What (Cheer) to Wear?

JBs HousekeeperIt’s 1800. Do you know what your housekeeper is doing? I don’t. Or, more accurately, I can’t decide.
I’m hung up on stays, and not wanting to make another pair. I’m indecisive about style, and though Mrs Garnett has her charms, it’s her bonnet I love more than anything.

Here’s what I’ve found, in servant-land:
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Note that this woman is, in the kitchen, wearing an open robe and quilted petticoat.The style of her bodice–which looks  like a cross-over bodice–and the train of the robe suggest the 1790s. Score one for style.

That open robe, where have I seen that before? Why, yes, Mr Sandby showed us that style for a nurserymaid. (It’s interesting, too, that both images show women with their hair quite visible under their caps, and not pulled up and out of sight.)
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Why does “robe stye” matter? Because I only found 3 and a quarter yards of a brown fabric I like, and even with the most careful cutting, that’s unlikely to make a full gown. However, I have some lightweight black wool that will make a decent petticoat. The bodice style is a bit of a stumper, though: the wool has good drape, so it might work for something other than the usual bodice I make. I did consider whether a very smooth, edge-to-edge, front-closing style of the 1780s would be more appropriate, but I think that I can move the bodice style forward, style-wise, and be correct.

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Brown gowns are a fine tradition in the sartorial habits of questionable servants. This young housemaid twirls her mop dry while wearing a brown gown over what could be a dark blue or a black quilted petticoat. The red “bandannoe” is a nice touch, though I don’t think I’ll wear one myself for this event.

In all this there is a compromise: using fabric I like, in a style I know I can make and document, perhaps even without having to make new stays. That would be ideal, because although it’s four weeks to the event, I’ll lose a week of sewing time to other commitments. Three weeks to pattern and hand sew a petticoat, gown, apron and cap seems just manageable.

Documenting Mr S

The guys are usually easy: they wear what the sergeant tells ’em to wear, and they like it, because that’s what soldiers do.

Mr S in Cambridge

Sergeant’s not a sergeant in quite the same way in 1774-1775: he’s a militia sergeant, and while we can still get up to tricks that get us yelled at, the clothing we wear is more personal. Mr S’s clothes seemed, at first, to be completely undocumentable.

Really? Yes, I have been known to have some anxiety issues over small matters. So I calmed down, re-read the standards, and looked again.

The shirt is checked linen, see here for details. The stockings, which will be replaced by hand-knit blue stockings, are also documented to Rhode Island.  But wait! That’s 1777, can it count for 1775? How long do stockings last, anyway?

I’ll own up to having been described as “literal and precise,” and I’m taking that comment to heart. Reader: literal is where one gets into trouble when one is precise. Literal interpretations can lead you, almost hubristically, into creating replicas of runaway ads  or extant garments that don’t reflect who you are, or what time you are portraying, not really.

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Boston Post Boy, 7/25/1774

But not to worry, I dug up the blue stockings. This is from the Boston Post Boy, July 25, 1774. “White Linen Breeches, blue yarn stockings.” This is not too bad: Mr S has got his basic extremities covered now. It’s hard not to be distracted by the Cotton Shirt with Linen Sleeves, which reminds me of women’s shifts with finer sleeves, or sleeves to pin on.

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Providence Gazette, 7/4/1772.

Keeping focused, let’s get Mr S more fully dressed, more proper, and warmer, since this is late August. You can’t see his waistcoat under the green jacket, but here you can. I know this broadcloth fabric, and its color, are from the acceptable palette for the last quarter of the 18th century, but can I find one in Providence or Massachusetts? Just about. The waistcoat described in this ad is camblet. There’s no goat or camel in Mr S’s camel-colored waistcoat, but I think we’ll call it found and be grateful that Mr S has not taken any action despite the numerous photos I have posted of him in various “poofy shirts” and “funny outfits,” as some of my friends describe them.

What’s left? There’s John Appleton’s ad in the Essex Gazette of May 17, 1774 for “blue, green and cloth colored bandannoes,” which pretty much takes care of the neck cloth; we’ve a brownish one, and a blue one; the Young Mr likes the orangey one, but I think we have those documented.

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Essex Gazette, 12/6/1774
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Providence Gazette, 1/29/1774

The green jacket, that’s what’s left. In the Essex Gazette of December 6, 1774, we find a “green jacket, light breeches, and yard Stockings,” much like what Mr S is wearing.  Nice! Multiple sources of documentation for items are always welcome chez Calash.

And, knowing that, you will not be surprised that I have found another jacket, closer to home. In the Providence Gazette of January 29, 1774, the man with the “proper hair mole” runs away in a green jacket. He’s also got leather breeches, and they’re on my wish list, though other things must come first, given their expense–things like tires, and allergy drops for the Young Mr.

Tentage

Scene of the Camp on Hampton Green, 1781
Scene of the Camp on Hampton Green, 1781

Like many other reenactors/living historians/suckers for wool in summer, I’ve been following the First Oval Office project with interest and envy. Imagine my delight upon finding this blog by Tyler Rudd Putman, who is working on that and many other projects of interest.
The common tent project l is one that I really do hope to take on someday, though I doubt I can ever achieve a tent of this level of quality. (Reader, I cannot weave.) But I can aspire, at the least, and I see that a hand-sewn tent is something even I can achieve. It won’t get done by me in just one day, but over the course of several weeks I could get one done as long as I cleared the downstairs of all our furniture, and put up with a cat sewn into a seam. (My assistant has been lying down on the job, melting in the heat.)

The Howling Assistant Lies Down on the Job

I’ve been thinking about tents since the after-dark hilarity at Monmouth setting up an unknown tent in the dark with a brittle pole that had to be repaired with string from a pasty wrapper, and the later perhaps over-zealous cleaning by Mr S of the tent abused by a cat and identified on the NJ turnpike’s extended play of “What the Hell’s that Smell?”

I’m not sure why we’re allowed to remain in our regiments, really, I am not. But I suspect that an ability to produce Chesire Pork pie is a factor in our favor.

We’ll be setting up tents at OSV in just about a week, broken pole and all, and looking ahead to that, I give you the following links for further reading on tents.

John U. Rees on tents in both armies of the Revolution.

How to fold a tent.

Period (British) images.

Even more documentaton: scrolling down, Rhode Islan had a return of 147 tents in May, 1781– that’s about 882 soldiers, at 6 men per tent, a max of 1029 at 7 men per tent. (At least one is always on duty, so there would not be more than 5 or 6 sleeping at any one time).

Amazing and image-rich essay, The Tent Article

Lochee, Essay on Castremetation, which I read and forget by the time it is dark and some man is trying to reason with me about how a camp should be arranged, when all I want to do is sleep. With that in mind, a brush arbor is starting to look good…