He doesn’t always look this horrible, but when the Young Mr sets out to look like death, he does it very well. Dressing 18th Century style comes at the price of fittings, and while we like to cut a fine enough figure at an event, we want no part whatsoever of the process. Even the promise of playing with a dog won’t get us to a fitting. And he dearly wants a dog…so you know fittings are a trial.
Cutting Out on Sunday
The pattern is by Henry Cooke, based on both a Rhode Island original in a private collection and a jacket in the collection of the Connecticut Historical Society. It is solidly 1770s-1780s, unlined, and both originals made up in brown linen. (From the pattern notes and what I know of the CHS jacket, accession number 1981.110.0; their catalog links are unstable, search for 1981.110.0.)
It goes together well; I started without directions, but as I am more idiot than savant, I got myself confused. I did have to alter the sleeve for the Young Mr, as he has long, thin arms. The rest of the pattern seemed to fit him pretty well, all in all, but a few untoward things happened between measuring, mock-up, basting and fitting. Still, it can be worn, with improvements made next week after he wears it in Cambridge this Sunday.
Prince of Wales’ banyan, ca. 1780. Royal Pavilion & Museums, Brighton. ID CT002728
Soooo, what about that banyan?
Cotton chintz printed in red, brown and purple with blue pencil. Batting seems to be cotton by the way it has bunched in the diamonds, but I expected wool. If it is wool, it is super fine lambs’ wool. Since it was for the Prince of Wales, I think that’s possible.
The mariner’s cuffs are pieced onto the end of the sleeves, reducing bulk (no double layer). The buttons at the cuffs are round, domed, self-covered buttons.
The double breasted closure is made with multi-colored silk braid frogs and silk dome-shaped buttons.
The collar is quilted, too.
The center back seam does not bother to match the pattern; it’s just sewn up the center.
Triangular piecing at the side seams helps give this flair in the skirts. You can see this in the photo at left.
The sleeves are set in, two-piece sleeves typical of menswear.
That’s everything I can remember from my visit on Saturday with Sew 18th Century. I really do have to go back with a notebook and a stool!
10th Mass fittings: Mr Cooke, Mr S and the Young Mr.
There is good, if slightly terrifying, news about how to get better at sewing. It took me two years to get to a decent place, but this sped up considerably in the past year because of the weeks when I sewed for 30 or 40 hours a week. This business is about practice, looking, and patience … and also asking for help. Some of the help you can get online, some of the help you can get from whatever human is handy, and some you need a master for.
The Rhode Island pair, pattern by me based on Mill Farm breeches.
Online tutorials have saved my bacon: I make gowns with Koshka’s tutorial handy because after intensive menswear, I forget how this gown business works. The random human help I get comes from Mr S, who patiently takes photos as I try to fit backs or see what’s wrong. Trust me: you cannot see your own back in a mirror, so take a photo, or get someone else to. The masters who have helped me are Sharon Burnston and Henry Cooke. From both of them I’ve learned how to look and how to think about historic costumes. Sharon’s workshop really helped my sewing, and watching Henry has taught me a lot about fit. Also from both: patience.
When it came to Mr S’s overalls, I needed a professional bail out. Mr Cooke offered to help after watching me basting the things at MMNHP, and here’s what I wrote in reply:
[the] overalls have reached a rather bad place, and are now only half-basted on the legs after a third fitting attempt. He appears to have lost more weight. The fit in the seat confounds me, and when I get one leg right, the other twists. Your help would be deeply appreciated…
In the end, my basting was ripped out and Mr Cooke sat on the floor and basted the overalls on to Mr S. The process took a bit more than an hour, during which time Mr S became very familiar with the curtain material in Mr Cooke’s workroom, and realized that it was identical to the curtains he’s had as a child. This memory transported him back to a childhood trip to Williamsburg, when he yearned to be one of the costumed interpreters at CW. It was a transformative afternoon for Mr S and his overalls.
Now that they’ve been worn, I know that I need to:
Adjust the waistband and seat
Add a leather strap under the foot
Finish the in-and out-seams (with fit proven, felling can begin)
Switch ankle buttons from plain and RI mix to all plain or 10MA
Take a pattern from the legs!
There is hardly any seam allowance over Mr S’s single-speed bike-riding-up-hills calves, so a pattern from the legs would make the next pair that much easier. He has two pairs, so why should I bother? Because he will undoubtedly wear these out doing as many belly crawls, stream fordings, nettle bush tangoes and other light infantry activities as he possibly can. At some point, mending will cease to be an option.
So how would I pass on the lessons I’ve learned? In some ways, by writing honestly about the struggles and successes in getting these things right, and to let you know that practice really does make a difference. It’s also become clear that maintaining an open, curious mind willing to accept criticism and new ideas will make you a better sewer, and maybe even a better living historian/reenactor…dare I say person?
The American School, by Matthew Pratt, 1765. MMA 97.29.3
Mr S. has a green linen suit in the making; that is, he has breeches which mostly fit, and a frock coat in need of serious alteration. Since I will need to alter this coat eventually (that is, take it apart, re-cut and re-assemble it) I have started looking for images of green suits.
Portrait of a Boy, probably of the Crossfield family. William Williams, 1770-75, MMA 65.34
The green linen the suit was made from is no longer available, so there will be no matching waistcoat. If I can get the thing tweaked to an approximation of ca. 1763, we should be set for the August event (if that happens) and for Battle Road next year, though I know he might want wool. The taunts of “bet you wish you had the rest of that coat” from this year linger in my mind, at least.
The jacket is, admittedly, too short. I begin to wonder if I need to cut it down even more, like a workman’s short coat; the Massachusetts line “Bounty Coats” are cut shorter, and similar to a coat at the Connecticut Historical Society (1981.110.0, search by number here, the links are not stable).
Mr S last June, in the unfinished 36-hour-frock coat
The problem with that plan, at least for 1763, is that the cuffs are clearly larger and coats longer, in 1763, than they are in 1775, at least for gentleman. I realize that this means I am better off starting over completely for the 1763 coat from a muslin up (which against all instinct and principles, I did not do for the 36-hour-frock coat). So I’m waffling here, as Mr S doesn’t always want to portray the day laborer/tenant farmer, but would like some pretensions to artisan and property owner. That means more fabric, and that means starting over completely is in order–breeches, waistcoat, frock coat and all. But wait, there’s more!
The events in the queue before the August 10th event for 1763 include Monmouth on June 15-16 (for which overalls and hunting frock are in production), Washington’s Arrival in Cambridge on July 14, which requires militia clothing, and Old Sturbridge Village the first weekend in August, for which a regimental coat is requested. Somewhere along the line, I’d like to make myself something…but it looks more and more like a summer of menswear. Perhaps cutting down that green coat and altering the breeches for July 14 is the most sensible plan…though where that will leave 1763, or the regimental coat, I do not know.
Kirsten Hammerstrom 
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