Tag: 10th Massachusetts

Lunatic Fringe

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, History, Living History, Reenacting2 Comments
Hunting frock and overalls complete!
Hunting frock and overalls complete!

Oh, my goodness, it’s done! It’s done, and the photos have passed the master. Phew! Just one more to go, oh, my goodness, no.

The Young Mr was allowed to carry a musket in the Warren Memorial Day Parade. I do not love a parade, so I didn’t go. But he had no overalls of suitable fit and they were so nearly done, that I resolved to finish them, and finish them I did, in time for bed on Saturday, no less. It’s all thanks to BBC’s brutal but entrancing programming. My sewing better to blood curdling screams (also courtesy ITV), which seems awful but there it is…though the darkness of Mad Men has proven good for back stitching, decent button holes require murder.

Buttonholes. I hate those guys less now.
Buttonholes. I hate those guys less now.

Fifteen button holes, multiple fittings, and some curse words have resulted in a pair of decent-fitting overalls that did not split at the knee or stretch too extremely when worn. And atop it all, in the yard if not in the parade, the new model hunting front adopted by the 10th Massachusetts. The Young Mr is uniform-forward as Neal Hurst’s research has led the adjutant to conclude that the men were wearing frocks, and not shirts. (In the Rhode Island records, I found that rifle frocks were listed until 1780/1781, when the Records of the State of Rhode Island began to indicate rifle or hunting “frocks or shirts.” That’s a wrinkle for Mr Hurst, but I saw only frock in 1777-1780.)

Lunatic fringe. Cut, fold, clip, strip, stitch.
Lunatic fringe. Cut, fold, clip, strip, stitch.

The fringing is a task completed by Mr S, who has fringed the strips for his own Rhode Island hunting frock, and now knows what fun awaits him as another frock will made for him. My goal? Another complete 10th Massachusetts kit by June 15. I’ve sewn buttonholes in a moving car before, and I expect to be felling seams or sewing buttonholes as we travel down to New Jersey. They’ll be fine; after all, the traffic is murder.

Shoulders and Sleeves

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, Living History, Reenacting
Dante's Own Infernal Sleeve of Poof
Dante’s Own Infernal Sleeve of Poof

Twenty-four hours on, this is where we are: Poofy, shoulder-popping sleeve of doom. How can that be a uniform sleeve?

Well, Pilgrim, this is how:

Oh. They're all Infernal Sleeves of Doom.
Oh. They’re all Infernal Sleeves of Doom.

So glad I have that near-feral hunting shirt, because without it I would have ripped this out completely. Could the Poof of Doom be there to allow movement?

Subject was detained for photography.

Before school, even.
Before school, even.

Arm out, doubts remain. Arm down, less terrifying.

I do feel sorry for him, but at the same time, I have to fit it to him.
I do feel sorry for him, but at the same time, I have to fit it to him.

It’s possible that the poof at the apogee of the shoulder is due to the intense pressing I gave this to retain the center line, and the fact that, despite washing, the linen is still pretty stiff. When I compare the two– the completed shirt and the in-progress shirt, I can see that while both display a tendency to drift up, the gathers on the adjutant’s shirt are more evenly distributed. You know what that means…and that’s why the sleeve is only basted in. Might as well change it now as on Sunday, because it must be done. So in the end, I am ripping it out completely, but with the knowledge that 1) the upward angle seems to be correct as shown in the finished garment, and 2) evening out gathers may reduce the Poof of Doom.

Sewing for the Adjutant

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, Living History, Reenacting3 Comments
Falling In, OSV 2012
Falling In, OSV 2012

We were invited to join a Massachusetts regiment after the event at Old Sturbridge Village last summer, and we did. This has been a good thing, though it’s sometimes a little tricky to figure out which unit to “be” with. It is also a challenge because even though the Rhode Island unit has careful (if unwritten and slightly out-of-date) standards, the Massachusetts unit is another thing altogether.

