Front view on Cassandra.Back view, over petticoats
That’s right, it’s done, in all its brown and green glory, with not one buttonhole in sight.
I imagine Henry Cooke will tug on it, the same way my grandmother used to tug on my clothes, and find the things I need to fix that I can’t even see until he points them out. But that’s OK– what better way to learn?
You can see the progression on the project here, but there’s no tutorial or instruction manual, just visual notes as I went along. It’s Mr Cooke’s pattern and kit.
I think they’ll be glad of wool coats up at Saratoga, and if I didn’t have a new gown and petticoat, and possibly even stays, to make by October 5, I would think hard about making John Buss’s “red Queman’s pattern jacket” and “striped woolen trowsis” for the Young Mr to wear. With luck, he’ll have a borrowed coat to wear; I doubt a hunting frock will be as warm as he’d like by late September. No one, not even Mr Cooke (and I did ask), knows with certainty what a “Queman’s pattern jacket” is, but it might be a short coat or jacket. What I do know is that visions of a short red coat and grey striped trousers dance in my head, and the list of things I want to make just gets longer.
For now, though, this 1777 10th Massachusetts coatee is done, or nearly done, though on Mr S, I predict center back pleat tweaking.
In 1777, the uniforms of the Continental Army remained largely uncodified and, well, non-uniform. At Ticonderoga, German accounts from the spring of 1777 state that “Few of the officers in General Gates’ army wore uniforms, and those that were worn were evidently of home manufacture and of all colors. For example, brown coats with sea-green facings, white linings, and silver dragons(epaulettes or shoulder knots), and gray coats with yellow buttons and straw facings, where to be seen in plenty.”
Brown coats with sea green facings. There’s one in our regiment, and it is a lovely thing. The Adjutant thought it would be interesting for the troops to turn out in these coats at Saratoga, an event to which the coat can be documented (being soon after Fort Ticonderoga) and an event that will take place on the historic site. So we’re making them, in a project that started Saturday, and here we are: ready to have the lapel width adjusted, because my eye tells me it is too big, and yes, I’m told that it was cut a but wide. So this morning, a lapel trim is in order.
An American Soldier. ca.1852 copy of a ca.1777 watercolor by Hessen-Hanau Captain Friedrich von Germann. Niedersächsisches Staatsarchiv, Wolfenbüttel, Braunschweig
But really, these coats.
Here you can see the style that we’re making, with applied lapels and shanked buttons, simple turn backs on the front skirts, and flat collars. The cuffs are also applied, non-functioning cuffs that come to a point in front. (Also, documented blue stockings!)
These coats will be worn with overalls, waistcoats and shoes, because we know from John Buss’s letters that the regiment was issued overalls and shoes in the summer of 1777. No visible stockings, sadly.
This is the kind of project I can get pretty stoked about, with its combination of aesthetics and documentation. A coat described in a German diary, made in pettable wool broadcloth that will be unlike anything else on the field? Of course I want to help make that vision real.
Imagine a moment on the field, with these documented coats, so unusual (the sea green may have been a faded blue, but sea green is what was seen), worn in a place where they were worn. I don’t need to remind you about the authenticity/commemoration thing, do I? Because it’s pretty clear that’s what’ll happen three weeks from now in New York.
Kyoto Costume Institute. Right: Robe a l’anglaise, 1790-95, England. AC5065 85-3-1
(Part one of a series)
Or do you wear what you are?
Both statements seem true, but what I know is this: dressing for the October 5 event has me stymied.
I am stuck on fabric. Sharon Burnston’s advice last Saturday was very helpful: Think Ralph Earl. She’s right: Earl’s iconic images give you the shape and accessories of southeastern New England dress in the last decades of the 18th century.
The tricky part for me is that Earl’s portraits don’t show you the maid or the housekeeper.
The character I’m playing is interesting to me: she’s invisible but powerful, respectable but not refined, loyal but detached. We don’t need to get into my familiarity with any of these paradoxes, but this might be a comfortable discomfort. What could this have to do with fabric? A great deal, as it happens.
The first thing I thought I should do was to figure out the “when and why” of my character’s style choices. After talking with Sharon, I thought I understood our characters’ relationship better, and at the very least, what her character would expect of mine. And let me tell you, it is much harder to imagine being a naughty maid when you like and respect your mistress!
But I like my work to be playful: authenticity does not preclude wit, and in the late 18th century, I would argue that authenticity, at some levels, requires wit. So, how does one visually signal respect for one’s employer and playfulness?
Good lord, when is she going to talk about fabric? Right now, that’s when!
With fabric, and with style and fit, that’s how you can signal the respectful/playful combination.
