Interpretation: I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, reducing it to basics. Beverly Serrel challenges exhibit designers to articulate the one Big Idea about their work; one sentence that describes what your exhibition is about. I’ve been thinking about the Big Ideas for some upcoming exhibitions and programs at work, and in my personal work.
Some seem easy: Slavery in Rhode Island: Everyone was involved, everyone is connected. Slavery is part of our shared past. We are all part of the web of complicity. (Pick one, they’re all related.)
For the house museum, and the living history day at the house museum, it’s a little more complicated. We tried an involved story line last year and it didn’t seem to matter to visitors who were mostly intrigued by watching pretty costumes in a pretty house.
Thomas Gainsborough, The Housemaid. 1782-86. Tate Museum, Presented by Rosalind, Countess of Carlisle 1913, N02928
What I’ve settled on for now is a crude variation of “it takes a village,” in that a complex web of food and support networks was necessary to sustain an elegant 18th century mansion. (Our theme this year is Rhode Island Seascape and Landscapes, AKA Surf & Turf.) I begin to imagine diagrams that support that theory: small holding farmers and dairymen and fishermen who sold supplies to the wealthy, the merchants importing goods, the sailors and captains and shipbuilders needed to bring the barrels of china, boxes of sweets and tea and nankeens back to Rhode Island to support the scenes of elegant perched at the very top of the social pyramid.
Then I come to my personal interpretation and Bridget Connor. What is that story about? A Bridget with a troubled past and nothing left to lose? Poor women struggled to survive in an unstable war economy? Or simply that not everyone in the Revolution was a hero?
William Dickinson, 1746-1823, The Relief, 1781, Stipple engraving and etching on moderately thick, slightly textured, beige laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection
Reading the Abbott orderly books takes some patience, even though they have been transcribed. As with so many 18th century texts, punctuation is unreliable and open to interpretation. Here’s an entry from July, 1782, on the subject of uniforms, guard duty and fatigue duty.
July 22 1782
The Greatest Care and aten
tion is to Be pade to the preservation of the Mens
Clothing and to keep the Cloth Clean.. As
the Guards are always to Be fill Dressed in
uniform they are not while on that Duty to be
put on Ferteeg or any kind of Meaniel service
but to appear Clean, tite Dressed and In a
Soldierly manner when any parties for
Ferteeg are Necesery they are not to be applied for
and Sent in there undress or Ferteeg Clothes
this order to be Strictly observed
Which seems in more sentence-like form to be:
The greatest care and attention is to be paid to the preservation of the men’s clothing and to keep the clothes clean. As the guards are always to be full dressed in uniform, they are not, while on this duty, to be put on fatigue or an kind of menial service, but to appear clean, tight dressed, and in a soldierly manner. When any parties for fatigue are necessary, they are not to be applied for, and sent in their undress or fatigue clothes. This order to be strictly observed.
Here’s what I think it means:
Pay attention to the men’s clothing and keep it clean.
Men assigned to guard duty are always to appear in full uniform. When on guard duty, these men are not to be assigned to fatigues or menial duties. They should instead always appear clean, neatly dressed, and solider-like. When fatigue parties are called, the guards are not to be assigned to that duty, so that they do not appear on guard in their fatigue or undress uniforms. This order is to be strictly obeyed.
For this challenge, I initially thought I’d be working on the compere fronts for a silk sacque, but then I took another look at the calendar and realized March was awfully close! Instead, I opted to spend the past week working to better understand the Quakers, especially Quakers in Rhode Island, in advance of a program in early March. (I did do #1, Make Do and Mend, but do you need to know about re-stitching a petticoat binding?)
‘Quaker’ bonnet
To help get myself out of a sewing rut and panic, and a general malaise, I made a bonnet. A ‘Quaker’ bonnet. Bonnets are like cupcakes: delicious, sugary, but lower in calories and committment than a full garment.
Quaker bonnet ca. 1800, Nantucket Historical Association, 1928.54.7
Quaker women in the late 18th and early 19th century did not, as far as I can tell, wear the black ‘sugar scoop’ bonnet we now associate with Quakers.
There are numerous entries in Amelia Gummere about bonnets, and types of bonnets, and the reflection of particular sects of Quakers in the pleating of the bonnet caul. But early in the 19th century, at the dawn of the Age of Bonnets, Quaker and non-Quaker styles seem to have been closer.
