Just Keep Stitching

It is going to take a long time to finish, and longer because I’m doing it alone, have little room for the frame in our apartment, and have a family to sew garments for. But if I just keep stitching, it will get done.

The photo is from Sunday at Coggeshall Farm, and gives an idea of the set up. The frame worked well, though the pegs did fall out in the drier weather. No wobbles, though. It’s a little tricky to stitch from different angles and to maneuver around, but I’m accustomed to lap quilting even large pieces. This needs a frame, so I’ll just adapt.

The sandwich is comprised of a linen backing, wool batting, and a plain-weave silk and wool top. I’m quilting with some silk twist from Wm Booth Draper that matches pretty well. This is a compromise, given that I can no longer buy tabby and calamanco, or fine plain weave wool. The wool (calamanco/tabby) originals in the RIHS Collection are lined with wool, not linen (the silk petticoat that belonged to the Browns is lined in a fine white linen plain weave), but I could not find materials that satisfied my requirements for weave, sheen, color or fibre. The compromises I made I will have to live with—one hopes without recriminations—but they are balanced by the panels I stitched at about 13 to 13.5 inch intervals to match the dimensions of the originals. I’ve also laid the petticoat out in the same proportions as the originals.

Now all I have to do is keep stitching…

The Public: Not Quite the Enemy

Ah, the public. We’re not really much without them—we need an audience, don’t we? Living history practitioners/costumed interpreters/re-enactors are all looking for an audience. We like to tell people about the past, so we need the public. Sometimes, though, the public is a trifle confounding.

In one weekend, I heard or heard about the following questions or comments:

Are you Jane Austen? (This from a 10-year-old girl in a grocery store, so it’s actually score one to the girl for knowing Jane and getting the dress period right, and one to Dana, who answered with grace.)

Look, it’s the Pilgrims!

Gosh they must have been hot back then. I guess they had to adapt, but they must have been awfully hot, even if they didn’t know any better.

Why is it like it used to be in here? (My favorite!)

Did children chase chickens back then?

What are you chopping all that wood for?

Oh, look, the fire’s on!

I thought you’d all look pretty like the ladies on British TV. [i]

There was also a group that trouped in and just stared. Stared. Hard. I couldn’t manage to say anything, though Vicky and Johanna did an excellent job explaining what we were doing. By the time it was my turn, they’d stared in silence for several long minutes and it was just too weird to say anything.

So, what to do? Not much, I think, but to join and support your local history organization to encourage history education for all. And for those of us on the receiving end? Take a break, eat a snack, stay fresh, and park the snark. Wait until the tour has left the building to react.

I had only one not-great experience. A child came behind my quilting frame, popped on my bonnet, and left the room while I asked several times, “May I have my bonnet back, please?” Her mother turned to me and said, “We thought this was interactive!” Well, yes, but that is my personal bonnet. So the lesson for me is hide my bonnet better, and for the public? It never hurts to ask if you can try on the item sitting next to the interpreter, or to touch the things they’re clearly working with. And never touch an interpreter or re-enactor unless invited to. Yes, it has happened.

Manners transcend centuries: please and thank you always work.


[i] This is similar to what a guide at work said the first time I did a program in period dress, wearing a linen gown. “I guess they were more comely at Colonial Williamsburg than in New England.” I am not a fancy lady. But not comely? Well, maybe I’m built for speed.

Mourning Embroideries

As a rule, I dislike samplers. Sacrilege, I know, but the rows of letters and numbers and tidy stitches seem to me like running in place, instead of running to get somewhere.

But I do like pictorial embroideries, and on this day, posting about a frothy bonnet in a painting in a Sotheby’s catalog seemed…well, too trivial. So instead, here’s a fantastic mourning picture from the Met. By Charlotte Brown, of Rhode Island, it memorializes Salome Brown and her husband Moses Brown, though not the Moses Brown.

Just because I’m not a fan doesn’t mean I don’t recognize types. In a google image search, I found this item, and knew immediately it was Rhode Island. Made in 1808, it lives at RISD, and a textile designer has done wonderful things based on it. Both RISD’s and the Met’s have the weeping woman, the weeping willow, the urn/cenotaph feature, the pastoral landscape.

But wait…the provenance of the Met’s picture is minimal: “Once property of the late Florence Maine, antiques dealer of Ridgefield and Wilton Connecticut. (Advertisement of embroidery in August 1953 Antiques magazine.)” So I started searching for Moses Brown and Salome Brown in the Rhode Island Historical Cemeteries Database, and I came up empty.