And fabric is where I’ve been stuck. The gown in the photo (aside from some interesting odors and a few unidentifiable splotches) is made of a sober and suitable wool fabric. The sleeves are partially lined with an Indian block print fabric to provide a non-itchy surface and a little contrast. But I think the gown’s style is a little forward for my character as I understand her in relationship to Sharon’s character. It was also made short for working at the farm, and needs a pressing.
Still, an earlier style in a solid light-weight wool feels a little too sober to me. It feels more like the Fortnightly Dances, and less like me or my character. A possible compromise? Style like Ralph Earl, fabric like the KCI gown.
Thanks to the Strategic Fabric Reserve, I have some black cotton block print yardage and in looking for that, I rediscovered the yellow linen.
BLOCK-PRINTED COTTON British, ca. 1780–90. Cora Ginsburg.
Why this particular fabric? Aside from my whimsy and the KCI inspiration, dark grounds come into fashion in the late 1780s, and as a servant, I will lag a bit, style-wise. Could I have a cheaper version of the fabric at left (a child’s dress, 1780-1790, at Cora Ginsburg)? Barbara Johnson’s book at the V&A contains samples of dark ground prints from 1787 on; they’re different the vine-like print at left, but floral prints on black or dark brown are popular in these last decades.
I’m not committed to the black ground gown for this event. I’ve ordered swatches of Burnley & Trowbridge’s new light-weight wools, and we’ll see. Color and hand could convince me, and I can always line the lower part of the sleeves with a cotton print.
The Countryside at War, Hartwell Tavern, MMNHP, August 24, 2013
We came, we saw, we sewed, we ate cake. No, it was more than that, though there was any quantity of excellent cake on a lovely Saturday.
I had a chance to spend the whole day with people I really enjoy talking to, like Sharon Burnston and Sew18thCentury. (I love that silk gown. I really do.) We are all preparing for an event we will be part of in Providence in October, and I think and hope it will be great fun! But I’m getting several weeks and 25 years ahead of myself.
On Saturday, Sharon was a widow who had traveled from New Hampshire to visit her daughter, who was but one month from her confinement. She had a portmanteau of clothes for the soon to be born child, and food, as the blockade and closing of the city had made obtaining anything very difficult.
Before the jacket was applied
Visitors came and asked interesting questions, but there wasn’t much I could answer. Reader, I had not studied. I had sewn instead, vain woman that I am, laboring to produce new trousers and a new waistcoat for the Young Mr. He spent the day reading his school book, recovered in craft paper and blue check linen. Saving grace, that cover, and I plan to make many more. The Young Mr (after hauling carts and goods for people) found some handy stones and settled in to get his work done.
His father plans to make him a full-size wooden musket from some mahogany that was left over from construction at work: there are no rules to prevent him learning to drill will a dummy musket. At events when he’s not trying to do his school work, he does enjoy being put to work. He likes to feel useful, and I am grateful to people who recognize that, and help me keep him in the hobby. This was all his idea in the first place…
Sew18thCentury and I had a long walk on the bike path, which was mildly dangerous. Bonnets block a great deal of your vision, and change your hearing, so bicycles are particularly troubling. And when wearing a bonnet, one has to peer out from under it to see anything above you, or your lap, as you can see here.
Our clothing was documented, as you know from posts on this blog. I assembled sheets for each of us, and they can be found here: The Young Mr, Mr S and Kitty. I finished it all late on Friday night, so by the time I reached my own, well…there’s always next year to tidy that up. I still like the gown, and I really like the lightweight wool olive/brownish petticoat with the gown. Hooray! Clothing I like, in wool, that can be worn in summer. What’s not to like? (Well, pins, for one thing. They bend and pop out.)
Drilling in the shade, Shirley-style
The men were drilled for the September 28 event, which rolls forward, sort of. I expect or hope for a schedule this week, which will be helpful. Fingers crossed…though no matter what, I will have to hope a train back to Providence by 3 to make rehearsal for the event at work. That should be interesting…
Now it’s down to finishing and fixing projects in process, and deciding on fabric for a housekeeper’s gown from 1800. I think I’ve settled on a year and style, but the fabric eludes me still. I have to find it pretty soon, because on Saturday, I’ll start making coats for Saratoga. I’m a sucker for beauty, and the Adjutant got me with sea foam green and dark brown wool. The facings are false, so really, a button-hole-free, single-year, described in a letter, regimental coat? The artist in me won, and I am so making that.
Many, many thanks to Sharon Burnston and Friends of Minute Man National Park for the photos! I took none, except of the Young Mr in our yard.
Kirsten Hammerstrom 
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