Fashion Plate: Promenade Dresses, 1801. Museum of London. 2002.139/1397#sthash.YsOpwKG2.dpuf
The fashion plate from the Museum of London presented a style that I thought I could approximate, and that made sense to me for 1800-1810ish, but I chose an olive green silk (actually yellow and black sort-of-changeable taffeta) because I have seen Quaker bonnets in olives and tans, especially earlier bonnets. Going with a color that was less distinctive, and a form that was undecorated, seemed to me to strike the best balance between plainness and style in this time period.
I chose this for innovation because the new bonnet forms of the early 19th century are departures from the full, round, pudding-on-the-head styles of the late 18th century, and the Quakers took it a bit further. In standardizing the appearance of their bonnets (simple, unadorned, eventually ossified in form and signaling sect in pleat patterns), the Quakers were innovators in clothing as outward symbol and sign of inner faith and affiliation.
There’s your rationalization, how about some facts?
The Challenge: HSF # 2,Innovation
Fabric: Sort-of-changeable black and yellow silk taffeta in olive green for the body and ribbons, white linen for the caul lining and brim interlining, white poly taffeta for the brim lining, and pasteboard for the brim.
Notions: Thread, PVA (acid-free white glue for book binding)
How historically accurate is it? Well, white poly taffeta aside, pretty accurate. All hand-stitched and assembled in a period method. Gentlewomen can disagree about accuracy of style, but we could call this a plain bonnet ca. 1803 and be safe. After March, I can decorate the bonnet. The poly will remain, so, well, 60%? (How many points from Gryffindor for using the right weave in the wrong fiber?)
Hours to complete: Five, perhaps? These are quick, so five would be from start to finish, not including agonizing in advance.
Mr S’s day took a bit of turn.
First worn: First by Mr S, who wasn’t feeling well, but to be carried along by me on March 7.
Total cost: All supplies came from the Strategic Fabric Reserve and chip board depot. It takes so little of anything to make a bonnet…maybe $2.50 in silk, $3.00 in linen, .50 in chipboard, so $6.00? (The silk came from the remnant table at $10/yard, chipboard is $2.00 a sheet, and linen about $12/yard.)
Mr & Mrs Thomas Sandby. Watercolor by Paul Sandby. RCIN 917875, Royal Collection Trust.
On Saturday, Sew 18th Century and I went out for lunch and fabric shopping. Along the way, I brought up pinner aprons, and that I’d seen them in British prints. She said, “You should blog about that!” and I went back to check my sources. Fail! There was an English print after a French original, and that doesn’t count!
So I shelved that idea, and went about looking for more Paul Sandby images of soldiers and maids and tents, and found instead Mr and Mrs Thomas Sandby. Ahem. Pinner apron alert.
Fluke, right? Well, no, not exactly.
Lady Chambers and child. Watercolor by Paul Sandby, RCIN 914409. Royal Collection Trust.
Because here is Lady Chambers and child, with Lady Chambers in a pinner apron.
The thing to note, though, is that “apron” here is a decorative, almost ceremonial garment made of black silk, while the maid engaged in Domestick Employment is wearing a working garment of [probably white] linen.
Domestick employment, washing. Mezzotint by Richard Houston after Phillipe Mercier, 1736-1775. British Museum 1876,0708.23
Well, can I wear a pinner apron as a Continental army laundress or not? Probably not, though I will be going back through all the images of laundering I can find. It would be so useful and protective a garment!
No, instead, it looks as if the black silk pinner apron was a fashion adopted by the British upper class probably in imitation of the aprons worn by young girls. These fleeting, black silk accessories were probably adapted to some other use when the fashion had fallen from favor. (You could make a lot of mitts out of one of those.) Sadly, I don’t care enough about the elite to go chasing inventories and more images, but someone else can. I think I have seen a few other examples of this style, but cannot immediately place them. My sense is that these are not common.
I’m much more interested in laundresses and maids. Doesn’t she look sassy? We could call her Bridget.
A country girl, full-length, facing front, leaning against a fence & a tree. Watercolor by Paul Sandby. RCIN 914438. Royal Collection Trust
Kirsten Hammerstrom 
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