Gathering the first sleeve head. Destination: Saturday afternoon
Gathering the sleeve heads. Saturday is soon!

The women last weekend kept asking what I was working on so assiduously. It was the hunting shirt (to become a frock) for the Young Mr for the new unit. Cut by the master, entirely hand-sewn by me. This is not something they would do.

“Sewing for The Adjutant, ” I said, “is another thing altogether.”

“Don’t even try. Who can sew like that? He’s a professional,” I was told.

What we're aiming for.
What we’re aiming for.

Well, yes.

So wouldn’t that be the very thing to reach for? It’s not like he’s not helpful. I have his shirt to copy, he answers my questions patiently, and I haven’t yet felt like an idiot.

The skill I have I owe in part to my mother and grandmother, and to the Dress U workshop with Sharon Burnston.  Stroke gathers, two-by-two stitching, using the tiniest needle possible are all things I learned or honed in Sharon’s workshop. And thanks to that workshop, this hunting shirt-(perhaps)-soon-to-be-frock is a great deal easier to tackle.

The other part of skill is practice. It’s as true for piano or soccer as it is for sewing. Just keep stitching, and it will come.

And after the fitting, the fringing. That's for someone else to do.
After fitting comes fringing. That’s for someone else to do.

What I find hardest is fit: not only is it hard for me to judge how much to take in a garment to achieve 18th century fit while maintaining enough ease for the wearer to swing an ax (or to accommodate teenage wriggling), alterations annoy me. I suspect that the key may well be not to fit at the end of a day, but at a beginning, or at least a middle. Fitting after a long day of sewing could make you think you were tossing away a whole day of work. It also feels, still, like taking a car to the mechanic or the cat to the vet. There’s something wrong, and I don’t quite understand it. Yet. But with Shoulders Roll Forward and Monkey Arms, I bet I’ll understand more soon.

Over(h)alls, Trousers, & Breeches, oh, my!

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, History, Museums3 Comments
Trousers, ca 1793. MMA,1988.342.3

Gentleman can agree to disagree on the attributed date of this garment, just as gentlemen might agree to differ on whether to call these trousers or overalls. It’s all in the crotch length, friends, and we’ll just back away.

But before I return a book of letters to the lender, I wanted to record some of the details that struck me.

Right from the start, the John Buss Letters, edited by Ed Nash, are filled with details. I got excited because, in a slightly random and not at all fabric-hoarding way, I purchased a remnant of grey striped woolen goods from Wm Booth, with the intention of making a jacket or trousers from the fabric.

This notion was rejected by my resident tenant farmer, who has particular ideas about his appearance and the quality of goods which should encase his limbs. Rebuffed from my historic fashion fantasy, I turned for solace to the John Buss letters, determined to make it all up by learning the history of the tenant farmer’s new regiment.

And lo, on page 9, in the very second letter, John writes home to his parents in Leominster, MA on October 1, 1776, saying that “my trowis has got very thin, I should be very glad if mother would make me a pare of striped wooling trowis as son as you can…” My tenant farmer was not impressed by my excitement.

Yes, all my fantasies are documented. But look: John Buss’s trousers are thin, not his breeches. And he’s clear about the difference between trousers, overhalls and breeches. In a February 22, 1778 letter from Valley Forge, Buss tells how he drawd from stores in Bennington “one frock, one Jacket, one Pare overhalls, one of stockings, one Pare of shoes and one shirt. Albany, October 25th., 1777, I drawd a  Red Jacket Quemans Pattern. November 5th., I drawd a pare of Braches and a pare of fresh shoes that was not worth tow shillings.”

Later, Buss requests lining (linen) to make breeches, as he is hot. So he draws clear distinctions between these garment forms. This is a costumer’s dream, really, and for me–oh, those striped wooling trowis! Now I have to make them. Look out, Young Mr…they’re headed your way. And lucky me, I have documentation for that red broadcloth remnant I bought in a random and utterly non-fabric-hoarding way.