovely, well-executed landscapes in a fine British tradition, far more sophisticated than Diana Sperling or Sophie DuPont– I fear I will closer to Sperling and DuPont when I take up sketching again, and can at least console myself that my wonky drawings will be part of a fine tradition of ladies’ accomplishments.

Man and cat, 2004
Man and cat, 2004

The Yale Center for British Art also has a nice Romney sketchbook for Paradise Lost, which demonstrates the cartoon-like nature of preliminary drawings (and I mean cartoon in the old sense, not the Animaniacs sense, though the uses are related). And as I sew my dress of unmatched checks, I have art programming to entertain me: Fake or Fortune, thanks to a tip from Ms B, has provided happy, envious hours of conservation labs, artists’ colourmen, and auction rooms. Vicarious delight, indeed.