Like many people, I could sleep better. Lately, the middle-of-the-night waking has been caused by the Young Mr sneaking down the creaking stairs at 2:30, ostensibly to get a drink. Sounded more like a snack to me, but either way, I was awake at in the middle of the night and am yawning this morning.
The 18th century prints are full of domestic details not always found in formal portraits– and certainly this is an image never to be found in a formal portrait. Prints gave artists a chance to play with light in a different way; lithographs, by their nature, allow this kind of chiaroscuro imagery and informality.
On the table next to the “Drowsy Dame” is what really caught my eye: the stocking. This print, from 1769, goes very nicely withWm. and Joseph Russell’s ad in the Providence Gazette and Country Journal, 1768. That ad included knitting needles.
Young Knitter Asleep, Jean-Baptiste Greuze, ca. 1759. Huntington Museum, 78.20.8
At this time, needles are slender steel rods, not bamboo or wood or anodized aluminum (or plastic) we use today. Hand knitting is done in the round, as you can see in the hands of this sleepy young knitter. (Is it the repetitive nature of stockings that lulls these knitters to sleep?) For more in historical knitting, there’s Colleen Humphrey’s blog, Mara Riley’s website, as well as English sources. It’s not my thing–I’m able, but like these women, I cannot finish a stocking, though there are plenty of published patterns.
So, I always thought that window shopping was a product of the late 19th or early 20th century, the plate glass windows of the Bon Ton, and The Lady’s Paradise.
Providence Gazette and Country Journal, 4-18-1772
I was wrong. Check out the last line in this ad from the Providence Gazette and Country Journal of April, 1772:
“Any Person not wanting to purchase, but having a Mind to see the greatest Pennyworths, shall be waited on with great Chearfulness, by their very humble Servant, PAUL ALLEN.”
In case we forget, the past is there to remind us that the consumer culture started much, much earlier than we think it did. Stop blaming Don Draper: I give you Paul Allen.
Because I am prey to a pretty print as much as the next princess costume blogger tenant farmer’s wife, I thought I should go looking for evidence before I launch into any cotton sacques, and to justify the use of the print remnant I’m stitching up into a jacket. (Apologies in advance to my friend who bought enough for a gown, because you know we’ll wear them to the same event…)
Providence Gazette and Country Journal, March 16, 1765
American Historical Newspapers to the rescue, once again. Here’s an ad for Alexander Black and Archibald Stewart, from the Providence Gazette and Country Journal of March 16, 1765. Chintz and calico: it’s here in Providence in 1765. I knew there were merchants selling calicoes and chintzes in Providence in 1768 (including Samuel Young, who printed his broadside in red).
Three years later, Joseph and Wm. Russell at the sign of the Golden Eagle are selling (lately imported from London and Bristol) “A neat and genteel assortment of dark ground calicoes and chintz.” This ad runs to four columns in the Providence Gazette and Country Journal, 1768, April 9. It’s a tantalizing list, and no, I did not miss those chip hats and bonnets!
Digression: I was attracted to this bit about forks as I recall being told by a historic house tour guide once that “forks were not in common use until the Civil War.” It’s an early house, maybe he meant the English Civil War, but I think forks were here to stay and be bought for a variety of prices long before the American Civil War. How else to explain those archaeological finds that show forks of some kind at Rev War forts and camp sites? /Digression. New digression: OMG, knitting needles! /New digression.
Back to chintz: Here, in 1771, is William Eliot, selling chintzes in Providence, and advertising in the Providence Gazette and Country Journal of June 1, 1771. He also has “flowered and sprigged lawn in aprons,” and Kenting and check handkerchiefs. (Kenting was a fine linen fabric)
In the limited search I ran (1754-1783 newspapers), plenty of references to chintz appear in Providence alone (there were 166 hits, but the ads repeat). This completely unscientific approach in which I stopped looking in 1771*, has turned up 5 merchants, if you count the RIHS Library’s broadside for Samuel Young. Chintzes and calicoes were everywhere. Dark grounds were “genteel,” checks and spots and stripes are popular and common.
Paul Sandby, London Cries: Black Heart cherries… ca. 1759. YCBA, B1975.3.206
I begin to see 18th century Providence, if not all of the Colonies, as a variegated, kaleidoscopic place of pattern and color. I think there was more than we realize, even if only in small amounts.
Look again at the cherry seller: her petticoat is yellow and blue, if not yellow, blue, and white striped, her apron is blue, her stockings brown or faded reddish, her cap is affixed with a pink or red ribbon, and she wears a checked kerchief. She’s poor and sort of faded, but she’s colorful–more colorful, perhaps, than we have credited.
*I do have to head out to work, but I can search again.
Sweet, right? Who wouldn’t want to look (or at least dress–those pupils suggest something untoward, chemically) like this doll? And she’s 1763. Of course, my friend DC didn’t get the grant he applied for, so he has to try again.
Still, it seems the event will go ahead and I am stumbling on under the impression that I will have a chance to make myself something lovely for August. Of course, that comes only after I make the regimental menswear, so why am I typing and not backstitching? Because after a while, it’s just plain dull. Plus, doll! Printed cotton! Lightweight and lovely! And look: a hairstyle I can manage: birds’ nest.
Nice Petticoat.
What I like about this doll are her details. (The better written description is on the V&A website, but the better photos are at VADS.) She’s wearing a sacque (known also as a sack-back robe or a robe a la Francaise) and matching petticoat, a green silk quilted petticoat, a white linen petticoat, and a pocket that matches her gown.
The blue silk of her stomacher is used as trim on her sleeves, which are ornamented with flounces. Hallie Larkin goes into this well on her blog post about Changes in Cuffs. And that’s what stops me: the fine linen and the lace.
An actual reproduction, no less.
The gown itself, even a sacque, seems like something I can manage. (And yes, this is but one more piece of cotton sacque evidence.) A very similar fabric is available and if this sells out, there are variations on the theme. The blue silk stomacher can be managed: I have taffeta sources, and from making bonnets have learned the basics of the serpentine designs. I could make that. But those flounces–what about those?
Here she is from the V&A, ca. 1760, T.19-1936
Here’s the V&A description: “lace and cotton elbow ruffles.” Hmm. Cotton, perhaps that I can find in a fine, sheer weave. But the lace?
The more I think about this lovely gown, about the materials, and who would wear it, the more I think I’m better off sticking with lightweight wool and Sandby’s cherry seller...
I love a good challenge, but the lads need regimentals and their own 1763 apparel. Sandby’s woman wears a gown I’ve made before, so construction screw-ups will be fewer time will be shorter. And at least we can all wear whatever I make for various other celebrations and riots. New England had them in abundance in the 1760s and 1770s.
Kirsten Hammerstrom 
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