Let’s begin with the easy part: pretty pictures of a pretty house. (It’s too easy, right? More on that later this week.)
There are only a few for now– while our photographer took over 800 images, before he can process and sort them, we have to put the house back together first!
October 25 was a Saturday in 1800, the last Saturday before the first public schools opened in Providence on October 27. Mr Sweet, the tailor’s apprentice, had too much current-day public school homework to join us.
Mr Mason begins his day
It was as well, perhaps, that Mr Sweet did not see the client in his natural environment. His tailor, Mr Taber, arrived with many samples and plates for Mr Mason’s perusal, and the room was in quite a state by the day’s end. I do not know why Mr Mason could not take the short walk to Cheapside, but his custom is so good that the tailor made an exception and came to call.
Lawn games
Late in the afternoon, we played battledore and shuttlecock; I was surprised and pleased to see the images and how much like Diana Sperling’s drawings they looked. It was a pleasure to see that we were doing something right, though a cold scoop bonnet was no help in seeing the shuttlecock.
Nancy Smith hears her fortune from Goody Morris
The fortune teller came, much to the consternation of Mrs Brown and her sister. I believe it was the housekeeper who thought she could get away with inviting her friend to the house; in any case, it was foretold that Kitty should have comfort in her life, which was a great relief to someone who had been wearing straight-lasted and very flat shoes for some twelve hours.
Mr Young and Goody Morris
Of late there has been a man hanging about the house; he enjoyed Goody Morris’s conversation as well, though late in the afternoon he caused quite a disturbance with a delivery of wine. We think he had been imbibing from our order, and his behaviour caused our new maid, Eliza, much distress. Mrs Brown was not well pleased at the commotion in her house.
What Cheer Day 2014
Still, by the end of the day, we were well satisfied with our work, and posed for the passing limner.
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.
On Saturday, I got a very nice piece of wool from Mr C’s Strategic Fabric Reserve, just the color and weight I’d been looking for to make a Very Specific Spencer. The VSS is not a replica, but rather specific to a gown: I want it to go with a 1797 V&A print.
Did women wear Spencers in 1797-1800 Providence? At least one tailor, Joseph Taber, advertised that he made Habits and Spencers, but as far as I know, there are no extant Rhode Island Spencers. Given how few collections are fully online here, and how few Spencers survive anywhere, I’m not too surprised. Julia Bowen’s diary covers Spring and Summer, when she’s quilting (mighty lazy work, she says), but she doesn’t say much about outerwear.
Providence Journal, 11-13-1799
I’ve been on the fence about how common Spencers were– after all, the drawings in Mrs Hurst Dancing show women clearly wearing red cloaks– but might a Spencer and cloak combination have been just the thing to keep warm on a raw October day? With a wool petticoat and long wool stockings, you could be fashionable and warm.
There’s no firm documentation of any of that– which does not mean, as I once muttered in the general direction of some recalcitrant docents, that rich people in Providence hunkered naked in cold corners of curtain-less rooms gnawing on raw meat.** What it does mean is that much of what we make and wear is conjecture, based on examples from the same time period in other geographic areas.
Can I have a Spencer in New England? I’m not sure, but I’ve made another one anyway, and here it is, still underway. (The thing about Cassandra is that while she is a very patient model, she has terrible posture. I can verify the back fits me a great deal better than it fits her.)
Cassandra’s posture is very different from mine. She will not pull her shoulders back!
This wool is buttery and soft, and takes the needle well. Waxed thread glides through it and grips. It does have a tendency to fray a bit at the cut edges, but has a good pinked edge, and there are examples of pinked-edge facings in extant men’s wear. Sweet, right?
I’m not showing you this to boast about my skills, but to show off an dandy mistake. In working the folded edge of the collar, I trimmed a bit too much at the neck edge, and found the collar a bit small when I basted it in. Of course I removed it, and started again, easing a bit more as I went: Huzzay! It fit!
Really, I’m not sure how this happened. But there it is: upside down.
Oh, reader: rejoice not. I backstitched that bad boy on upside down. Expletive deleted! Mad Skillz: I even managed that bit of genius before my pre-work panic attack.
I took the garment in to work to seek council from my tailoring-class-educated friend who possesses native common sense and Yankee practicality. It came down to this: is it worse to have the collar upside down, or to have it not fit as well right side up? Decide with the knowledge that working the fabric more will affect the cut edge badly. My friend suggested stitching in the ditch with contrasting thread to make this flaw an Intentional Design Element.
Black trim on a Spencer?
That is a good idea, but I thought the flaw will still be too noticeable. Then it came to me: trim. Just as the construction guys are spreading drywall mud in the chinks around the window frames, I can spread some wool braid love around this collar. There’s certainly evidence for trim use on Spencers in fashion plates, and trim would push the men’s wear aspect of this garment even farther. As soon as I got home, I double-checked extant garments and fashion plates, Roy Najecki’s lace page, and measured my edges.
Four yards of quarter-inch black mohair braid should do the job, stitched around the edge of the collar and lapels, the cuffs and possibly the hem edge.
Do I run the chance of looking like a black-outlined cartoon drawing? Yes.
Did I just buy endless hours of tiny stitching? Yes.
This is a crazy, work-making solution that may leave me with a garment not suited to my class in early Federal Providence. But I think it’s going to look amazing when it’s finished.
**(The docents argued that textiles were SO RARE and SO PRICY in late 18th century RI that NO ONE in Providence had curtains. NO ONE. The lack of fire was my own bitterness coming out at this Great Curtain Kerfluffle which took place at a public lecture I gave explaining what we knew about the use of textiles to furnish Providence homes of people who would be as rich as Bill Gates today.)
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.
Kirsten Hammerstrom 
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