Yes, finished! And just in time, too! The braid arrived in the mail three days before the Spencer was wanted, and fortunately I had finished the garment by then, and the baking could take care of itself after a while, and I managed not to get eggs beaten with sugar on any lovely wool or mohair.
I think it looks well enough with the gown and bonnet, though I am fairly certain the darts are too far to the sides in this iteration. How that happens when you use the same pattern twice I do not know.
As mentioned previously, the cuffs are pieced, but this is a perfectly accurate way to deal with a shortage of material and/or cuffs.
I’m fairly pleased with how it turned out, and very pleased with how warm it is. Over the cotton gown, the Spencer was plenty warm– and I certainly wished I had it after we left the house and went down to the river!
On the whole, I suppose I’m pleased…as pleased as I ever am …which means you can expect pattern revisions in the future!
Mr Herreshoff and Miss Brown hope soon to be married
Mrs Brown will be in, and receiving guests, and we hear that Mr Herreshoff will come to call as well. While he may decry the state of the roads, we expect him to have news of business conditions in New York, and his prospects for the future.
Miss Alice– Mrs Mason, now– will be at home with her sister, Miss Brown, and Mr Mason is living here now as well. I do not know how I shall keep their room in order, since he is hardly outside of it!
There are other visitors I expect as well; there is a man (I cannot call him a gentleman) who has been doing jobs for us, though he does not live here at the house. He seems extraordinarily interested in the house, and will not stay away. Whatever can be his interest? There may also be a tailor and his apprentice– though the apprentice tends to daydreaming, and looks above his station, studying Latin at all hours. I think he will not be long in his apprenticeship if he will not pay attention.
What Cheer Day preparations must begin in earnest now, no matter how distracting I might find orderly books or silk shoes (not in my size, alas: no last can be found). I already have clothes enough for a housekeeper, though I still crave a broadcloth Spencer and am working on a petticoat. I’ll hardly go outside that day, so why am I thinking bonnets– especially when I have a known bonnet problem?
One of my favorite resources for Federal era Providence is Julia Bowen’s diary. Born December 1, 1779, Julia’s diary records her life in Providence in 1799, when she was 19. She records the daily activities of the second set of Providence women– daughters not of the most elite merchants, like John Brown and John Innes Clark, but the Bowens, Powers, Howells, and Whipples. Distinguished, but not super-elite. Many of the entries are as prosaic and superficial as you’d expect from a young woman in late adolescence, and thank goodness they are, or we’d never be able to imagine life in such fine detail.
Julia got me thinking about bonnets with her entry of April 12:
found the Major & Citizen Sarah & C. Angell altering their cold scoops into Rosina hats, so busily were they employed that the Major could not go a visiting, which deprived me at once of the greatest pleasure I anticipated in my visit.
(She used code names for her friends; some we can decode, and some we cannot.)
I haven’t been able to decipher what “Rosina hats” were, but cold scoops I could handle: coal scoops.
That colloquialism fits not just fashion plates but extant coal scoops and buckets.
Denham’s Auctioneers: Lot 418 A copper coal shovel and a brass coal shovel
Denham’s Auctioneers: Lot 153 A copper helmet shaped coal scuttle with brass shovel and turned wooden handle £20-40
You just have to imagine them turned over.
The Gallery of Fashion, 1797, Bathing Place, Morning Dresses.
I went for cold scoop, with a pasteboard brim and olive green taffeta brim and caul. The mannequin is a 3-D sketch, if you will, of what the housekeeper plans to wear this autumn. At least until she can figure out what a Rosina hat is.
The Frail Sisters, 12 May 1794. British Museum, 2010,7081.1077
Here’s the British Museum’s description of this print: “Two young women dressed in fine clothes in a room with decorated wallpaper, one sitting in front of the window looking onto the street, with a pet squirrel on her lap, turning to smile towards the viewer and pointing at herself, while the other stands behind her chair on the right. 12 May 1794.” It’s good to get the pet squirrel question out of the way.
This is another print that’s hard for us to read completely: you might wonder why they’re called the Frail sisters. Is Frail a proper noun, an adjective, or something else? It’s probably code: frail here may well refer to the strength of their morals rather than their biceps.
There’s another Frail Sisters drawing, also 18th century, probably late 1780s-early 1790s. This is appears to be a ‘straight’ drawing, but I don’t know: it could be an artist’s portrait of three prostitutes at play. Or it could be actresses (they weren’t so very far from prostitutes and courtesans).
Mrs Frail appears in William Congreve’s Love for Love; do these images also reference characters first seen in Restoration comedies? This is stuff I haven’t thought about in a long time, so I can’t yet unpack how the title and meaning of the print relate to what the women are wearing. And I might be over-thinking things a bit, so let’s step back and just look.
What is the standing sister wearing?
A half-robe, indoors. Time of day, indeterminate, but perhaps morning.
The Farmer’s Door. George Morland, London: Published by J. R. Smith, King Street, Covent Garden, Aug. 4, 1790
A somewhat easier image to read is the print after George Morland’s The Farmer’s Door, from 1790. This genre painting presents the romanticized vision of humble life, with the farmer’s wife and her children (note the blue stays on the seated child).
Is the farmer’s wife wearing a half-robe over a quilted petticoat and apron? The quality of the images I can find is poor, and the coloring questionable.
In another version here, the kerchief is clearer and seems to go over a long-sleeved garment with a short skirt.
Selling Carrots by George Morland Date painted: 1795 Oil on canvas, 76 x 63.5 cm Collection: Brighton and Hove Museums and Art Galleries
In Selling Carrots, there is another short-skirted garment with long sleeves worn over a petticoat and with a kerchief.
Without getting overly distracted by titles and meaning, I think there are clues to how these half-robes or jackets are worn by women of different classes, aspirations, and locations. For rural women who are not gentry, these appear to be comfortable working clothes worn all day. For urban women, they seem to be worn early in the day, and sometimes out of doors, perhaps even to the lending library.
Kirsten Hammerstrom 
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