Yes, there are Moses Browns. There is no Salome Brown. But I can’t find a Moses with these dates. That doesn’t mean he didn’t exist, or that this isn’t a Rhode Island sampler; not every cemetery has been transcribed and not every headstone survived.  There is one Charlotte Brown with a date worth considering, and she is the daughter of Thomas and Rebecca Brown, and would have been 7 when this was made. Not impossible, but I’m not fully sold yet. I now have more questions about the one at the Met, and about the people memorialized. Those questions may well be answered in an accession file at the Met, but sitting on the public side of the catalog record, I have questions that only research can answer, and that I hope will one day be done as part of the Sampler Archive Project. 

For now, I think I’ll enjoy a sense of visual literacy in Rhode Island imagery, the lasting beauty of these memorials, and let it go at that.

Framing a Plan

cross-posted from A Lively Experiment, all images copyright RIHS.

This coming weekend, I’ll be joining in at the Coggeshall Farm Harvest Fair, along with my co-worker who helped clean the museum 18th-century style. She will be helping with cleaning and laundry and ironing (must remember to pack the lavender and vinegar solution), while I will tackle a quilted petticoat.

At first glance you might think I’ll have the easier weekend, and in some ways, I will, sitting in a parlor with a quilting frame. On the other hand, I booked myself a weekend with worries that have pestered me since we were invited in mid-August. Is the fabric I’ve chosen going to work? Do I know enough about the quilted petticoats in the RIHS collections? What kind of quilting frame is correct? And where did I stash the batting?

Research is always the place to start. I compiled a Pinterest board of quilted petticoats  in other collections to build my visual literacy, and tracked down articles by Lynne Zacek Bassett in PieceWork[i] and in the  Textiles in New England  II: Dublin Seminar for New England Folklife Proceedings[ii].  From the Textiles in New England proceedings, I learned that September is the second-most common month for quilting mentions in diaries for the late 18th and early 19th century in New England (May is the most often mentioned, Octobe is third). This was a relief as I wondered if quilting in September was even appropriate. With that resolved, I was able to move on to aesthetics.

New England and Rhode Island quilted petticoats share some general characteristics: the overall skirt is quilted in a diamond or diaper grid of about 1” square. Below this is a decorative band or border, usually about 12” deep. The top of this is set off from the grid by a cyma curve or wave pattern. Some examples use an undulating feather border, and others have a stylized arc and clam shell border.  The background of the border is stitched in diagonal lines. Sometimes the direction is set from center front, and lines radiate to the left and right, and in other cases the lines radiate to left and right from the center line of each arced segment.

Within the border, floral and animal motifs are quilted. Animals seem prevalent in New England quilts—there is even a mermaid in Connecticut—but none of our quilts have a mermaid. We have sunflowers, pomegranates, and carnations similar in form to the stylized flowers that appear in samplers and embroideries of this time period. Animals include deer, lions, squirrels and a creature that looks like an oryx but may be an elk. Birds are represented as well, peacocks and stylized songbirds as well as an owl, and even what seem to be roosters.

I drew these conclusions not only from reading, but from examining two quilted petticoats in the RIHS Collection, the lighter one made ca. 1745 by Alice Tripp [Casey], accession number 1985.7.1, and the darker one made in 1770 by Anna Waterman [Clapp], accession number 1982.76.3. In the catalog record, the images for 1985.7.1 are incorrect–they are for 1982.76.2, and the confusion testament to cataloging and linking records in a building several blocks from where the petticoats are stored. Now, at least, we can work on correctly them.

The quilted petticoat that I plan to make will use the typical Rhode Island elements. The top portion will be quilted with an overall diamond pattern, while a feather border will set off the bottom band. Within that, I will quilt squirrels, chickens, and probably an owl and a cat, because they are favorite creatures in my household. I’ll also quilt in my initials, just as Anna Waterman did in her quilt.

You can join us at Coggeshall Farm Museum this weekend, September 15 & 16, starting at 10 each day, and see RIHS staff members in action! We think it will be a good warm up for What Cheer! Day, coming to the RIHS on Saturday, October 13.


[i] “Sarah Halsey’s Mermaid Petticoat.” PieceWork. January/February 2003

[ii] ‘..a dull business alone’: Cooperative Quilting in New England, 1750-1850.” Textiles in New England II: Four Centuries of Material Life, The Dublin Seminar for New England Folklife Annual Proceedings 1999. Boston University Press, 2001.